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Tales from Topographic Oceans: Star Beagle Adventures episodes 20 - 24

Robert Bruce Scott

Commodore
Commodore
Continued from Close to the Edge: Star Beagle Adventures episodes 12 - 19

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The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 20: The Reveaiing Science of God
Scene 1: Amid Fusions of Wonder


Dawn of a light lying between the silence and sold sources
Chased amid fusions of wonder
In moments hardly seen forgotten
Coloured in pastures of chance, dancing leaves cast spells of challenge
Amused but real in thought
We fled from the sea
Whole …


20.1
Amid Fusions of Wonder


“So you’re abandoning us, after all this time?”



Only a human with supreme self-confidence would dare tease a vulcan of T’Eln’s status. Captain Ronald Howard, XIV, had deliberately placed himself within tentacles’ reach of the monstrous beast that now shared his name. T’Eln seemed quite comfortable in the creature’s presence and was often found close to it, as she was now.

Skip Howard had chosen a lavender nail polish and matching eye-shadow. The giant cthulhuoid was mimicking this color with lavender stripes along the back of each of its tentacles. The rest of its body was partially camouflaged, not invisible, but echoing the colors of the beach and vegetation in a pattern that muted the impact of its size.



The ancient vulcan responded without a hint of emotion. Which was no surprise as the kolinar had removed all of her emotions. She regarded Skip Howard, with a cold, emotionless gaze that still gave him the creeps.



“I go where I am most needed. I remain where I am most needed. Skip needs me. And the colonists need me. I have lived a very long and very productive life. Much longer than most vulcans. And of all the things I have seen and done, none are so fascinating, or so profound as the opportunity this place provides to me. The kolinar permanently suppressed my emotions. But not my instincts.”

T’Eln’s expression softened just a little. She stepped toward the monster and placed her hand on its side. In response, the area of thick, rubbery skin around her hand changed color to mimic the light olive color of her skin. Ripples of color passed along its skin. But the four red eyes remained baleful, one focused on Skip Howard, the others looking about the island. Because T’Eln was not near the front of the creature, where the eyes and mouth were, she was outside of its range of vision. But then, Skip Howard realized, vision was not the primary sense this creature relied on.

“I have been in almost constant telepathic contact with Skip. He could be a million years old, but his consciousness is only a few days old. Emotionally, he is an infant. A newborn.”

Skip Howard smiled. “Your maternal instinct is engaged.”

The former premiere of the Vulcan Science Academy gave a single nod of her head. “I am as astonished by that as you are, Captain Howard.”

Howard laughed lightly. “Why do you call him Skip? That’s my name.”

“He is you. At least in part. Captain Carter calls him Skip Cthulhu. Lance Corporal Spitze calls him Skiptomilu, apparently some sort of pun on the name that Carter has given him. I call him Skip Rock. Part of your personality is in him. And part of Rock’s. She was the one who grafted part of your personality into him. I suppose you could say that while you may miss me, I will not miss you. Because part of you will remain here.”

Skip Howard walked slowly and cautiously up to the enormous, and rather terrifying creature that shared his name. And, apparently, part of his personality. He tentatively reached out a hand, which was met by a tentacle.

T’Eln watched emotionlessly.

Howard took a step back from the creature. “So, was he protecting us from his fellow, um, cthulhuoids? What was all that lightning about?”

“The lightning was intended for him, not for us,” T’Eln replied. “Not to kill him, but to seriously wound him and to warn him. The were separating him from the pod. Which would, under normal circumstances, lead to his demise in short order. To employ a human metaphor, think of it as a really nasty divorce.”

“I assume he will survive?” Howard asked.

“If we can learn enough about him quickly enough,” T’Eln replied. “He has found a new pod. He is the first of his kind to form familial relationships with other sentient beings.”



Captain Howard made an amused noise. He stepped forward again until he was close to the point where some of its tentacles folded back along its body. He reached out again to lightly pat a massive tentacle.



“Take care of her for me, buddy.”



The creature responded with a low, creaky rumble, like an ancient, haunted house clearing its throat.

Howard turned to look at the ancient vulcan.

T’Eln responded by raising an eyebrow.


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20.1​
 
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Nice to see this story motoring again. :) Cthulhus and space shrimps and purple fur monsters, oh my!

(If this ever got made into a TV show, the VFX people would really earn their money :lol:).
 
Nice to see this story motoring again. :) Cthulhus and space shrimps and purple fur monsters, oh my!

(If this ever got made into a TV show, the VFX people would really earn their money :lol:).
I'd love to see this series on screen. It would never have been possible until the last decade or so.

Thanks!! rbs
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 20: The Revealing Science of God
Scene 2: Disjointed but with Purpose

Dawn of thought transferred through moments of days under-searching earth, revealing corridors of time provoking memories
Disjointed but with purpose
Craving penetrations offer links with the self instructor's sharp and tender love
As we took to the air
A picture of distance …



20.2
Disjointed but with Purpose


The half-denobulan son of Doctor Phlox, Captain Phillip Phlox, ran his fingers through his thick, gray hair. “Our profession will cause premature graying, Captain. I heard you dyed your hair blue for about a year. I went with what I thought was my natural color for about 2 years. Then I realized that gray had become my natural color.”

Captain Rhonda Carter almost instinctively ran her hand over the inch-long, spiky covering of her own gray hair. “Be glad you still have hair. Skip is losing his.”


The two captains, accompanied by their first officers, Commander Alicia Wyr and the recently returned Lieutenant Commander Zizira Gross, stepped off a turbo lift into a double-wide, largely vacant, straight corridor. Gray walls. Gray metal floors and ceiling.


“He’s a Howard,” Phlox observed. “Red hair, early pattern baldness, and Star Fleet politics are baked into their genetics. His great, great grandfather, Ronald Howard the tenth, was my first officer almost a hundred years ago and took over as captain when I retired. I championed his promotion.”

“So that’s how he knows you.” Carter made an amused noise.

“Last time I saw the 14th Ronald, he was in diapers,” Phlox responded. “I seriously doubt he remembers me. I’ve remained friendly with the family, but my recent careers kept me away from Earth. Time has a way of getting away from you when you’re away from home.” Phlox stopped at a large airlock that took up a section of the port wall 9 meters long and all the way to the ceiling, 3 meters tall.

At well over 2 meters tall, Phlox could place his hand on the ceiling. He placed his hand on the release sensor for the air lock, initiating a ballet of machinery that verified the air pressure on the other side of the inner door, then released the inner door, verified the air pressure again, finally releasing the entrance from the corridor. The entire process took about 3 seconds. The only indication to the officers in the corridor of all this activity was a readout panel on the door and a slight hissing as the outer doors opened.


Rhonda Carter looked inside and caught her breath. Then she hopped slightly, clasped her hands excitedly, and broke into a 10,000-watt smile that could have lit up the enormous cargo bay if it weren’t already flooded with light.


The cargo bay was crammed with machinery needed to provide a serious overhaul for a small starship. But it was dominated by two compact nacelles.


“Merry Christmas, Happy Birthday, take your pick,” Phlox intoned.

“Perhaps we should give the three of them a moment,” Commander Alicia Wyr added. She wrapped an arm around Lt. Cmdr. Gross’ shoulders and placed her hand on Captain Phlox’s shoulder and the three of them took a step back.


Rhonda Carter didn’t even notice.

She walked forward into the enormous cargo bay. The impact of seeing nacelles designed for her ship resting in a spare corner of the gargantuan, refurbished Galaxy class cruiser caused a log jam in her brain. She tried to ask several questions at once, her words and thoughts getting in each others’ way in the process.

“I had forgotten just how big… How did? Who authorized…” She looked to her right. “Is that a warp core?”

Captain Phlox laughed and walked up behind Carter. He dropped a massive hand on her shoulder. “Upgrades that were already on their way to you, Captain. Escort was a prototype and a lot of improvements have been made. But Escort has been on the run and until this assignment, no one has been able to catch up to you long enough to renovate your ship. I suspect if your ship had not been crippled by its venture into another galaxy and back, all these new parts would still be chasing you around. This isn’t all of it.”

Carter turned and looked up at Phlox. She wasn’t the shortest captain in the fleet and he wasn’t the tallest, but their difference in size was visibly quite striking. She looked like a child compared to him.

“I would hug you if I could work out the logistics,” she said.

“I’ll go find you a step ladder,” Zizira Gross quipped.

Phlox’s albino first officer tapped Carter’s bolian first officer on the shoulder and pointed.

Gross's gaze followed Wyr’s finger, then she barked out a laugh. “Ha! Of course there would be a step ladder in a cargo bay.”

Phlox squeezed Carter’s shoulder, then removed his hand. “We cleared out a few dozen spare quarters to create a couple of additional cargo bays up in the saucer section. We have a new impulse drive and a new bridge module for you as well. By the time you complete all the upgrades, you’ll be able to sustain warp 9.6 and your ship will be nearly twice as maneuverable at sub-light speeds.”


As the others were speaking, Zizira Gross turned to see a lone officer approaching along the corridor.

“Lieutenant Gard… I assume you had no problem finding us?”

2nd Lt. Susan Gard made an amused noise as she joined the party. “I can find my way through a maze of an asteroid field. It would be sad if I couldn’t find the secondary cargo bay on a cruiser.”

“Is that Lieutenant Gard’s voice I hear out there?” called Captain Carter.

Gard raised her voice. “Reporting as requested, sir.”

“In here, Lieutenant.” Carter turned toward Captain Phlox. “Captain, if you could give us a moment?” She turned to look at their first officers. “Commanders?”

“Take all the time you need, Captain,” Phlox replied. “Mrs. Nakamura Holland is scheduled to visit us in a few hours. We will decant your gifts following her inspection.” He turned and exited the cargo bay as Susan Gard entered. “Lieutenant.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Gard replied.


Captain Carter walked forward into the cargo bay. She ran a hand along one of the nacelles. 2nd Lt. Gard followed her.

After a moment, the junior officer spoke. “You requested my presence, Captain?”

Rhonda Carter waited a few minutes to respond, continuing to inspect the nacelles. She heard the young officer drawing another breath. “Patience is not one of your virtues, is it, Lieutenant?” She turned to find Gard standing just behind her.

“I suppose not, sir.”

“Good.” Carter tapped Gard’s sternum twice with the meat of her fist. “I’ve had a belly full of that famous Star Fleet stoicism. Stoicism didn’t save Captain sh’Zhiathis’ life. Passion did. Impatience did. She’s awake now. Just a few decks up in the Citadel’s medical center. Her commanding officer is up there now.”

A wave of relief swept across Gard’s features. “I would like to see her.”

“Soon,” Carter replied. “I listened to the recording from your interceptor. It recorded everything from your EVA suit, which, in turn, recorded everything from your communicator while you were on the bridge of that holy lander destroyer. Quite entertaining.”

“I didn’t realize I was being recorded,” Gard responded.

“They’re not going to be playing that one at the academy. But they should,” Carter opined. “My flight director, Lieutenant Christian Singleterry, has been called back to headquarters, to serve in intelligence. Which means I need a new flight director. You’d have to leave your comfortable bunk on the Mako behind, but it does come with a promotion to first lieutenant. And you’ll be with your own kind.”

“My own kind?” Gard asked.

Rhonda Carter tapped Gard’s sternum again. “Fighters, Susan. Fighters.”


20.2​
 
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