YES - Close to the Edge: Star Beagle Adventures episodes 12 - 19

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 18: And You And I Part III – The Preacher and the Teacher
Scene 5: In the Sight


All complete in the sight of seeds of life with you ...

18.5
In the Sight​

“We have to rescue her!”


2nd Lieutenant Susan Gard had been desperately trying to establish communication with the inert holy lander destroyer only a few yards away from her voluntarily inert interceptor. They had resolutely ignored her hails and were doing their best to pretend to be nothing more than a field of debris, the supposed scant remains of a fabricated warp core breach. Gard had finally resorted to knocking on their front door.


Literally.


The young Star Fleet fighter pilot had exited her craft with a spanner, the largest, heaviest tool she had in her light interceptor, and banged on the destroyer's sensor array until a holy lander, surprisingly needing no Extra Vehicular Activity suit beyond an atmosphere tank and a mask that covered the creature’s face, emerged from a nearby airlock and ushered her into the craft.

The holy lander grasped the handle on the back of Gard’s EVA suit with one hand, while using its other two hands to seal the airlock. And Gard took the opportunity to use the quick release on her EVA suit, kicked herself free and raced to the fighting ship’s bridge, leaving the oddly ant-like alien struggling with the airlock and an empty EVA suit. Gard had, like all the pilots and security personnel in the task force, carefully studied the analysis of the wrecked holy lander destroyer that Captain Howard’s expedition had investigated months earlier on the south side of Mount Torlochtor, which included a detailed layout of the ship as well as instructions on how to activate the doors.


The holy lander from whom she had escaped started singing almost immediately. Gard’s only clue that the creature was attempting to use low frequencies to override her conscious volition was a silent notice from her communicator. The default setting for the communicator immediately counteracted those frequencies with frequencies of its own. Gard almost instinctively removed the pin from her uniform and pinned it to the inside of her undergarment.

Which left the befuddled ship commander arguing with an indignant, passionate Star Fleet officer much smaller than him, but whom he could not control. This was quite unsettling to the creature, causing his three antennae to vibrate uncontrollably. He was having difficulty responding. Only two of his three eyes had eyelids – these were starting to blink uncontrollably.

“According to the rules of honor, as a wounded enemy left on the field of honorable combat, your pilot can only be rescued by your forces at risk of honor damage to ship and crew…”

“No they do not!!!” Gard interrupted. “Captain sh’Zhiathis was hit by an honor shot intended to represent your weapons at full power. According to YOUR rules of honor, she has been vaporized and is therefore not recoverable by honor combatants.”

“Even if that is so, we have removed our ships from the field of honor and cannot move from this position,” the ship commander retorted.

“You can move under a white flag. Your queen has already recognized and honored the white flag signal for one of our vessels as a non-combatant on a rescue mission.” Gard thrust a tricorder into the commander’s middle hand. “That is the signal. Broadcast it and move this ship in to save the life of Captain sh’Zhiathis, or by all that you consider holy I will have this farce of a battle nullified as of this moment for your failure to follow your own rules of honorable combat!”


“I am following…”


“NO YOU ARE NOT!!!” The young Star Fleet pilot emphasized her words with an outraged and very accusatory index finger. “Every second sh’Zhiathis is out there, she presents a requirement to render aid to our ships, who may then be attacked on a mission of mercy that is caused entirely by your refusal to mount a rescue! If one of our ships is damaged on the field of honor because of your negligence, I will make it my life’s mission to have you identified as the violator of your own rules of honor! I don’t know what your queen will do to you, but I can guarantee that you do not want to make an implacable enemy of the Federation and draw us in to actual combat without the protection of your... rules of honor.” Gard spat these last words out with evident contempt.

“Even if we get to her ship, we don’t know how to…” the alien commander started, only to be interrupted by a creature he was now thoroughly frightened by. The combination of her evident rage, clear fighting ability and, more importantly, the fact that the efforts of now five singers to control her were failing to have any impact on her behavior, was causing the superstitious creature to wonder just what variety of minuscule, enraged, brown-eyed god might have gotten onto his bridge.

“Get me close and I will rescue her!” 2nd Lt. Gard’s chocolate brown eyes smoldered. “NOW!!”

18.5​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 18: And You And I Part III – The Preacher and the Teacher
Scene 6: All Expression Laid


Coming quickly to terms of all expression laid ...

18.6
All Expression Laid​

One of the holy lander destroyers hit the U.S.S. Beagle directly amidships and a great gaping hole appeared in the antique vulcan ship…


The U.S.S. Mako was embroiled in its own complicated dance. For a large ship, much larger than the holy lander destroyers, the Intrepid class ship was remarkably nimble, able to dart about and evade the holy lander destroyers while maintaining much higher rates of fire.

The value of the phaser strips had immediately become evident, allowing the Mako, even in the midst of wild maneuvers, to keep a steady bead on each target until both the Mako’s sensors and the holy lander sensors registered a kill. It had taken only two kills for the holy lander crews and the Star Fleet crews to verify and synchronize their readings. The difference between those readings had started as a 0.4 second difference. Without any negotiations, both crews compromised, the holy landers reducing the time to register a kill by 0.2 seconds.

Commodore Yui Song was not holding photon torpedoes in reserve. Like the phasers, the yield of the torpedoes had been reduced to 1.34% of their normal yield.


The Mako’s bridge crew – along with the rest of the crew – was as absorbed by their own fight as they would have been if all the ships had been firing weapons at full power. None of the control panels or EPS conduits were actually exploding, but some went dark and the crew in proximity announced their injury. Medical staff raced throughout the ship, intent on providing first aid and lifesaving procedures to people who were not actually injured.

This included the Command Information Center, from which two crew members had already been removed by medical staff and four stations had gone dark. That did not distract Commodore Yui Song from noticing what happened to the U.S.S. Beagle. She caught her breath and gasped in alarm as an enormous, gaping hole appeared in the middle of the ship. Next to her, the Beagle’s captain, Ronald Howard, XIV, giggled merrily.

The weakened particle beam passed harmlessly through the hole in the Beagle while the ancient vulcan ship unleashed a withering volley of entirely harmless light. And torpedoes whose explosions would barely affect their adversaries’ navigational screens, much less battle shields.

And the holy lander destroyers could not hit the antique vulcan cruiser. Every shot would pass harmlessly through some impossible, gaping hole. While the Mako was far more maneuverable than the holy lander destroyers, it was nothing compared to the unbelievably nimble Beagle.

Because the holy lander destroyer guns were fixed, the Mako was able to minimize contact with any of the beams from these particle weapons. Which was critical because both ships were being swarmed.

A few of the holy lander destroyers re-tasked from attacking the Mako to instead target the Beagle. In one brilliant moment, holy lander destroyers on opposite sides of the Beagle hit each other as their beams passed harmlessly through impossible holes in the Beagle.


In the Mako’s CIC, Captain Skip Howard whispered to his commanding officer, “Sakura is cheating. And it’s brilliant!”

“I had no idea the Beagle could do that!” Yui responded.

“It can’t,” Howard observed. “That’s not the Beagle.”

Dawning astonishment and understanding widened Yui Song’s eyes. “That’s a hologram???”

“Yes. And Sakura is doing what we would normally do in battle, but the holo-transporter does not have sufficient power for active phasers and photon torpedoes.” Skip Howard chuckled again.

“Then how is she shooting those destroyers? Their kill rate is better than ours!”

Howard tapped the small workstation in front of him with a highly polished, black fingernail. “The DTG in holotransporter mode does not have sufficient power for weapons at full power. But Sakura doesn’t need to give them full power. She can simulate weapons at 1.34% yield. And that’s cheating.”

“That is extremely dangerous!" Yui Song wasn’t shouting. She was whispering intently, almost hissing. "The holy landers could take that as desecration of their field of honor!”

“They won’t,” Howard rejoined. “We would destroy the Beagle before allowing…”


“I am hit.” Lieutenant Commander Senek calmly announced.


Commodore Yui Song had been looking at Captain Howard. She saw a momentary look of horror and heartsickness on the face of her subordinate. Howard covered it quickly, but she had not seen that expression when other crew members had been identified by the Mako’s computer as battle victims. For a brief moment, all the life went out of the young captain’s eyes. Then the momentary flash of hopelessness was followed by a flash of rage before Howard regained control of himself. The emotions played across his face at tremendous speed, less than a second, almost so fast that Commodore Yui wasn’t at first certain of what she had seen. But Howard had also briefly overcorrected, his expressive features becoming almost a vulcan mask of calm before returning to normal, cementing the moment in Yui’s mind.

She filed it away for later. Even with the Beagle’s miracles, the Mako was rapidly coming to the end of its ability to withstand the imaginary damage it was taking.


The U.S.S. Arizona, despite its upgrades, had originally been constructed as a small freighter by the technologically backward oeast in the Oulheadry and was too sluggish to avoid the first shot - it had been the first ship to go down in the battle. The U.S.S. Bluebird and the U.S.S. Puppy together had managed to take out one holy lander destroyer, only to both fall prey to a second.

Captain Rhonda Carter had managed to take out nine of the holy landers before the tough, nimble, but relatively weak tactical launch was pasted by the main cannon of another holy lander destroyer. Despite its enhanced shielding, this small part of the U.S.S. Escort, the only part of her ship that could now fly, could not withstand a single hit. Her tactical launch now drifted, inert, along with well over half of the holy lander fleet.


And the simulation of the U.S.S. Beagle suddenly vanished. The actual ship emerged from the field of artificial asteroids that had been constructed from the planet’s orbital debris, two holy lander destroyers in hot pursuit. Both destroyers were quickly incapacitated by utterly harmless beams of light and harmlessly exploding photon torpedoes coming from Fortress Escort.

“They figured it out,” Howard observed, then, quietly: “Damn.” The Beagle had attempted to flee the system, but the holy lander destroyers were too quick and virtually disabled the vulcan-built warp drive. There were now only six destroyers left active on the field of honor, but the Mako, already registering crippling damage, had no chance against them.


They were now just fighting to the bitter end. Theoretically.


“How close is Captain Phlox?” Captain Howard asked.

“Not close enough,” Yui responded.


On the bridge of the U.S.S. Mako, Commander Jason Bates gave the order that had long been planned for this moment in the battle:


"Take us in to Fortress Escort."

18.6​

 

[BountyTrek]

The most intense game of laser tag ever played. Love it.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 18: And You And I Part III – The Preacher and the Teacher
Scene 7: A Moment Regained


A moment regained and regarded both the same ...

18.7
A Moment Regained​

“How soon?”

“Not soon enough.”


Captain Phillip Phlox was in the engine room. At the moment this was the most important part of the gargantuan and recently refurbished Galaxy class U.S.S. Citadel. More important than the bridge at this point. Which was why both the ship’s newly assigned captain and its long-serving first officer were in engineering.

Along with a nervous looking and sounding chief engineer and an even more dicy looking and sounding engine. Both engine and its yridian engineer were showing dangerous signs of redlining. Dangerously.

Of course, to humans, yridians looked nervous and kind of seedy under the best of circumstances. Commander Leklek Lek had graduated with high honors from Star Fleet Academy and overcome tremendous suspicion and prejudice. He was one of only 6 yridians serving in Star Fleet and had earned the respect of his entire department. At this moment, even in his spotless engineering uniform, he looked pitiful.

Captain Phlox, as a hybrid human and denobulan, had encountered a surprising amount of prejudice himself, from species who were generally thought of as tolerant toward hybrids. He knew that he had to be looking at one of the most dedicated engineers in the fleet. Leklek Lek had to be at least 10% better than anyone else just to be standing here wearing three solid pips on his collar.


“Commander Lek, what would happen if you open that engine all the way? Can we make warp 9.999?”

The yiridian engineer managed to look even more miserable “For about 2 hours, maybe, under the best of conditions. Then it would overheat and explode. In its current state, no more than 20 minutes, if that. I can’t even guarantee we can keep it moving at its current velocity and still get there with enough of an engine to provide shields, much less weapons.”

“Damn it!” Phlox cursed quietly. “If we were there right now, we could clean their chronometers. I thought this upgraded Galaxy class carried the most powerful warp engine ever seen in the Alpha Quadrant.”

“Three of them,” observed Commander Alicia Wyr, a tall, slender young woman of Scandinavian descent with a short shock of snow-white hair, snow-white eyebrows, pink eyes and extremely pale skin.


Phlox whirled on his albino first officer. “Three of them?”


“All star fleet ships carry two back up warp engines. One fully assembled and enough pieces to construct another…”

Phlox started rapidly snapping the fingers of both hands. He turned on the miserable looking yiridian, stepping toward him and towering over him. “How long would it take you to prepare the 2nd engine to replace this one?”

“It’s set up ready to replace now,” Commander Lek replied. “We would have to jettison the primary engine first, then jettison the backup engine from its current mount, and draw it back up through the primary hatch into the active mount.”

“How long from stop to go for the entire procedure?” Phlox asked. He shoved his hands into his pants pockets to avoid snapping his fingers.

Lek looked like he wanted to be anywhere else. The nervous, jerky movements, native to his species, made him look, to human eyes, extremely shifty. For yiridians, this movement simply indicated excitement or agitation. “Um… 10 minutes to eject, draw back up and install and another 10 for diagnostics…”

“Do we have to run full diagnostics? Can you save me any time on that?” Phlox asked.

The terrified chief engineer was wringing his hands. “If we don’t want to explode… I suppose the primary diagnostics could be done in 2 minutes and we could do the rest in transit…”


“As of this moment, Commander Lek, you are flying this ship.” Phlox took a half step back and landed a large hand on the chief engineer’s shoulders, then gestured to the complaining, overheating engine. “Run this engine into the ground and be a little conservative about when to jettison it. We’re going to have to get some distance from it before it blows…”

“There is a small, emergency nacelle attached to the engine,” Lek interjected. “The moment it is ejected, the nacelle will activate and take the engine away from us at warp.”

“Why didn’t I know any of this stuff?” Phlox asked. “I’ve been aboard more than 40 days and it’s like I just stepped on board.”

“You have been getting to know the crew, sir,” Commander Wyr observed.

“Evidently, I should have spent more time getting to know the technology. I’m 100 years out of date. In my day ships were helpless if they jettisoned their warp core.” Phlox took another step back, aware that his considerable height was making the already nervous yiridian chief engineer even more nervous. He fought the instinct to ball his fists. “Mr. Lek. Run this engine until it’s ready to blow. Don’t ask permission. Don’t wait for any orders. The moment you think that engine is about to go, jettison it and send it on its way.”

“And once the 2nd engine is installed?” Lek asked.

Phlox’s voice and expression were both hard. “Redline it. Give me everything it has and start building the third engine. We may be a little late to the party, but we’re going to get there. And when we do, we’re going to clean their chronometers.”

Phlox’s resolve was infectious. Commander Leklek Lek seemed calmer and more resolved than was usual for a yiridian. His voice carried the sound of a man re-energized: “Aye Captain!” He turned and started barking orders at his engineers.


Captain Phlox turned to see his albino first officer on her knees, her hands raised above her head.

“Commander?”

Commander Alicia Wyr performed a full genuflection, then came back up to her knees, hands raised, head slowly shaking, her voice rich and low: “I am not worthy…”

Phlox burst into laughter, laughing so hard that tears came out of his eyes. He stepped forward and reached down a hand to his first officer. “On your feet, Commander Wyr,” he said, still laughing. “We’ve got work to do.”

She took his hand with both of hers and let him pull her to her feet.


“Aye, Captain!”


“Take me to this 2nd engine,” Phlox replied. He gestured toward the corridor outside. “After you.”

The half-denobulan captain, still chuckling quietly, followed his albino first officer out of engineering.

18.7​

 

[Will The Serious]

I hope captain Phlox knows about the 1.34% yield rule. Otherwise, "Oops, sorry, I didn't realize. I thought it was odd that none of the damage registered on sensors."

-Will

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 18: And You And I Part III – The Preacher and the Teacher
Scene 8: Emotion Revealed


Emotion revealed as the ocean maid ...

18.8
Emotion Revealed​

Governor T’Eln’s return to Rattleroot Island on Al Salamais A 4 was a rather frightening and unexpected affair.


Most of the colonists, consisting of a small unit of United States Marines, a large number of tellarite biologists and a smattering of other scientists, including both the denobulan and human planetologists, Cetris Rye and Phillip Gorman, the trill oceanographer, Akri Dexx, two human archaeologists, Fish Head and Arizona Kind, the vulcan astrophysicist, Falok, and the very human theoretical engineer, Gan Baatar, were gathered under the large rock pavilion, watching a number of viewscreens depicting different views of the mock battle in orbit of ASA 4.

Even though none of the ships, aside from Captain sh’Zhiathis’ wrecked interceptor, were actually damaged, the colonists were watching this battle intently, well aware that their futures and the future of the Beagle Task Force, were hanging in the balance, awaiting the outcome of this simulated combat.

“They don’t want to make an enemy of the Federation,” Lance Corporal Petra Spitze was quietly explaining to the denobulan planetologist, who was sitting next to her. “And the last thing the Federation needs is to make an implacable enemy of a powerful, intergalactic species that could probably swarm us with untold numbers…”


The tiny, pink-skinned tellarite, Norkaond Vef, was the first to notice that the colonists had been joined by a gigantic, rubbery-looking squid-like animal, its 12 tentacles folded back along its body, resting on four of them, complete with four giant red eyes evenly spaced around a mouth that looked like an enormous sphincter made out of beaks.


Vef cleared her throat nervously, then said, “He’s back…”


The colonists turned to see that the huge creature, easily twice the size of a bull elephant, had silently joined them and was only a few feet ouside of the pavilion. Was taller than the pavilion, despite its horizontal orientation. The colonists quickly rose from their seats

“Weapons down,” Spike ordered, quietly. “Nobody, and I mean nobody is to point anything that even looks like a weapon at him.” Her own phaser carbine remained clipped to her jacket, her right hand resting on the top of the weapon, its business end pointed at the pavilion’s stone floor.

It was the tall, sultry, gorgeous trill oceanographer, Akri Dexx, who stepped forward to challenge the huge creature:


“What do you want? And where is Governor T’Eln?”


In response, the cthulhuoid opened its gigantic, sphincter-like mouth and started to retch.

Dexx stepped back reflexively.

The ancient vulcan was ejected from the creature’s gullet. While she came out at some speed, the creature caught her with several of its tentacles, and, with surpising dexterity and gentleness, deposited the slimy, ancient vulcan on her feet in front of the astonished, frightened, and now thoroughly disgusted colonists.

“I am unharmed,” the former premiere of the Vulcan Science Academy announced. “And we have a new colonist and a new friend.” She gestured to the enormous creature behind her. “SkipRock has been exiled to this island and also charged with studying and protecting us. He is unable to speak and can only, at this time, effectively communicate with those of us who have some telepathic ability. He can hear and in time, we will teach him our languages and develop a gestural language for him so that he can communicate with all of us. Ah, thank you, Falok,” she added as the young vulcan provided her a wet rag.

Governor T’Eln paused to carefully wipe slime off of her ancient, lined face and hands.

“It appears I will require a change of clothing,” she observed, dryly. She looked up again at the colonists. “There are 22 females among our colony of, now, 41 conscious beings. Skip has made me aware that all of us have been unusually sexually active. While this is a normal reaction of colonists when establishing a new settlement, it appears that Skip, at the behest of his community, has been using his considerable telepathic and telekinetic powers to alter our hormonal responses toward far greater than normal sexual adventurousness. Including me.”

The emotionless vulcan took a moment to notice the surprise registering on the faces of all but one of her fellow colonists. Many turned to look at Falok, but he was registering sufficient mild surprise to make it clear this was news to him as well. Governor T'Eln took a deep breath. "It seemed entirely logical to me at the time, but, in retrospect, I find myself as astonished by that detail as you are."

“While I have long passed beyond my fertile years, I am informed that the remainder of our female colonists are all now pregnant. Many of you have had several different partners during our brief residence on this island. Skip has enhanced your fertility and invalidated any prophylactic you might have relied upon. Skip has chosen which mate is the father of your child, with a preference toward interspecies fertilization. If you have had sexual relations with a member of a species other than your own, that is most likely the father of your unborn child.” The ancient vulcan looked about again at her astonished audience. “This is the requirement of Skip’s fellow cthulhuoids for our continued survival. We will remain on this island. We will give birth to a generation of hybrids. Each of whom, I am now given to understand, will have sufficient telepathy to communicate with Skip, our new protector and benefactor.”


Lance Corporal Petra Spitze was the first to speak up. “Governor, why did you name him Skip?”


“SkipRock,” T’Eln elaborated. “One of the godchildren of Captain Rhonda Carter, who goes by the name Rock, used her powerful telepathy to graft part of Captain Skip Howard’s personality into our new friend. Part of his consciousness, and part of her own. Emotion, volition, and indeed consciousness as we understand it, are all very new experiences for our new friend. And those are the reasons his pod has exiled him.”

18.8​

 

[Will The Serious]

Pretty freaky.

-Will

 

[Bynar0110]

Feels like we're getting near the end

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Feels like we're getting near the end

But near the end of what?

 

[Will The Serious]

But near the end of what?

One... never... knOooOoows <

-Will

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 18: And You And I Part III – The Preacher and the Teacher
Scene 9: A Clearer Future


A clearer future, morning, evening, nights with you ...

18.9
A Clearer Future​

“The task force's probes have managed to break through the alien jamming of all transmissions from the Al Salemais star system. They're transmitting their monitoring of the battle, such as it is. This is really, really strange…”


Telemetry of the strange battle in orbit of ASA 4 was playing, from various angles, on the viewscreen of the bridge of the U.S.S. Citadel. Both Captain Phillip Phlox and his albino first officer, Commander Alicia Wyr, were watching the first stage of the battle in stunned silence.

Phlox stood up and walked forward to the viewscreen. He pointed at the guns that were registering 1.34% of their actual firing power – at least the Star Fleet ships. “Why are these people shining flashlights at each other?”

“It looks like a battle simulation,” opined a very confused Commander Wyr.

“I know we missed something when these… What are these people called?” Phlox asked.

It was the communications officer, Lieutenant Boba Sharma, who answered. “According to the transmission we received just before they started jamming outgoing signals, they call themselves “Paladin.” I don’t know whether that’s a title, a species, a religion... I couldn’t get the context.”

“Play back that last message,” Phlox ordered.

For the next few minutes, the bridge crew of the U.S.S. Citadel were treated to the same message that the Beagle Task Force had reviewed a few hours before the battle.

“...If you fight with honor, you need not die. We will demonstrate our power on arrival. Follow our example, and we will meet you on the field of honor…” the holy lander queen was saying.

“Hold,” Phlox ordered. He turned toward his first officer.

“It’s not a battle simulation,” he said.

“It’s ritual combat,” Commander Wyr responded. “And our side is losing. They’re doing well. Far better than they should be. But they’re losing.”

“E.T.A.” Phlox asked.

“11 minutes,” Ensign Remi Howe responded from the navigation station.

Phlox touched his communicator pin. “Commander Lek, can you give me any more?”

The voice of the ship’s yiridian chief engineer came back over the bridge comm system: “If I were holding anything back, I would tell you.”



Aboard the U.S.S. Mako, things weren’t going so well. More than half of the phaser cannon that had been placed on individual asteroids had been destroyed. Nearly all of the hidden photon torpedoes were gone. But these weren’t the only tricks embedded within Fortress Escort. As the Mako wound its way among the artificial asteroids, the moving, remotely controlled chunks of rock and metal interposed themselves, clanging off the hulls of the holy lander destroyers. Holy lander destroyers that managed to get a firing solution were impeded by local shields created by shield generators hidden among the asteroids that made up the bulk of Fortress Escort. Then there was the central control station of the fortress, lurking somewhere within the field. As Mako approached this unit, it powered up its own shields and was still fully armed, and protected by several layers of ablative armor...




“Now arriving in the Al Salemais system,” announced Ensign Remi Howe.

Captain Phillip Phlox was pacing just behind the navigator’s station. “Broadcast to all…” he started, only to be interrupted by Lt. Sharma.

“Sir, we are receiving a broad-spectrum broadcast to all ships.”

Phlox resumed the center seat on the Galaxy-class cruiser’s bridge. “On screen.”


The screen was dominated by the image of the holy lander queen standing very still, staring, apparently transfixed, by a cone-shaped rock, about the size of an average ice-cream cone, floating a few inches away from her face.



“All ships, all crews, please cease all operations now and engage in station-keeping,” came a voice with a pronounced West Texas accent. “I am speaking now to the self-described paladin. What you are looking at is a small part of my brother, Steve. Steve has given his life, but it is up to you to decide what my brother sacrificed his life for: Peace. Or victory. My brother’s strong preference would be for peace. Other segments of my deceased brother are similarly positioned on the bridge of every ship among the paladin. While my brother is dead, these pieces of him are very much alive. You, the paladin, know what these are. You know what they can do. You are faced with this choice: Immediate and unconditional surrender to Star Fleet, or utter destruction not only of yourselves, but of all of the paladin within the Milky Way galaxy by the very nightmare you have been seeking to avoid. I await your decision with substantial impatience. I have lost my brother. I am determined that his death will not be in vain.”



On the bridge of the U.S.S. Citadel, Captain Phlox, very, very quietly ordered, “Station keeping. Let’s see how this plays out.”

On the viewscreen, the holy lander queen could be seen opening, then closing her mouth, as if considering and reconsidering what to say before saying it. Then, after nearly a full minute, she closed her eyes and straightened herself. “The conditions of honor have been met. Star Fleet has won fairly on the field of honor. On behalf of the paladin, I surrender.”

The cone of rock retreated from the queen at a slow, steady pace. Then the image of the holy lander bridge was replaced by the oddly misshapen face and head of John Jr.

“That is satisfactory. As of this moment, the paladin are our guests within the Al Salemais system. Allow me to introduce myself. I am John Junior, the godchild of Captain Rhonda Carter and the son of Ensign John Sevork, both Federation citizens. I and my surviving siblings now claim Federation citizenship as our birthright. We were born aboard the U.S.S. Escort, deep in interstellar space within the galaxy known to Star Fleet as the Jar Galaxy and to the paladin as the Great Wheel. On behalf of my fellow godchildren, I now claim the Al Salemais system as our home. And by the might provided to us by my brother’s sacrifice, I now declare the entire Al Salemais star system, all 3 stars, 13 planets, and, most importantly, every living thing native to this system, to be under my protection.”

“The Federation colony of Al Salemais A 4, having been established before my arrival, is included within my countenance. But no other colonies are to be established within this system. Star Fleet has a right to resupply and assist in the protection of their colony. The paladin are welcome to visit, but only as our guests. You shall not interfere with the normal development of the indigenous life and the indigenous peoples arising from and living within this star system.”

18.9​

---

NOTE: This is the final scene for Episode 18.

The adventure will continue in Episode 19: And You And I Part IV - Apocalypse, to be posted in this thread.

 

[BountyTrek]

Starships carrying backup warp cores with them is...just about the most sensible thing I've ever heard. Now all we need is for someone to design a warp core ejection process that doesn't immediately fail during exactly the sort of crisis you might actually need to use it in.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 19: And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse

Throughout this episode, snippets of lyrics are quoted. These are from the fourth movement of the song, “And You And I part IV - Apocalypse“ by Bill Bruford, Chris Squire, Steve Howe, and Jon Anderson. The song first appeared as track 2 on Close to the Edge, the fifth album by the progressive rock band, YES, 1972, Atlantic Records.

Both the song and the album have been cited as the most astounding sound experience ever recorded. I highly recommend listening to it. On LSD*, if available.

(*LSD may cause unexpected side effects, including visual hallucinations, synesthesia, poor judgement, temporary loss of inhibition, and an unexpected ability to comprehend Yes lyrics. Do not take LSD in combination with prescribed anti-psychotics, if you are pregnant, have liver issues or have been diagnosed with severe psychological disorders. If you can't handle reality, you have no business doing drugs.)

---

(continued from Episode 18)

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 19: And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse
Scene 1: The Shapes of the Morning


And you and I climb crossing the shapes of the morning …

19.1
The Shapes of the Morning​

“So you’re abandoning me, after all these years.”


Commodore Yui Song had wanted to sleep. But there was no time for sleep. Instead, she had her 2nd officer, Lieutenant Commander Senek, draw up a schedule of meetings. The first was with her first officer, Commander Jason Bates.

Bates was a big man with coal black skin. After his hair had turned snow white, he had taken to shaving his entire head. At 68, he didn’t have many wrinkles. But his snow-white eyebrows gave his age away. He had a deep voice and a comforting presence.

“My son, David, is on the Citadel. Along with his wife and four of my grandbabies.” Bates sighed heavily. “I’ve been doing this too long, Song. It’s time for me to go home and be grandpa. I’ve got 21 grandchildren and my kids aren’t done repopulating the human race just yet.”

Yui Song had set out a cup of tea for herself and freshly brewed coffee for her first officer. She took a long drink of her tea and watched as her long-time executive officer savored the smell of the coffee.

“You know no one is ever going to make you a better cuppa Jo, Jason.”

Bates took a moment away from his drink for a brief chuckle.

“I have a very full schedule tonight and into the morning, but this is by far the easiest meeting for me. You long ago earned your retirement. Everyone will miss you. But you said you had a demand?”

Bates nodded. “You know who needs to take my place.” His voice took on just a little bit of a hectoring tone. “Tell him to grow up, put on his big boy pants, nut up and step up.”

Commodore Yui smiled again. “You never hesitate with the rough language. I’m surprised to find that I’m really going to miss that. He’s my next meeting. And I think he’s finally ready…”




That meeting had started just after midnight. Her next meeting was at 100 hours, giving her about 20 minutes to catch a brief but restorative nap in her chair.

“Jason said it’s time for you to put on your big boy pants, grow up, nut up, and step up. And I need you to do just that. Commander.” The commodore opened a small, wooden box and pushed it across her desk.

Lieutenant Commander Gregg Clark looked at the box for a long time. Then, very slowly, reached up, removed the hollow pip from his collar, then upended the box, dropping a solid pip into his hand and very slowly pinned it to his collar.

“I know you have refused that promotion twice,” Yui observed. “This was going to be your last chance.”

“I’m ready for it, but I have a requirement,” Commander Clark responded.

“I think I know what that is…”

“You broke it, sir. You need to make it right. You need to let him go home.”

“I know,” Commodore Yui replied. “I’m meeting with him later this morning. I was looking at Skip when he announced that he had been identified as a casualty. I had my suspicions. But it was so evident. Probably not to anyone else, but I’ve been around a very long time. I’m kind of envious, in a way. I’ve been married three times and had a few rather torrid affairs…” She waived a dismissive hand at her new first officer. “Long ago. Don’t look so scandalized.” Yui Song sighed heavily. “But I’ve never known passion like that.”

“Me neither,” Gregg Clark agreed. “But you know the price. Why it is that way.”

“Yeah,” Yui responded. “There’s a really big, deep tragedy there. It’s written all over both of them. Especially Senek. He’s not clinically depressed. He’s just deeply, deeply saddened by something. Something he can’t fix. I don’t know what it is and I don’t want to know. But it has something to do with Skip. Skip puts on a brave face, but whatever this thing is, Senek is the only reason he can bear it.”




After meeting with Captain Rhonda Carter, then Captain Skip Howard, then General Krank, then Pel, then Shadow, and then Captain Phillip Phlox, Commodore Yui Song was thoroughly exhausted. A decade ago, when she had been in her mid-70’s, an all-nighter didn’t take so much out of her. But an octogenarian really needed her sleep.


Alas, the shape of her morning was such that the two most important meetings were still ahead of her. The first of these was with Lieutenant Commander Senek. Instead of sitting at her desk, she had brought him to the small table and chairs in the back of her office and served him tea. Song found herself again astounded by the vulcan’s beauty. But she had hardly taken thought about how young he was, only in his mid-30’s. Just past the age of maturity for his long-lived people.

“I have been unfair to you, Lieutenant Commander. I thought bringing you here might be good for you. I’ve only just realized that I really need to allow you to go back home.”

“It has been good for me,” Senek opined. “I needed the time away. I hadn’t realized it until you reassigned me. And you are one of very few commanding officers I have been comfortable serving with. Both you and Commander Bates.”

“If there is anything I can do for you… If you need someone to talk to, confidentially…” Song started. “Well… I owe you nothing less.”

“I have always been a disappointment to my family,” Senek confided. “My emotional self-control, following the death of my betrothed… I never really recovered, emotionally. But I am needed. And being needed is a very addictive feeling.” The beautiful young vulcan took a deep breath. “I needed the time away to think about what I need. What I want. And I do want to go back. But thank you for bringing me here. If you had an instinct that I needed some time away, that instinct was not in error.”

Yui Song found herself standing up and taking the vulcan’s hands in hers, bringing him to his feet, then embracing him. Senek was evidently surprised by the embrace. Vulcans typically needed more personal space than humans and did not generally like being touched.

“We are your family, Lieutenant Commander,” Yui said. “And we are very, very far from disappointed in you.” She was gratified to feel the hesitation melt away as the young vulcan returned her embrace.


The final meeting of Commodore Yui’s morning was not in her office. It required her to leave the U.S.S. Mako and she traveled riding 2nd seat in the surviving short range interceptor with 2nd Lieutenant Susan Gard piloting her. Yui took advantage of the short trip to catch another desperately needed nap.


Finally, the ancient Chinese woman found herself sitting on a surprisingly comfortable divan that John Jr. had created for his environment. This brought her up to face level with the odd alien. She had never really comprehended just how large John Jr. had become. His oddly misshapen head was nearly half the size of her entire body and she estimated that he had to be at least 11’ tall. Probably taller. She should have been intimidated by his gargantuan size. But she was just too tired for that. The exhaustion was making her punch drunk. Light-headed. She felt as though her brain was sizzling lightly.

“Forgive me if I sound like I’m speaking down to you or revealing truths you already know,” John Jr. started. “You really need to understand Paladin. That is not their name and not their species. It is their profession. As with me and my siblings, they have no name for their species. We have taken to calling ourselves the godchildren first because you kind of settled on that name for us. But it has taken on a special meaning for us. We are the adopted children of the Federation.”

Yui Song gazed back at the odd, misshapen face in front of her. John Jr.’s skin was the skin of his father, a dark-skinned man of Mexican descent. His eyes were larger than her fist. The purple brush of a Mohawk larger than her leg.

“You have grown,” she observed.

“In many ways, including physically,” John Jr. agreed. “What you need to understand about the Paladin… They have a purpose. Their purpose is to slow the aggression of species entering any galaxy through the Great Wheel. There are thousands of galaxies connected to the Great Wheel and galaxies are added almost daily. The Paladin do not prevent aggressive societies from using the Great Wheel to access new galaxies. But they dampen their aggression.”

Despite her exhaustion, Yui Song shook her head and opened her eyes wider. “Are you telling me they are our protectors?”

“That is their purpose. And they take it seriously,” John Jr. replied. “You already noticed their reliance on honor and valor. Their word is their bond. Think of them not as gods, but as angels. And you conquered them. That is hugely significant to them.”

“You conquered them, you mean,” Yui contended.

“No. I interrupted your victory. But both I and their queen were already aware that you were moments away from victory. As she said, you won the victory fairly. She would not have said that if she did not believe it.”

“Why then did you interrupt our victory to impose your own?” Yui asked.


John Jr. drew a long, slow breath. Yui was suddenly aware that he was controlling deep emotion.


“Because I could not allow my brother’s sacrifice to be in vain. I needed everyone to understand my power. The power to protect my siblings and our new home. But you wrestled with angels. And you brought them down to earth. So take a moment in all of this to let that register.”


Yui Song looked carefully at the giant face in front of her. “Are you a god, John Junior? Are you the king of the godchildren?”


It was extremely odd that a gigantic face only a meter or two in front of her, a misshapen face, like something out of nightmares, could seem soothing, but John Jr. managed it. “We are, each of us, a god to someone or something. But am I king of my siblings?” He thought for a moment. “No. I am eldest.” He gestured with a long, spindly arm.

Commodore Yui Song followed his gaze. To her left and his right, the remainder of his siblings were arrayed. Each was an island of light in the darkness. Each unique shape, a silhouette lit from below. A wall of water. A variety of stags. The rind of a giant face, bouncing slightly, like a spring. A few shapes that shifted into different forms as she looked at them. And behind them all, a planetary sunrise over ASA 4. It was like a wonderful, majestic dream.


“Beautiful,” Yui Song breathed in a hushed, awed voice, her eyes moist, her breath catching with emotion.


“Gods and angels come in many forms, Song. You have won the respect and friendship of both.”

19.1​

 

[Will The Serious]

it’s time for you to put on your big boy pants, grow up, nut up, and step up.

Ha ha ha ha.

“It’s ritual combat,” Commander Wyr responded. “And our side is losing. They’re doing well. Far better than they should be. But they’re losing.”

“No. I interrupted your victory. But both I and their queen were already aware that you were moments away from victory. As she said, you won the victory fairly. She would not have said that if she did not believe it.”

I missed the turnaround here.

Nice read and excellent finally.

-Will

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

I missed the turnaround here.

Nice read and excellent finally.

So did Song...

The U.S.S. Mako was moments away from defeat at the hands of 6 holy lander scarab destroyers. But the Escort base station in the heart of Fortress Escort had not yet been engaged. It would have taken the holy landers at least an hour to take Fortress Escort. Assuming they could. Especially with a freshly arrived and spoiling-for-a-fight Galaxy class cruiser joining the fray. Checkmate in three.

Thanks for the kind words! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 19: And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse
Scene 2: Reach Over the Sun


And you and I reach over the sun for the river …

19.2
Reach Over the Sun​

“So what, exactly are my rights here?”


Captain Rhonda Carter had pulled Captain Ronald Howard, XIV, from the colonial opening preparations for a private conversation about the same time that Captain Phlox was interviewing Pel and Shadow.

Howard’s eye shadow and fingernail polish were a sparkly lavender, something Carter had never seen him wear before. He gestured to the dancing happening further up the beach. A number of the oddly ant-like holy landers, now more generally known as paladin, were, oddly enough, fully engaged in dancing with the various colonists, their movements more akin to break dancing, enabled by their 6 legs and 3 arms, all of which were used vigorously.

“See the man dancing with Akri Dexx?

Carter wrenched her attention from the break-dancing ant-like aliens to find the sultry trill among the colonists. The man dancing with her was wearing only swimming trunks. His entire body was covered with large brown and gold spotting, much like a leopard’s spotting and his attention was entirely captured by his dance partner. “The spotted fellow?”

“Lieutenant Commander Grimir Nurzer, an unjoined trill,” Howard replied. “Apparently Akri is pregnant and she has already convinced him to take a year of paternity leave to help carry and wean her child.”


So many questions sprang to Captain Carter’s mind that she was unable to put them in order. “She’s preg… He’s… That’s a trill?”


Skip Howard giggled. “Yes, Mr. Nurzer is a trill. An equatorial trill, if I recall correctly. Their spots cover their entire body and are very functional for camouflage. And he’s unjoined, which means that he can carry Akri’s joey once it’s born. Since Akri is a joined trill, her marsupium is already occupied by her symbiont. But trill joeys can be carried and nurtured by the male, once born.”

“You’re the biologist, Skip,” Carter rejoined. “If they’re marsupial.. ish… why does she have the best breasts I have ever seen?”

“So you noticed those?” Howard giggled again. “You hit on it with the “ish” part. Trills are neither marsupial nor placental. They’re something kind of in-between. Once the joey emerges from the pouch, they never return and then need to be nursed with milk, which only the females produce.”

Carter took a moment to process this new information. She shook her head. “Okay, so what does that have to do with the inquest?”

Howard had a more serious look. “Nurzer came in on the Citadel. He’s served with Vice Admiral Ho for 4 years now. Inspector General’s office. He’s already read all the reports and started interviewing your crew. Classic technique: enlisted and junior officers first. He won’t schedule your interview until after he has interviewed most of your crew. He’ll leave your chief of boat, first officer and General Krank for last. You have the right to have me present when he interviews you. I’ve been reading up on the procedure, but I’m no lawyer. There are a few onboard Citadel, but they’re all part of his team.”


“Your father’s a lawyer, Skip, right?”


“One of the best,” Howard responded.

“Well, I’m hoping some of that rubbed off. I very much want you there.” Carter took a breath. “So what happens after the interview?”


“I’ll send you the procedure,” Howard replied. “You will have a few days to review it before he calls you. You should ask him whether he interviewed your godchildren. I recall you saying that some of them have the memories of their father. Some of them may be witnesses.”

19.2​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 19: And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse
Scene 3: Towards the Movement


And you and I climb, clearer towards the movement…

19.3
Towards the Movement​

The half-denobulan son of Doctor Phlox, Captain Phillip Phlox, was an unusually tall man. The tallest person currently on Rattleroot Island save only the enormous bearlike tellerite biologist, Drisk javWalirsh. And he was interviewing the two shortest people currently on the island, the diminutive ferengi, Pel and her now inseparable companion, the even smaller purple secret agent, Shadow. Just managing a comfortable conference involved some amount of logistics. Phlox finally settled for sitting on a low stone on the beach, which allowed Pel and Shadow to stand roughly eye-to-eye with him.


“It makes sense to me to target the Oulheadry first, while there is still some memory of your visit there,” Phlox opined. “According to the reports I’ve read, your misadventures there did not end particularly well, but far better than your last encounter with the blue, the purple, and the frost giants.”


“So you want both of us to travel with you?” Pel asked. “What about my ship, the U.S.S. Arizona?”

Captain Phlox leaned his head back and thought for a few moments. “Commodore Yui mentioned it to me, but I hadn’t really thought much about it. Your ship is leased to Star Fleet for the next 40 months. But it was produced in the Oulheadry and later upgraded with Star Fleet technology. Does it still look like something from the Oulheadry?”

It was Pel’s turn to think things through. “Well… On the outside… As long as you don’t look too closely at the nacelles or the shield emitter. Or the micro-torpedo launcher. And it has a beautiful paint job that looks nothing like anything produced in the Oulheadry. I’ve been told the painter turned it into a sort of stylized mural of the Arizona landscape, which inspired the name.”

Captain Phlox smiled as Pel thought through her answer. “I think we can disguise those things. Even preserve the paint job… Who was the artist?”

“Arizona Kind.”

Phlox snorted, then looked at the ferengi more closely. “You’re not joking?”

In response, Pel pointed across the beach to a woman with long, mousy brown hair who was dancing a bit too wildly and clearly a little drunkenly to the music. “That’s her. I’ve only met her a few times, but I like her. I just happen to be her agent in case you’d like to procure some of her paintings...”

Phlox laughed merrily. “I will consider that, but after the end of this part of our joint mission. The U.S.S. Citadel is only briefly my ship. I will have to surrender her once we rendezvous with my actual ship, the U.S.S. Ulysses.”

“Will we return to this system?” Pel asked. “What is your mission? Why do you need so many workers? And where are you taking them?”


Phlox looked at the other participant in this conversation, the small, silent, watchful purple known as Shadow. In the full light of day it was evident that her skin was not black, but a very deep purple. At least her face, hands and feet. The rest was covered by thick, purple fur, over which she was wearing a purple gown. Despite this garment, which was decorated only by a subdued personal communicator pin, she had very much the look of a wild animal, if a clearly very intelligent one.


He looked about again. A small security detail was positioned at a reasonable distance, ensuring that this conversation remained private.


“Commodore Yui has placed great trust in both of you. This is very confidential information, but it’s a secret we won’t be able to keep much longer. At least not in this remote part of the Alpha Quadrant.” He looked down briefly, then took a breath.

“You have been authorized to know the following. Pel, you remember Dolnok Nor, that wreck of a cardassian space station that you visited…”

“How could I forget?” Pel responded with a shudder. “I was chased all over that space station by shining, flying purple wolfhounds. Well, I wasn’t me at the time, I was that roylan chief engineer, Lieutenant Ki…”

Phlox made an amused noise. “Yeah, you spend enough time in deep space and weird stuff like that will happen to you. Believe me, I spent the better part of my life traveling and I just celebrated my 236th birthday. I could tell you stories… Well, anyway, a ferengi trader with clients on the Federation Council, Damon Trock…”

“Trock?” Pel interrupted. “That is a famously wealthy family…”

“They must be,” Phlox rejoined. “Trock has some serious backers, but he must have laid out a lot of his own money at first. He bought salvage rights from the cardassians and the romulans, put together a work crew of cardassians and bajorans, got the thing dragged halfway to the ferengi alliance, which, serendipitously, took it into andorian territory about the time that Commodore Yui’s report about the Jar Galaxy and its links to an untold number of other galaxies reached the Federation Council. And in a matter of days, the Federation Council purchased that station and procured Trock’s services. They’re terrified of another Dominion War and they want a space station near the Jar Galaxy to give them advance notice if something nasty is coming this way.”


Shadow spoke up for the first time:

“So we’re asking these workers to put themselves at great potential risk?”


Phlox turned an eye toward the miniscule ferengi.

Pel took her cue. “And great potential for profit. Those holy landers, are we calling them paladin now? Their purpose is to dampen aggression coming through the Jar… um… the Great Wheel. But not trade. Imagine being in a position to acquire unique items from other galaxies, and then sell those back to your home at a, well, a reasonable markup…”

“So I take it you approve of this venture?” Phlox asked.

“As long as we are honest with the people we try to recruit,” Shadow replied.


“Us, lie?” Phlox asked. “Hey, we’re the Federation here…”


Pel burst into uncontrollable laughter.

19.3​

 

[BountyTrek]

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 19: And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse
Scene 4: Valleys of Endless Seas


And you and I called over the valleys of endless seas ...

19.4
Valleys of Endless Seas​

All the wildness of Gan Baatar’s voice and the alternate whine and scrape of the morin khuur, which he also used to make stunningly realistic horse noises, was more than matched by the vigorous dancing of a dozen different species. A giant bonfire raged behind him.

Professor Newellewell had enthusiastically joined the young theoretical engineer, creating quite audible rhythms by beating his chest. A feature of his species’ guided evolution had gifted gorian males with what amounted to a living drum built into their chests.

None of the other humans, not to mention the dozen other species gathered on Rattleroot Island, had ever heard Mongolian music and the bizarre fusion of the morin khuur and traditional Mongolian singing with native gorian rhythms had never before been imagined. It was being created spontaneously. It shouldn’t have worked. But it did.

Similarly, there was no traditional Mongolian or gorian dancing in response to this music. Akri Dexx and Lieutenant Commander Grimur Nurzer of the newly arrived U.S.S. Citadel were involved in an intricate and quite intimate trillian mating dance ritual. Captain Phillip Phlox and Cetris Rye were managing an equally intricate denobulan dance commonly performed by male denobulans as a bonding ritual. Lieutenant Commander Vranran zh’Kathar and Ensign Tos th’Taahrit were involved in a dance that included intricate movements of their antennae. Tellarites and humans engaged in various, free-form dancing, including a few varieties of line dances. Even the emotionless colonial governor, T’Eln, was using the music to time an extremely slow vulcan dance made up of flowing, but glacially slow and controlled movements.

But by far the most interesting were the strangest aliens in the group: Skip the cthulhuoid, who was swaying lightly to the music, and the several ant-like paladin.


Captain Rhonda Carter had stopped dying her hair and had just cut it so that all the blue was gone and only an inch of spiky gray hair remained. Draped around her neck, the Runt, the youngest and by far the smallest of John Jr.’s siblings, lounged and cuddled very much like a cat. If a cat with six legs, no fur, no tail, no eyes, and a paddle-shaped head with prehensile whiskers.

“I have been a federation diplomat for nearly 30 years and I have never seen such a variety of intelligent species… just… dancing,” opined Erok Gruex, the vrish diplomat. His feathers ruffled in a way that indicated his mirth, even though any human unfamiliar with his species would think he had no sense of humor from the flatness of his voice.

“Not as innocent as they appear,” Carter replied. She and Gruex were observing from further down the beach, closer to the ocean. They had been joined by General Krank.

“So you noticed the variety of holy lander dances?” the elderly klingon general asked.

Rhonda Carter nodded. “The dances of the paladin.”

“What do you mean?” Gruex asked. His feathers indicated alertness. He had caught something in the voices of his companions, both of whom, he knew, were among the most experienced and successful warriors in the Alpha Quadrant.

“They’re in three groups, the females…” Carter pointed to the three largest of the ant-like aliens.

“Clearly sexual,” Krank observed. “Their dance is specifically designed to display their sex organs. Then there are the drones…” Krank pointed to a group of about 20 of the paladin who were dancing in formation.

“Movement in unison, kind of like a six-legged version of the electric slide,” said Carter. Although neither of her companions were human, both had spent enough time with humans to know what the electric slide was – and to have joined in the traditional, ancient human line dance. Carter pointed to a third group, whose frenetic movements were reminiscent of break dancing, but also included a fair amount of tumbling and kicking with all six legs. These 6 aliens were dancing close to each other and avoided violent contact with their peers by mere centimeters. “And the elites.”

“Do you think you could take them?” Krank asked.

“Do you think you could?” Carter answered.

“In my youth, at the height of my training and strength?” Krank responded. “Possibly. But I would leave such battle with many wounds.”

“I’m no spring chicken either. I could take maybe one. Maybe two,” Carter answered. “But I’m actually far more concerned about the Roman Legion over there.” She gestured again to the line-dancing paladin. “Perfect coordination. Tight formation. Those are incredibly dangerous soldiers. I’m glad we didn’t have to fight them hand-to-well… Whichever of their appendages might be thrust at us at any given moment.”

Gruex took a long pull of the drink his hand was wrapped around. “I’m very grateful I do not have to think the way that you do.”

“The respect is mutual,” Krank retorted. “I would hate to have to think like a diplomat.”


A few hundred yards behind them, where the beach dropped off to the deeps of the ocean, the water started to ripple, then boil with a group of newly arrived dancers…






“Mako to Commodore Yui.”

Yui Song, who had also been dancing, stepped away from the beach and found the quietest place she could, behind one of the huts. She touched her communicator pin. “This is Song. Go ahead Mako.”

“Sir, this is Commander Gregg Clark. Can you see the surf from where you are?”

Yui stepped out just a little and started scanning the ocean.

“We’re picking up a large number of those cthulhuoids surfacing just off shore,” Clark continued. “They are dancing and apparently, it's a rain dance. They’re dancing up a storm. We have a large atmospheric disturbance headed your way and it does not appear to be a natural phenomenon.”

Yui shifted her attention to the clouds, which were rapidly gathering and darkening overhead and beginning to spark with lightning. She touched her communicator pin again. “Local Red Alert.”


The dancing and music and conversations, many of them loud and drunken, were suddenly drown out by every communicator pin, Star Fleet, U.S. Marine, and civilian, suddenly shrieking in unison with the bone-jarring red-alert klaxon. Yui Song wasn’t finished.

“Silence klaxon. Announcement mode, this island. ATTENTION!” This last word suddenly erupted simultaneously from every communicator pin. While there was no delay programmed in, the Doppler effect made it sound as if her voice was reinforced with reverb as it came from communicators scattered all over the beach.

“Everyone in the sound of my voice, please move carefully and calmly to the stone pavilion. I want Star Fleet crews and Marines to form up in parade formation around myself, Captain Phlox, Captain Carter and Captain Howard, depending on which ship you are assigned to. Colonists are to gather in the back of the pavilion.”

As Gan Baatar was carefully casing his morin khuur, Pel and Shadow emerged from the nearby dancers and each took Professor Newellewell by the arm. “You too, Professor,” Pel said. “You’re with us.”

Before the large number of people could gather in the pavilion, a gentle rain began, then quickly became a soaking rain, then pelting rain, accompanied by roaring thunder and lightning strikes overhead as the sky went dark.

Some of the colonists and no small number of Star Fleet crew started running toward the pavilion. Others headed toward their huts.


“No one is to run and no one is to enter the huts!” Yui announced, her voice still booming from every communicator. “Security teams, enforce this order.”


A blinding flash of light slammed down, striking Skip Cthulhu. The enormous, squid-like alien rolled quickly to his back, all 12 tentacles reaching toward the sky, lightning dancing along the tips of his tentacles and glowing throughout his body, causing him to glow more and more brightly with dozens of colors. He seemed to be reaching out to the storm, drawing the lightning into his body through his tentacles.


The paladin, instead of seeking shelter, arranged themselves around the giant alien. Each planted all 6 feet and 3 hands firmly in the sand.


Governor T’Eln managed to gracefully weave through the heaving mass of humanity, vulcanity, bolianity and other crew and colonists, to reach Commodore Yui Song. “Commodore, you must end the sonic counteractive program now!”

Yui Song had never imagined the ancient vulcan raising her voice, much less shouting. Almost reflexively, before she was even aware of what she was doing, she touched her communicator pin: “Deactivate subsonic countermeasure program, all units, this island, authorization Yui Song, Commodore, Beagle Alpha one, one A, one A, B.”

She hadn’t noticed the slightly jarring subsonic interference all the communicators had started providing until it was gone, taking herself and everyone else only slightly off edge.

She turned to the ancient vulcan. “Now, please tell me why I just did that.”

“They are supporting SkipRock, helping him control the lightning,” T’Eln replied. “Their song is designed to help him heal and channel the energy. It is taking a lot out of him.”


There was a thunderous roar as the cthulhuoid opened his mouth and emitted a great pulse of energy back toward the sky. A thick beam of deadly white lightning went straight up, piercing the clouds.


“Commander Clark, report!” Commodore Yui hissed into her communicator.

Gregg Clark’s voice erupted from every communicator. “A lot of power coming up from that island. Too much interference to beam anyone out.”

Yui Song considered deactivating conference mode, but she saw that listening to her new first officer was distracting the colonists, helping control their fear and keep them quiet. “Is everyone okay up there, Gregg?”

“No one was close to that beam when it came up from the planet,” Clark replied. “And no one seems to have gotten it into their mind to go close to it now.”

“Thank you, Commander. Keep me appraised of any further developments. Yui out.”

“Aye, Commodore. Mako out.”


T’Eln touched Yui’s arm. “May I make an announcement, Commodore?”

In response, the elderly Chinese commodore touched her communicator pin again. “Authorize Planetary Colonial Governor T’Eln for announcement access.” She then nodded at the far older vulcan.

T’Eln touched her own, civilian communicator pin. “All persons with any telepathic ability, please join me, by touch. We will seek to add our support to our new friend and protector.”

Commodore Yui touched her pin again. “Everyone else, make room for those who are moving forward and remain silent and calm.” There was still quite a buzz of conversation. “I said SILENCE!” There was sufficient authority in Yui Song’s voice to cause the buzz to quickly die down and fade out.

T’Eln seated herself on a stone table, crossed her legs, and reached out her hands. Other vulcans and the few andorians joined, creating a circle with hands joined.


It seemed to go on forever, but after only a few minutes the storm subsided almost as suddenly as it had come, to be replaced with a gentle, soaking rain. It took several minutes before the island’s resident cthuhuloid stopped emitting lightning skyward from his mouth. He gradually rolled down from his upright posture to lay horizontally, in his usual pose, resting on 4 of his tentacles, his swirling, glowing montage of colors gradually slowing and fading. The paladin remained stationed around him, hands and feet planted in the sand, their sub-sonic song almost audible.

Professor Newellewell sidled up next to Captain Skip Howard, an excited expression on his face as he looked out on the smoldering remains of the bonfire, the gradually fading coloring patterns on the whale-sized squid-like alien, the circle of singing, ant-like aliens around him, and the general debris of abandoned frivolity... food... scattered plates and beverage containers... The small, bulldog-like native of ASA 4 cleared his throat, his loud, growly, bass voice punctuating the silence:



"Wow!! You people really know how to throw a party!!”



Skip Howard looked down at the small, red-furred native, then threw back his head and started laughing. His high-pitched giggle was infectious, quickly spreading through the tightly packed crowd of Star Fleet crew, U.S. Marines and civilians.

And You And I Part IV – Apocalypse​

---

This is the final scene for Episode 19.

The adventure will continue with The Star Beagle Adventures, Episode 20: The Revealing Science of God, to be posted in a new thread.

I intend to take a little break in posting here to give my writing a chance to catch up. I am now about halfway through Episode 22.

 

[BountyTrek]

very much like a cat. If a cat with six legs, no fur, no tail, no eyes, and a paddle-shaped head with prehensile whiskers.

That's...cute?

Satisfying wrap-up for this run of episodes, great stuff. Loved the inventive way of having a big old pew-pew space battle without the accompanying death and destruction. Very Trek.

Looking forward to the next chapters!