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Star Trek Hunter Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva

I have my own group of crows I'm trying to make friends with...

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...Can't wait to learn how those Romulan crows will help the people. Great concept you are working on here...

Thanks for the kind words! Shiva gave Sela a hint about the true value of the nikamsitiri... It was the very last thing she said.


+Thanks!! rbs
 
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Star Trek Hunter
Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva
Scene 12: Dr. Who?


25.12
Dr. Who?


Haanti Peda ran her fingers through luxuriant reddish gold fur and felt deliciously naughty. Bajorans, like humans and denobulans, were far more liberal about interspecies relationships than most humanoid species. But Peda wasn’t sure the creature lying next to her exactly qualified as humanoid… and he had been with her sister before her, which clearly pushed this encounter much further into taboo territory.

She took a breath, rubbed her face against the strong-smelling fur and gazed out the window, where she could see about half of the U.S.S. Hunter – the port half – which was docked to the outer ring of the Deep Space 9 space station. Unlike other Star Fleet ships, it was not a comforting or inspiring sight. Star Fleet was famous for ship designs that were uniquely beautiful and fast.

By all accounts, the U.S.S. Hunter was far, far faster than any other known design, but it was far from beautiful. Dark, squat, businesslike – if anything, the Hunter was intimidating, even if it was one of the smallest deep space vessels in production. Peda couldn’t look at it too long. She knew the Federation attack on Trillus Prime was well justified, but she couldn’t stop imagining a swarm of these predatory looking little black ships appearing in the skies over Bajor and raining down terror the way they had at Trillus Prime.


And now her beastly lover was assigned as a senior officer on that ship. But this wasn’t a love affair. More like a three- or four-night stand.


Peda could tell that Grorher was awake. “Do you think she would have minded?”

“You staying in her quarters?” rumbled Lt. Grorher. “Why would she? They’re still assigned to her until the commemoration and you need to be sure to remove all of her things and direct them to their proper destinations…”

Peda laughed and lightly twined some of Grorher’s chest fur. “Not me being in her room. What I’ve been doing in her room…”

“Making a mess? Eating food you dropped on the floor. Yeah – that might have bothered her a bit…”

“It was still in the plate!”

“It isn’t my taboo,” the furry pilot rumbled. “I know Irda never ate from a plate that dropped on the floor…”

“I’m sure she never dropped a plate on the floor in the first place,” Peda pouted.

“Not that I ever saw.” Grorher rolled over to face the sister of his deceased lover. “Peda, I knew your sister for almost a year. We were very close. I miss her and you have been a great comfort to me. Which I am certain that she would find comforting. I have visited the families of all of my wing, including your parents. Twelve grieving families. And now, because of the inquest, I’m stuck in bajoran space for another 20 days, at least. I think Irda would be happy that you’re here with me.” Grorher rolled out of bed and shuffled off toward the shower.

Peda found herself moping for the few minutes that it took the furry lieutenant to clean himself. When he reappeared, he was wearing the solid black Star Fleet Judge Advocate General uniform with yellow piping around the collar and cuffs. With his almost golden fur and long blonde hair, it created a striking effect. The word handsome simply did not apply to Grorher in any coherent way, but he did have very much the look of a hero.


Lt. Grorher was brushing his facial fur. “How about a tour of the U.S.S. Hunter?”

“Can you get me clearance?” Peda asked.

“Considering that I’m the senior officer on duty today… chances are good…”


A few hours after having escorted Peda through those parts of the U.S.S. Hunter that were cleared for civilian access, and having returned with her to the Promenade on DS9 for lunch, Lt. Grorher was back on the bridge of the Hunter. With the ship on Emergency Reserve status, only four stations were required to be staffed. Midshipman Carlos Datsun was on station in Transporter Room 1. Ensign Geoffrey Horatio Alstars was pacing around Engineering by himself.

And along with the Hunter’s new Director of Flight Operations, Lt. Grorher, in the captain’s chair, Ensign Eykirros Jones, who was part human and part kitarran, was standing watch at the tactical/communication station on the bridge. Jones looked more kitarran than human, with the telltale crenellations on her forehead that mimicked the crenellations of her enlarged neo-cortex. The only indication of her human ancestry was the light caramel color of her skin from her African American heritage. Like most kitarrans, Ensign Jones was very slight of build.


Grorher sniffed. Ensign Jones’ pheromones had suddenly changed - a smell of fear and a new scent. “What is it, Ike?” he rumbled as he turned the chair, only to see a new person on the bridge - a small, balding, dark-skinned young man wearing a leather jacket with an expedition helmet slung over his shoulder by a lanyard.

“Where is Captain Irons?” the intruder asked. He had a distinctly South American accent.

Lt. Grorher rose from the captain’s chair. He noticed that the intruder was armed and held his left hand up, made a gentle patting gesture toward Ensign Jones. “Easy, Ike.”

Eykirros Jones relaxed a little, but she kept her hand on the phaser on her belt.

“I’m sorry,” Grorher rumbled. “I don’t know you and I’ve never heard of Captain Irons. Captain Dolphin is taking shore leave on Bajor.”

Jones tensed slightly as the stranger reached to his neck and tugged gently on a chain, removing a small wallet from underneath his shirt. He opened the wallet.

“Rear Admiral Sarekson Carrera, Director of Star Fleet Temporal Command,” he said. “And you are, Lieutenant…”

“Lieutenant Grorher, Director of Flight Operations for this vessel. I am currently the ranking officer on duty.”

“You’re Doctor Carrera?” asked Jones.

Grorher turned and looked at her: “Doctor who?”

“I’m sorry sir, you’ve not been here long. Doctor Carrera invented this class of ship. He was the Engineering Director before Doctor Moon.” Jones turned her attention toward Carrera. “Sir, Justice Irons retired from Star Fleet and from the Tribunal - or something… I’m not really sure. I think the captain would like to know you’re here…”

At that moment the ship’s interactive avatar appeared on the bridge. “Sarekson!” The elderly looking, pudgy avatar stepped around the new (and furry) flight director and embraced Carrera.

“And…” Carrera was surprised by the hologram’s evident emotion. After a confused moment, he patted Hunter’s back, then hugged back. “And how have you held up, Hunter?”

Hunter stepped back. “We lost Pep and Tauk. There are a lot of new people around here,” said Hunter. “I’m reasonably sure Kenny will want to see you.”

“That’s what everybody says, but nobody seems to be calling him yet,” Carrera observed…


25.12 (of 19)​
 
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Star Trek Hunter
Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva
Scene 13: Transplanting Saketh


25.13
Transplanting Saketh


The negotiations for the transplantation of Saketh’s biosphere from within the Romulan Star Empire onto three planets currently within the United Federation of Planets had started on Vulcan. Admiral Ekot and former President Maria Rodriguez were leading a large, multidisciplinary team consisting mostly of scientists. Oddly, the lead scientists for both the Federation and the Romulan Star Empire were twins - Kallasa and Carauka were identical twins, half romulan and half vulcan. Lin Chun Hu and Lin Chun Xi, descendants of the legendary Lin Ling Liu, were also identical twins - half human and half vulcan.

For Ekot and Rodriguez, the negotiations boiled down to making certain that Kallasa and Carauka and the Lin brothers did not let their optimism get the better of them. Removing the biosphere from Saketh in such a way as to not kill the majority of it would be a nightmarishly difficult task. Painting that biosphere onto three different planets would be unbelievably complicated. The unprecedented challenge of this project was drawing scientists from all over the Romulan Star Empire, the Federation, the Cardassian Union… rumors of the plan had reached the Gamma quadrant and more than a hundred scientists from races no one had ever heard of before had traveled through the wormhole tens of thousands of light years from their homes to participate.

Ekot was not surprised to find Maria Rodriguez charming. She was a veteran politician and had charmed her way to the top of the Federation bureaucracy. He found himself admiring her breadth and depth of knowledge and her ability to quickly master complex information. She was asking the top experts in planetary ecology the right questions, carefully drawing them into deeper consideration, helping them focus on more promising avenues of research while keeping other doors open.


Today, Supreme Commander Sela’s battlegod, the I.R.W. Bestia, was in the Vulcan system as was the mammoth U.S.S. Ark. This meeting was being held in the main hold of Ark Saucer Section 1. It was an immense space - so large that a romulan warbird could be parked in it and a second warbird stacked on top. Enough conference tables to fill a ballroom and hundreds of chairs were completely lost in the midst of this vast space. The guests were shuttled in using a number of Star Fleet shuttles and several Romulan Star Navy landers. More than thirty such craft were parked around the conference tables. These small craft were entirely dwarfed by the space they were landed in the center of.


“We’re meeting in my space,” said President Emory Ivonovic. “But while the Federation will commit enormous resources to this effort, we know that the true risk will be borne by the Romulan Star Empire. Therefore it is only fitting this meeting be chaired and guided by those who have the most to lose. As a gesture of good faith and to ensure peace among our people, Supreme Commander Sela - this is your meeting…”

Sela took her place at the head of the table, next to President Ivonovic.

“I will be blunt. Saketh feeds one third of the Romulan Star Empire. What guarantee does the Federation offer - what backup plan is in place - in case this effort fails and in our efforts we only destroy Saketh without being able to replant it?”

“As enormous as this space we are gathered in is,” said President Ivonovic, “it is only large enough to hold a large mountain lake and its shoreline. This saucer section has additional cargo space designed to hold millions of tons of soil, water, and provide environments for wildlife as well as the capacity to compress and carry a significant amount of atmosphere. It is one of four saucer sections on the U.S.S. Ark. The engineering hull has room for a small ocean. This ship’s sister ship, the U.S.S. Atlas, should launch within the next few weeks. The Federation is sponsoring an additional two Atlas class planetary rescue ships, the U.S.S. Mohammad and the U.S.S. Delivery, both to launch within the year. Even with all four ships working at capacity, the rescue of Saketh will take decades…”

A vulcan with long, dark-red hair and a massive, dark-red beard rose, drawing everyone’s attention. President Ivonovic fell silent. Sela looked at the red-bearded vulcan for a moment, then said, “Speak.”

“I am Messick. I speak for Premiere Saoron. With the assistance of the Andorian Empire, the Vulcan High Command will construct a space station in orbit of Al Donovos III. This space station will be a gift to the Romulan Star Empire and will be designed to provide protected interior space for reconstruction of living environments from Saketh. Each living environment will be transplanted onto the surface of Al D. III with a protective dome. As long as the protective domes remain in place, each living environment will be safe. But they will be designed to be interconnected. The Vulcan High Command, in coordination with the Andorian and Romulan empires, will maintain these environments encapsulated for as long as is necessary until such time comes when the atmosphere of Al D. III can be merged safely with the living transplanted atmosphere of Saketh."

Emperor Sin IV, who was seated next to Messick, stood. Sela found herself saying, “Emperor?”

“Unfortunately, our friend and prisoner, Premiere Saoron, is no longer healthy enough for space travel. It is appropriate that the High Council’s preferred successor should speak for the High Command. The Andorian Empire will support the Al D. III project with resources and personnel as needed, Supreme Commander.”

A large, elderly bolian, seated across from the vulcan and andorian leaders, stood.

“My apologies,” said Sela, “I am not familiar with all of the dignitaries of the Federation…”

Federation President Emory Ivonovic leaned over and whispered in her ear. A few of Sela’s guards tensed at the sight of a human so close to their Supreme Commander. Decades of protecting her as she clawed her way to the top of the Romulan Navy and firmly seized control of the empire had ill prepared them for the casual intimacy or free-wheeling, chaotic conferencing that characterized Federation affairs.

“Again, my apologies, Web Executive Planning Commissioner Boles, please speak,” said Sela.

“Thank you, Supreme Commander,” came the deep voice of Xagg Boles. “The Bolian Web Service will sponsor a similar effort to put a number of large space stations in orbit of Al Donovos IV to transition environments from Saketh onto Al D. IV. We will assist the Romulan Star Empire with maintaining interconnected domed environments on the surface of Al D. IV until the atmosphere of Al D. IV can be safely merged with the native Saketh atmosphere.”

Ushi Irons stood up next to the bolian executive commissioner.

“You, I recognize,” said Sela.

“You may not recall,” said Ushi, “but we met once, nearly 40 years ago.”

“I recall, but I was undercover,” said Sela with some surprise.

“Your ears and eyebrows were different, but I would not easily forget that face…” Ushi smiled.

“You have my undivided attention, Ushi Irons,” said Sela.

“Speaking on behalf of United Earth Governments, I have been authorized to pledge, in addition to Star Fleet’s assignment of the entire fleet of Atlas class starships, support from Earth Gov. to construct and maintain space stations in orbit of Al Jenova IV. While each, if you will, terraforming operation will operate on the Saketh-to-Atlas class starship-to-space station-to-domed planetary environment model described by our esteemed fellow members, each will also employ unique techniques to ensure a thorough scientific process. It is a point of pride for the people of the United Earth Governments, representing the majority of humanity, to offer our full support for the greatest public works project in the history of humanity on behalf of a people we once thought of as our enemies. It is our fervent hope that this project will kindle a new spirit of peace, cooperation and friendship between humanity, and among all the peoples of the federation, with the romulan people.”

Emory Ivonovic chuckled. “My condolences on your loss of your seat on the Federation Council and congratulations on your recent appointment as Chief Counsel for United Earth Gov., Ushi. There is an old saying that when an Irons falls from grace, they tend to fall upward.”


25.13 (of 19)​
 
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Star Trek Hunter statistics (an earlier post got me to thinking about this):

Episodes: 28
Story Years: 3 (kind of gets fuzzy in the epilogue)
Crew & Major Character Deaths: 6
Courtroom Dramas: 6
Detective Stories: 10
Medical Dramas: 7
Spy Stories: 10
Wars / Rebellions: 6
Space Battles: 19
Melees / Battles: 36

I tend to think of this series as very philosophical and dialogue driven, but by the statistics, it's reasonably action-packed.

Thanks again for reading! rbs
 
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Star Trek Hunter
Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva
Scene 25.14: Medicine for the Soul


25.14
Medicine for the Soul


Rear Admiral Sarekson Carrera spent nearly three weeks aboard the Pagh Kez’bal* with Captain Kenneth Dolphin and his daughters and the half-vulcan Smith brothers. The name of the bajoran sailing vessel meant “Medicine for the Soul” and it was well named. Carrera seriously needed the vacation. And he was surprised at how important his friendship with Dolphin had become to him. Most of their conversations were about sailing and the water and the tremendous changes that had happened on the U.S.S. Hunter since Carrera had left following what the crew had dubbed the Carrera Paradox.

The serious discussion took place below decks in a bunk Carrera was sharing with Captain Dolphin, Dr. Jazz, Dr. Moon and T’Lon. It was the evening before their final day aboard the bajoran sailing vessel. The Inland Sea had experienced heavy weather and all hands had been needed to tend the sails and keep the ship battened down. The weather had finally calmed late in the evening and the Hunter’s crew were enjoying the good tired that came from a day of hard but interesting labor. For Dr. Carrera, the sensation of being surrounded by friends was almost overwhelming. He couldn’t recall ever having been this happy.


“I remember a streak of gray in your hair, about the temples.” Carrera fluffed the small remaining amount of his own hair. Over the past year he had gone almost completely bald. “I know how you feel about genetic modification - surely you’re not dying your hair?”

Dolphin laughed. “Actually, I have Sam to thank for this. Bajoran soaproot. Tastes horrible, but it does all sorts of wonderful things for the digestion and as a side benefit, it counteracts the metabolic changes that cause human hair to turn gray. Minerva apparently ate the stuff by the bushel, which explains why her hair didn’t turn gray until she was nearly 160. Speaking of hair, though…” Dolphin fluffed the thick, corn-blonde curls at the top of his head.

Carrera responded with a rueful grin. “A gift from my mother’s side of the family. Most of the men on her side were completely bald by age 30. It looks like I’m more than a little ahead of schedule. Sam, I don’t suppose soaproot would work for that?”

Dr. Jazz came up with an equally rueful grin. “No such luck. Only gray hair and that only in humans. Minerva is mostly human - part betazoid, part trill, and part vulcan, which accounts for her long life. If she had been part bajoran, the soaproot wouldn’t have helped with the gray hair.”

“So, as I understand it, you want to hitch a ride with us to Rising Sun?” Dolphin asked.

“I had Mlady and Dr. Tali Shae reassigned to Star Fleet Temporal under my command. They will arrive at Deep Space 9 tomorrow,” said Carrera. “I know you’re departing the next day for Rising Sun. I have a vessel coming in that I’d like us to rendezvous with just outside that system.”

“A vessel?” asked Dr. Moon.

“Well… technically… no,” said Carrera, earning a laugh from most in the room and a raised eyebrow from T’Lon.


“And there’s the Sarekson Carrera we all remember…” teased Dr. Moon.


Carrara laughed. “Well, she doesn’t like being referred to as a ship. I suppose for the same reason you wouldn’t like being referred to as a bicycle. Or at least so I’m told. Apparently, over the past 300 years, I visited her a number of times on her way here from another galaxy, but I haven’t done that yet.”

Dr. Moon closed her eyes and started pressing her fingers gently against her own temples. Dr. Jazz grimaced and groaned. Kenny Dolphin laced his fingers in his hair and stretched. “I knew we were going to get some of this ‘I went into the past, but I haven’t done it yet, so it’s something I must be doing later in the future’ sort of stuff…”

“You should hear his explanation of how he travels a million light years or goes a billion years into the past with just a thought,” said Moon. “Like turning your head and looking at another part of the room, but with math…”

“Focus is locus… When you realize our universe is actually one dimensional and consists exclusively of information…” Carrera started, only to elicit groans from nearly everyone in the room.

Dolphin twisted his fingers in his ears, shaking his head, his eyes squeezed shut. “No, no, no no no, the big talking monkey didn’t need to hear that…”

Carrera laughed merrily. Something about seeing Captain Dolphin clowning around struck him funny and he doubled over, laughing hard until he couldn’t breathe.

“It wasn’t THAT funny,” Moon said.

“Oh yes it was,” said Dolphin, puffing himself up with mock superiority.

“Just breathe, Sarekson, just breathe” said Jazz, helping Carrera to sit down on a hammock. The Director of Star Fleet Temporal Command was light headed, still helpless with laughter.

“This human has evidently been under a great amount of stress recently,” T’Lon observed, dryly.

“Oh no, don’t you start with that vulcan comedian routine,” said Carrera. He took a deep, shuddering breath. “But you’re right. I have been carrying the Alpha Quadrant around on my shoulders. I visited the borg in the Beta Quadrant several times. They’re not in good shape. Civil war… political factions… attacks by some of the species they had previously terrorized… Where there were once more than 900 billion borg who thought and acted as one, I estimate there are no more than 30 billion left, probably far less. And I have also spent time studying the hulk.”

Carrera got up. The seriousness in his voice caught everyone’s attention. “900 billion borg working as one over the next 2,000 years would easily be enough to repair the hulk and protect the Alpha Quadrant from the coming gamma wave front. But only 30 billion borg, riven by civil strife and under threat by species they previously preyed on… That’s nowhere near enough to repair the machine over a period of 4,000 years, which is less than the time we have. I’m going to bring them back anyway - all of them. Not just the Beta Quadrant borg – all the borg, everywhere in the galaxy. That might net us 50 or 60 billion if we’re lucky. We’ll think of something…” Carrera sat down and took a deep breath, deliberately calming himself. “We have to…”




*Pagh Kez’bal (Bajoran – Medicine for the Soul)


25.14 (of 19)​
 
“900 billion borg working as one over the next 2,000 years would easily be enough to repair the hulk and protect the Alpha Quadrant from the coming gamma wave front. But only 30 billion borg, riven by civil strife and under threat by species they previously preyed on… That’s nowhere near enough to repair the machine
..."
I've heard it quoted that, scientists have studied the impact of removing mosquitos from the environment. They concluded the it would have no significant impact. No one would suffer from the loss. But, the Alpha Quadrant needs nearly 900 billion Borg to survive.

:borg:<"Resistance is useless!"

Honestly, 2000 years in a space faring society is a lot of technical development. I'm confident a large scale solution could be reached before then. Just look how far we Earthlings have come since the first rockets went into space.

-Will
 
Honestly, 2000 years in a space faring society is a lot of technical development. I'm confident a large scale solution could be reached before then. Just look how far we Earthlings have come since the first rockets went into space.

Thank you!!! You've put your finger right on the focal point of the entire series. Because isn't that what we're doing right now? Praying that in the next 60 years some as yet unimagined technological silver bullet will salvage our environment while we line up behind various billionaires and fight each other to the death to enable them to continue ransacking the planet and bilking all of us for their own feckless entitled enrichment?

You've given me the perfect opportunity to do what no writer should ever do: explain what I'm up to in this series. Consider the gamorlan species - those cute little aliens who exterminated their entire species in a massive world war instead of uniting against an oncoming environmental disaster that they knew how to solve. And Julian has said many times about the romulans of Saketh - that they will procrastinate and bicker and miss their chance to save their world unless driven by forces more powerful than intellect. Much like Florida, which will be under the Gulf of Mexico by the end of this century - but no one has given any thought to moving Miami. Not to mention the orange groves, the Everglades. Maybe Disney - but that's more a result of all the aforementioned political infighting. And what damage will the swallowing of Dade County do to the ocean?

Human cultures have crashed again and again due to climate change - the Sumer culture, the great Bronze Age collapse, the Inca, countless others. And it's not like the Ur valley farmers didn't come up with one brilliant, inventive solution after another to try to desalinate their land and adapt to it.

At the end of this series, Julian sums it all up, so I won't do so here. He's bitter and angry and in that he is very much channeling my frustration. Not that I agree with his solution, but we're not going to get out of this without serious sacrifice. Of course one of the biggest questions of the entire series is whether Julian Bashir is the greatest of heroes or the most horrid of monsters.

I've heard it quoted that, scientists have studied the impact of removing mosquitos from the environment. They concluded the it would have no significant impact. No one would suffer from the loss. But, the Alpha Quadrant needs nearly 900 billion Borg to survive.

I've not heard those studies. Everything that I have heard has focused on the crashing population of songbirds in response to the crashing populations of insects that they feed on. We have similar issues in our oceans. As for the borg, that is a story of unintended consequences - Janeway's destruction of their queen might be devastating to the future of humanity. I will quote Kenny Dolphin (who is, paradoxically, quoting me):

“In the popular imagination, competition for scarce resources is the driving force of evolution - natural selection. But even the most cursory examination of successful species reveals the truth that the fundamental driving force of evolution is not so much competition as symbiosis. The battle for survival is won not by individual species, but by coalitions.”

Dr. Kenny Dolphin,
The Morality of Hybridizing Intelligent Species.

Thanks again!! rbs

Oh... one more clue... Q did what he did out of love...
 
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Thank you!!! You've put your finger right on the focal point of the entire series. Because isn't that what we're doing right now?
A quick look at the recent growth of technology.

V2 missile which was first launched by Germany in 1942. The V2 was the first rocket powerful enough to leave Earth's atmosphere.
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"The first modern electronic digital computer was called the Atanasoff–Berry computer, or ABC. It was built by physics Professor John Vincent Atanasoff and his graduate student, Clifford Berry, in 1942"
file-20190911-190021-1yop0zq.jpg


The first rocket which actually launched something into space was used to launch Sputnik, the first satellite, on October 4, 1957. The rocket that launched Sputnik was a R-7 ICBM rocket.
53bd97ede48226238fa82142c3a68ca9--vostok--space-race.jpg

Digital Equipment Corp. was founded, Fortran (Formula Translation language) developed, and Russell Kirsch on the Standards Eastern Automatic Computer (SEAC) in 1957 scanned the first digital image, his son.
timeline_graphics.games_1957.seac.jpg


Apollo 11 (July 16–24, 1969) was the American spaceflight that first landed humans on the Moon.
lem.jpg

Switched on in late October 1969, the ARPAnet is the first large-scale, general-purpose computer network to connect different kinds of computers together.

In 1971, the Soviet Union placed Salyut into orbit, the world’s first space station.
salyut_launch_8_from_soyuz_10_departure.jpg


April 12, 1981: Launch of the First Shuttle Mission.
space_shuttle_columbia_launching.jpeg


The International Space Station: The first ISS component was launched in 1998, and the first long-term residents arrived on 2 November 2000

2021
, SpaceX's first private flight with all-civilian crew launches into Earth's orbit.

We are now, 80 years after the first electronic computer was built (1 lifetime), seriously considering the ramifications of developing self-aware AI.

2000 years of technological development from this point, is going to be completely unrecognizable by anyone living today.

Human cultures have crashed again and again due to climate change - the Sumer culture, the great Bronze Age collapse, the Inca, countless others. And it's not like the Ur valley farmers didn't come up with one brilliant, inventive solution after another to try to desalinate their land and adapt to it.
If you don't already, listen to the podcast, The Fall of Civilizations

-Will
 
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2000 years of technological development from this point, is going to be completely unrecognizable by anyone living today.

Or there might not be anything but scraps buried under mountains of dirt and ash. I had a large number of plot-holes to work around to make the "onslaught of deadly gamma wave front" plot line work. Most notably, Coulomb's Law, which I skirted in 10.8. But I don't think the inevitable march of technology is a plot-hole for this story line. The problem isn't so much technology as culture. I will make that case throughout the remainder of the series, but the stories of Gamorlan and Saketh are part of that case.

The progenitors, creators of both the borg and the hulk, ultimately failed to protect the Beta Quadrant from this disaster. And the remnants of their technological solution are still available and a thousand years beyond the current technology of any of the Alpha Quadrant species. While the wavefront is 2,000 years away from Earth, it's much closer to Qo'noS and New Romulus on Vulcan, and the Romulan Star Empire is already collapsing because of it.

Thanks!! rbs

Big fan of the Fall of Civilizations Podcasts
 
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Star Trek Hunter
Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva
Scene 15: Ink and Romulan Ale


25.15
Ink and Romulan Ale


A later, more private meeting was held aboard the I.R.W. Bestia on a porch that overlooked a small lake surrounded by trees. A small section of wall with the door leading into this area was the only reminder that the meeting participants were on a ship and not at a lakeside resort. The table was lit by torches located behind the various participants. Stars could be seen above the tree tops – the ceiling of this environment was a viewscreen that displayed the starry environment outside of the ship. A part of the massive U.S.S. Ark was visible in one corner of this night sky. A few logs burning in a brazier nearby provided warmth and completed the rustic atmosphere.

“When we were constructing these ships, I never thought I would be hosting the Federation President onboard – other than as a prisoner of war,” Sela remarked.

“Not but three years ago, I was a fugitive from justice, hunted by Star Fleet and the Federation Tribunal, and depending on favors from a romulan spy for what little freedom I had,” Ivonovic replied.

“I was a prisoner once too.” Sela made an amused noise. “My father, teaching me a lesson about obedience, honor.”

“My father was the tough love type as well,” mused Ivonovic. “I worked my way out of the ink shop for his newspaper. I can’t tell you how many hours I spent scrubbing ink out of my nails, my hair. I had a lot of messes to clean up.”

“What you said about Irons falling up,” Sela said. “I have been trying to put down a virulent religion on Saketh and it is now spreading into the ranks of the Navy. Justice Minerva Irons fell from grace and is now styling herself as a god…”

“We have no contact with her,” Ivonovic replied. “I was told that she has use of a cloaked ship - a Keldon class cardassian battle cruiser. With the latest in romulan cloaking technology. Which suggests…”

Sela looked at Ivonovic. He didn’t need to say it. She determined to have a much closer look at the activities of the Tal Shiarr. “Irons has something else. She has visited me in my dreams. Whatever technology she is using is so powerful that she can kill by frightening a dreamer to death. Do you know anything about this device?”

“No. But I know someone I can ask,” Ivonovic replied.

Admiral Ekot and Maria Rodriguez were at the table, but both were silent - sipping romulan ale and listening carefully to the conversation between the leaders of the United Federation of Planets and the Romulan Star Empire. Supreme Commander Sela’s ale was untouched. President Emory Ivonovic was drinking ice water.


“I hate being so dependent on humans,” Sela admitted.

“There was a time when I would have said the same about being dependent on hybrids,” said Ivonovic.

Sela looked at him. “What changed?”

“My heart,” Ivonovic replied. “There was a young Star Fleet pilot, part vulcan but you wouldn’t know to look at him. He was a hostage. I tried to rescue him. I was too late. He had been tortured to death. When I was carrying his broken body out of that horrible place, I couldn’t stop thinking about my daughters… my grandchildren…” The federation president choked up a little. “I still get emotional thinking about it. This young man put his life on the line to protect my grandchildren. What right did I have to judge him because of his ancestry? There he was in my arms, dead – his blood was all over me. His body was so broken I had a hard time keeping his… keeping his guts from falling out…”


For a long moment there was silence.


Sela took a deep breath. She took a long drink of her ale, then handed the cup to Ivonovic without looking at him. Ivonovic took the cup, looked at it for a long moment, then drained it. He swallowed roughly and tried to suppress his coughing.

“Romulan ale a little harsh for you, Mr. President?” Sela asked with a smile.

“I just celebrated my 68th birthday...” Ivonovic took a deep, ragged breath. “This is the first time I’ve ever tasted alcohol… Burns…” He suppressed another cough and reached for his glass of water.

Sela put her hand over the glass. “That will only make it worse. Much worse. There are some things you just have to get used to.”

Ivonovic coughed, then smiled. “This religion – the Cult of Shiva – is one of those things. Whatever you do to try to destroy it,” Ivonovic paused to cough again. “Like chasing the ale with water…” He coughed again.

“…will only make it worse,” Sela concluded.

Ivonovic nodded. Then wiped his face and breathed hard. After a moment, he managed, “I was raised in an ancient apocalyptic religion. My parents, my grandparents, the settlers of the Colony of New Hope were all fervent believers. A religion born on another world. A religion that never imagined travel through the stars. It never made sense to me. My parents were horrified that I did not believe. For a while, I was disowned. Eventually they came around – my generation was shedding that antique religion just as they and their parents had previously shed all of its primitive iconography.”

“What are you telling me, Mr. President?”

“Emory,” Ivonovic replied.

Sela sighed. “I do not understand this human custom of informality, but if you must, we may set titles aside in private…”

“We do it to try to avoid becoming monsters…” Ivonovic took a breath, then: “I am telling you that you will have to allow the Cult of Shiva to burn itself out. Don’t feed it. Every act you take to repress the religion is fuel for the fire. Incorporate it and turn it to your needs. Let it become just another tool of state. Eventually the banality of that will sink in. Just another bureaucratic department in a vast, boring – if efficient bureaucracy…”


25.15 (of 19)​
 
“I am telling you that you will have to allow the Cult of Shiva to burn itself out. Don’t feed it. Every act you take to repress the religion is fuel for the fire. Incorporate it and turn it to your needs. Let it become just another tool of state. Eventually the banality of that will sink in. Just another bureaucratic department in a vast, boring – if efficient bureaucracy…”
If we are really capable of learning political lessons from history, that's a good lesson to learn .

Great interchange. The philosophy really comes out.

-Will
 
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