That would tally more with the supposed theme of Toltec. But just between you and me Nerys I never trust these United trek guys!
ST: Independence - "The Toltec"
- Thread starter Dnoth
- Start date
That would tally more with the supposed theme of Toltec. But just between you and me Nerys I never trust these United trek guys!
Good policy-things are never what they seem with these guys....
Thank you Mistral for seeing things my way
Nerys I did consider that you were the one most correct about D'noth's intention for this story to be a more of an 'expand your mind' story. 
However ...
Mistral you and I both know what these guys are like! 
However ...
Mistral you and I both know what these guys are like! Author's Note: I know particularly with the last scene, you might be thinking 'been there; done that', but it's in there to set up for a future story where we actually get to find out what's up Aurelia's fourth point of contact.
CHAPTER 7
Supplemental
USS Independence, Conference Room
In Orbit of Maluria VID
"We will not be ignored!" blasted the miner representative.
"No one is ignoring you!" retaliated Captain Aurelia with just as much flare.
Her tone seemed to give the man, Jared Miller, pause.
The elder Rhode Island skipper took the opportunity to advance the dialog, "We have no doubt you have legitimate grievances. But Starfleet’s mission here is to get the mine operational, not solve a labor dispute."
Miller crossed his arms, "The mine won’t be operational without us."
The Saurian local manager leaned in. He addressed Miller, "I’m afraid the safety you want is impossible."
Jinal, the Indy’s Vulcan engineer asked, "What do you mean?"
The manager, Junti, explained, "The miners are not complaining about the conditions of the mine itself. They are afraid of the Nausicaans."
"Well," huffed Aurelia, "There’s not much we can do about that." She leaned back in dismissal.
Killian went into detail, "The Federation has tried to improve relations with the Nausicaans since its founding. The problem is you can barely find a regional government on Nausica, let alone a planetary body. There’s been clan wars going on for hundreds of years. Once you make overtures to one faction, another takes offence. And of course, they all have their own agenda. That’s why Nausicaans are so unpredictable."
Lieutenant Chase offered, a bit out of turn, "That’s a good thing. If they ever got unified, they might be more than just an irritation to the Federation." Immediately after speaking, she wondered if she displayed more knowledge than her role allowed.
After a brief pause, Captain Killian nodded his head in solemn agreement.
"Still," said Miller, "Gallicite isn’t worth dying over."
"No one’s died," observed Junti.
"Not yet," added the miner.
Killian stole a glance from Aurelia. He got the distinct impression she had little interest in solving the labor situation. He offered, "The Rhode Island could hand over phasers and a shield array from one of our shuttles and install it on your compound. It would at least be some level of defense."
"Nausicaans usually only attack soft targets," added Chase, "A few phasers would probably be enough to deter them."
Miller put his hand to his chin. He considered for a moment and spoke, "It’ll do until more permanent defenses can be installed." He pointed at the Saurian, "And I want assurances better defenses will be placed there."
Junti raised his hands in compliance, "Under the circumstances, I’m sure the foundation will approve of such emplacements."
Killian looked at Miller, who nodded. Then, he stood, "Alright then, now that that’s settled, we can get back to the matter at hand." He went on to address the more mundane details of the repair work.
Captain Aurelia was merely there. She didn’t really participate in the discussion. Kimula watched her from an adjacent seat. The counselor was a bit disappointed in her friend, for more than one reason. A confrontation would come soon.
*****
Supplemental
Human Settlement
Maluria II
Neale offered to escort them to the village square. He walked to town, still with dirt on his knees. The trip was not long, only a few minutes.
The village was deceptively primitive. Most structures were earthen domes. The streets were paved with flat stones or bricks. Even though, Zo’Kama’s scans detected electricity, powered by simple, but renewable techniques; an advanced sewage system, which helped irrigate the crops; and even, a wireless data network.
The people were dressed in equally simple attire. Each person who made eye contact with them smiled and bowed slightly. Many used the word namasté as a greeting. None of the away team was familiar with the term, however. The villagers were not scared or concerned in the least with the team’s appearance or presence. There was curiosity, of course, but no malice at all.
As bin Nadal moved deeper into the village with the others, he noticed no distinct business establishments. Services and goods were being provided: a bakery, a tailor, food sellers, etcetera. The difference being, it was all done out of individual homes. No currency was changing hands. No barter was going on that he could determine. He decided to ask his escort, "What type of money system do you have here?"
The man looked back puzzled, "How can you place monetary worth on a full stomach or a sturdy roof? Besides, there is enough."
The tactical officer cocked his head, "Enough what?"
Neale smiled, "This should not be a foreign concept to you. The Federation uses no money as well." He added, "We may not appear to be aware of what goes on outside of this colony, but we are."
The reptilian doctor corrected him, "A system of debit and credit is still used in many areas."
"I’m sure that has its uses," commented the colonist. "We simply remembered it is not necessary."
Karim prompted, "Because there is enough…"
Neale stopped. He was tickled with the idea of teaching such a simple concept to the visitors. "There is enough bread for everyone. There is enough time to help others." He looked at Windslow with purpose, "There is enough compassion and understanding for us all."
In response, the first officer judged, "Sounds more like wishful thinking to me."
The farmer simply grinned and said, "If that’s your choice." He gestured on, "The village center is not far. It will be an efficient place for you to observe the people of our village."
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Ready Room
In Orbit of Maluria VID
"Enter," called Aurelia.
The conference meeting ended several minutes ago. Captain Killian returned to his ship and Aurelia just got the latest tactical scan of the area. The system itself was quiet. Around it, however, was a mish-mash of vessels from various species. Most of it was normal trade traffic. The trade routes were one reason why the Nausicaans found their niche as raiders. It was interesting, the raiders were always careful not to pillage enough to make it worth changing the routes. It was, after all, their mainstay.
The captain looked up to see the blue skin and white hair of her communications officer and counselor. She opened with a casual – and a tired, "What’s up, Kim?"
The Andorian had a stern demeanor. She was here for business. She didn’t sit. "I’ve considered your request to have Commander Windslow evaluated. I’ll order him to see me once he gets back, but not to see if he’s fit for duty or not. I’m ordering him to see me for his own sake and the sake of his family; not because his CO is an eketha."
Sintina’s face soured, "That had better not mean what I think it means."
"It’s a hardwood tree," explained Kimula, "it’s brittle and inflexible, and often breaks in the wind."
Surprisingly, the captain’s expression was one of mild relief, "Not as bad as I thought." She leaned back, not as flustered as Kimula had anticipated, "It doesn’t matter. It won’t take long for him to resign. He doesn’t handle pressure well, if you hadn’t noticed."
The Andorian became calculated in her tact, "What annoys you so much about him?"
"He betrayed the trust of those under his comman…" her tone had an artificial passion in it.
Kimula jumped in, "That’s a practiced, expected answer. There is something else behind it for you."
Sintina puffed bitterly, "You’re an empath now?"
"No," she said, "But I know how to read humanoid body language…and I know a little something about you. Granted, not much considering I’ve known you for three years."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Counselor Kimula finally sat, "Karim and I are arguably your best friends, and we really don’t know that much about you. You don’t talk about yourself. I know your mother died when you were young, but I don’t even know your dad’s name or if you have any siblings."
In an over-the-top, placating tone, Sintina said, "Alejandro. One younger brother, Javier. Happy?"
"Not really." Her antennae twitched as she considered taking the next step. She had come to realize, however, confrontation was often the quickest way to the truth. She began, "We tolerated your…hostility during the war. Hells, all of us needed something to sustain us during that time. You had your hate, so did a lot of others." The counselor noticed Sintina’s jaw clinching and her face started to flush with anger. Despite that, she went on, "The war’s over and you still have it." She cautiously ventured, "I’m beginning to wonder if you had it all along."
Her voice was almost a growl, "Drop it, Counselor."
The warning did not deter her, "What happened to make you so bitter?"
Aurelia rose to her feet and blasted with all her might, "I said, drop it!"
Kimula achieved her short-term goal. It was now time to let Sintina alone with her thoughts. She stood as calmly as the situation would allow. "Permission to be dismissed?"
The response was a quick, "Yeah, get out."
END OF CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 7
Supplemental
USS Independence, Conference Room
In Orbit of Maluria VID
"We will not be ignored!" blasted the miner representative.
"No one is ignoring you!" retaliated Captain Aurelia with just as much flare.
Her tone seemed to give the man, Jared Miller, pause.
The elder Rhode Island skipper took the opportunity to advance the dialog, "We have no doubt you have legitimate grievances. But Starfleet’s mission here is to get the mine operational, not solve a labor dispute."
Miller crossed his arms, "The mine won’t be operational without us."
The Saurian local manager leaned in. He addressed Miller, "I’m afraid the safety you want is impossible."
Jinal, the Indy’s Vulcan engineer asked, "What do you mean?"
The manager, Junti, explained, "The miners are not complaining about the conditions of the mine itself. They are afraid of the Nausicaans."
"Well," huffed Aurelia, "There’s not much we can do about that." She leaned back in dismissal.
Killian went into detail, "The Federation has tried to improve relations with the Nausicaans since its founding. The problem is you can barely find a regional government on Nausica, let alone a planetary body. There’s been clan wars going on for hundreds of years. Once you make overtures to one faction, another takes offence. And of course, they all have their own agenda. That’s why Nausicaans are so unpredictable."
Lieutenant Chase offered, a bit out of turn, "That’s a good thing. If they ever got unified, they might be more than just an irritation to the Federation." Immediately after speaking, she wondered if she displayed more knowledge than her role allowed.
After a brief pause, Captain Killian nodded his head in solemn agreement.
"Still," said Miller, "Gallicite isn’t worth dying over."
"No one’s died," observed Junti.
"Not yet," added the miner.
Killian stole a glance from Aurelia. He got the distinct impression she had little interest in solving the labor situation. He offered, "The Rhode Island could hand over phasers and a shield array from one of our shuttles and install it on your compound. It would at least be some level of defense."
"Nausicaans usually only attack soft targets," added Chase, "A few phasers would probably be enough to deter them."
Miller put his hand to his chin. He considered for a moment and spoke, "It’ll do until more permanent defenses can be installed." He pointed at the Saurian, "And I want assurances better defenses will be placed there."
Junti raised his hands in compliance, "Under the circumstances, I’m sure the foundation will approve of such emplacements."
Killian looked at Miller, who nodded. Then, he stood, "Alright then, now that that’s settled, we can get back to the matter at hand." He went on to address the more mundane details of the repair work.
Captain Aurelia was merely there. She didn’t really participate in the discussion. Kimula watched her from an adjacent seat. The counselor was a bit disappointed in her friend, for more than one reason. A confrontation would come soon.
*****
Supplemental
Human Settlement
Maluria II
Neale offered to escort them to the village square. He walked to town, still with dirt on his knees. The trip was not long, only a few minutes.
The village was deceptively primitive. Most structures were earthen domes. The streets were paved with flat stones or bricks. Even though, Zo’Kama’s scans detected electricity, powered by simple, but renewable techniques; an advanced sewage system, which helped irrigate the crops; and even, a wireless data network.
The people were dressed in equally simple attire. Each person who made eye contact with them smiled and bowed slightly. Many used the word namasté as a greeting. None of the away team was familiar with the term, however. The villagers were not scared or concerned in the least with the team’s appearance or presence. There was curiosity, of course, but no malice at all.
As bin Nadal moved deeper into the village with the others, he noticed no distinct business establishments. Services and goods were being provided: a bakery, a tailor, food sellers, etcetera. The difference being, it was all done out of individual homes. No currency was changing hands. No barter was going on that he could determine. He decided to ask his escort, "What type of money system do you have here?"
The man looked back puzzled, "How can you place monetary worth on a full stomach or a sturdy roof? Besides, there is enough."
The tactical officer cocked his head, "Enough what?"
Neale smiled, "This should not be a foreign concept to you. The Federation uses no money as well." He added, "We may not appear to be aware of what goes on outside of this colony, but we are."
The reptilian doctor corrected him, "A system of debit and credit is still used in many areas."
"I’m sure that has its uses," commented the colonist. "We simply remembered it is not necessary."
Karim prompted, "Because there is enough…"
Neale stopped. He was tickled with the idea of teaching such a simple concept to the visitors. "There is enough bread for everyone. There is enough time to help others." He looked at Windslow with purpose, "There is enough compassion and understanding for us all."
In response, the first officer judged, "Sounds more like wishful thinking to me."
The farmer simply grinned and said, "If that’s your choice." He gestured on, "The village center is not far. It will be an efficient place for you to observe the people of our village."
*****
Supplemental
USS Independence, Ready Room
In Orbit of Maluria VID
"Enter," called Aurelia.
The conference meeting ended several minutes ago. Captain Killian returned to his ship and Aurelia just got the latest tactical scan of the area. The system itself was quiet. Around it, however, was a mish-mash of vessels from various species. Most of it was normal trade traffic. The trade routes were one reason why the Nausicaans found their niche as raiders. It was interesting, the raiders were always careful not to pillage enough to make it worth changing the routes. It was, after all, their mainstay.
The captain looked up to see the blue skin and white hair of her communications officer and counselor. She opened with a casual – and a tired, "What’s up, Kim?"
The Andorian had a stern demeanor. She was here for business. She didn’t sit. "I’ve considered your request to have Commander Windslow evaluated. I’ll order him to see me once he gets back, but not to see if he’s fit for duty or not. I’m ordering him to see me for his own sake and the sake of his family; not because his CO is an eketha."
Sintina’s face soured, "That had better not mean what I think it means."
"It’s a hardwood tree," explained Kimula, "it’s brittle and inflexible, and often breaks in the wind."
Surprisingly, the captain’s expression was one of mild relief, "Not as bad as I thought." She leaned back, not as flustered as Kimula had anticipated, "It doesn’t matter. It won’t take long for him to resign. He doesn’t handle pressure well, if you hadn’t noticed."
The Andorian became calculated in her tact, "What annoys you so much about him?"
"He betrayed the trust of those under his comman…" her tone had an artificial passion in it.
Kimula jumped in, "That’s a practiced, expected answer. There is something else behind it for you."
Sintina puffed bitterly, "You’re an empath now?"
"No," she said, "But I know how to read humanoid body language…and I know a little something about you. Granted, not much considering I’ve known you for three years."
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
Counselor Kimula finally sat, "Karim and I are arguably your best friends, and we really don’t know that much about you. You don’t talk about yourself. I know your mother died when you were young, but I don’t even know your dad’s name or if you have any siblings."
In an over-the-top, placating tone, Sintina said, "Alejandro. One younger brother, Javier. Happy?"
"Not really." Her antennae twitched as she considered taking the next step. She had come to realize, however, confrontation was often the quickest way to the truth. She began, "We tolerated your…hostility during the war. Hells, all of us needed something to sustain us during that time. You had your hate, so did a lot of others." The counselor noticed Sintina’s jaw clinching and her face started to flush with anger. Despite that, she went on, "The war’s over and you still have it." She cautiously ventured, "I’m beginning to wonder if you had it all along."
Her voice was almost a growl, "Drop it, Counselor."
The warning did not deter her, "What happened to make you so bitter?"
Aurelia rose to her feet and blasted with all her might, "I said, drop it!"
Kimula achieved her short-term goal. It was now time to let Sintina alone with her thoughts. She stood as calmly as the situation would allow. "Permission to be dismissed?"
The response was a quick, "Yeah, get out."
END OF CHAPTER 7
Yeah Aurelia has a lovely way with words:
Aurelia has been nailed by Kimula and now the war is over probably does have some demons to wrestle with. How and ever, I don't see her as the touchy feely 'let's talk it out' type. She's more likely to go beat up a few Nausicans! Any of them about handy? Oh yeah there is ... oh dear
On another note: it appears they're not cannibals
Aurelia has been nailed by Kimula and now the war is over probably does have some demons to wrestle with. How and ever, I don't see her as the touchy feely 'let's talk it out' type. She's more likely to go beat up a few Nausicans! Any of them about handy? Oh yeah there is ... oh dear
On another note: it appears they're not cannibals
It was probably the last thing they did
Just read straight through to catch up. My thoughts:
I like the character work with Windslow and his family. You've made him a sympathetic character (for me, at least) who appears to be at a major cross-road in his life. His career, his family, even his life hang in the balance - a nice sub-plot to the story.
An interesting assignment for the Indy and Rhode Island - somewhat mundane, but very plausible. I think you have something up your sleeve here, not sure what though.
A good mystery for the landing party re: the human colony they discovered. (I'm having a few flash-backs to the 'Landru' episode from TOS - can't recall exact episode title).
And what is the chip that rides on Captain Aurelia's shoulder? Maybe we'll find out soon? . . .
Very nice work!
I like the character work with Windslow and his family. You've made him a sympathetic character (for me, at least) who appears to be at a major cross-road in his life. His career, his family, even his life hang in the balance - a nice sub-plot to the story.
An interesting assignment for the Indy and Rhode Island - somewhat mundane, but very plausible. I think you have something up your sleeve here, not sure what though.
A good mystery for the landing party re: the human colony they discovered. (I'm having a few flash-backs to the 'Landru' episode from TOS - can't recall exact episode title).
And what is the chip that rides on Captain Aurelia's shoulder? Maybe we'll find out soon? . . .
Very nice work!
You know what, I like Aurelia. I like her because she isn't a straight arrow. She's got that command chair a bit early perhaps, and she has some serious skeleton in the closet. But ultimately, she's just human. No shame in that.
On another note: It appears they are not cannibals.
On another note: It appears they are not cannibals.
Same thoughts on Aurelia. She is human--flawed, emotional, rather immature--she got that chair about five to ten years too early and it shows. And what is her deep dark secret?
Totally agree and during war time her command style was alllowed or could be overlooked but maybe Kimula is right and it is time she faced up to that human side.
Glad I'm not the only one still a little wary about that!
CHAPTER 8
Supplemental
Human Settlement
Maluria II
The village’s center was a park. It was well landscaped with a shallow creek running through it. A small, pedestrian bridge crossed over the water. Several people loitered in the green grass or on large stones. Small groups, of all ages, were being tutored in various fields of study, each led by an elderly person.
Neale stopped near an old woman and a young girl. The away team paused with him. The two females were silently sitting barefoot on the grass. Their eyes were closed. Neale gestured to the team to be quiet for a moment.
Windslow crossed his arms and sighed impatiently. Bin Nadal placed his hands behind his back and began observing everyone in the park. Doctor Zo’Kama sat and began remove her boots.
Ethan looked at her with mystification, “What are you doing, Doctor?”
The reptilian’s scaled feet were exposed; each toe had a two centimeter, black claw. She gazed up with an indifferent face, “We have a saying on Arkonia. ‘When in Yew’hala, act as the Yew’halans do.’” She added, “Besides, I go barefoot any chance I get.”
The tactical officer stifled a chuckle.
Windslow wasn’t amused, but didn’t try to dissuade her.
Each female gave out a long, deep breath. The elder addressed the child, “Describe what you became aware of.”
The girl, about 10, searched for the words, and said, “It felt like…I was in a room with really good friends, but I didn’t see any people. It was…smooth and silky…and bright, but…soft.” Then, she pointed to Windslow, “When he came, it became darker.”
The first officer’s face became defensive.
“Yes,” the older woman observed, “His energy is vibrating slower relative to ours. He allows his ego to define him. As do the other visitors, but to a lesser extant.”
“Why does he do that?” asked the girl as only the wisdom of a child can.
“Ask him.”
She made eye contact with the disgraced, former captain, “Why are you so unaware?”
The very question was incomprehensible to Ethan. He felt like he was being judged and labeled incompetent or inferior. He began to take offence.
The old woman prompted, “That one is not ready to accept his own abilities. In his mind, he believes you are attacking him. The ego is protecting itself. Do not judge his choices. Simply understand this is what his Oneself has decided to experience.”
“Yes, Sempai,” said the girl.
Windslow fumed, still believing his was being berated by a child.
The two females stood. The mentor greeted Neale, “Namasté.”
He returned the salutation and introduced the visitors, “These individuals are here to assess the colony’s condition: Ethan, Karim, and Zo’Kama.”
“It is not often Starfleet comes to Tollen.” She remembered, “My form was an adolescent when last they visited.” She looked them over, “I preferred the red uniforms with the shoulder strap, however.” She smiled.
The comment served to lighten the mood of the away team.
Windslow offered a hand, but was still somber, “I’m Commander Ethan Windslow, first officer of the USS Independence. You must be Sierra. Neale says you’re as close to a village leader as there is.”
She took it and dismissed the title he assumed of her, “I am simply recognized as one with many experiences and understandings. I’ve served as a sempai for many years.”
“I’ve heard of that title,” said Karim, “It comes from Japan on Earth. It’s like a teacher or mentor.”
“We find the term useful,” said Sierra. “Though, the traditional meaning isn’t totally accurate in our case.” She explained, “Sempai do not claim superiority over their students, or kohai; only more experience. And each kohai chooses their own mentor, or mentors.”
Windslow commented, “So there are no teachers or classes per say.”
Sierra grinned, “We are all teachers…and all students.”
He wasn’t impressed with her ‘fortune-cookie’ response. He pointed at the girl, “Where are her…”
She informed him, “Heather.”
“…Heather’s parents?”
Sierra shrugged, “I’m not sure.”
Neale offered, “I think they went hiking in the Western Hills.”
“So you’re her guardian?” pressed Windslow.
“Guardian?” she repeated. “What an interesting choice of word.” She said, “We are all responsible for each other.”
The first officer’s mind began to process the answer, “So, the parents aren’t obligated to raise their own child?”
Neale answered in bewilderment, “Obligation? That concept implies a lack of choice. It is a false idea.”
Windslow shook his head in disbelief. His mind didn’t see the irony of the judgment he was making.
Bin Nadal picked up the conversion after a lull, “You’re colony is near Nausicaan space. Do you have much trouble with them?”
“‘Trouble’ is a label given by the mind,” said Sierra.
The Arkonian repeated the security officer’s question, in a more clinical manner, “Do the Nausicaans ever steal or…cause damage to your colony.”
Sierra nodded, “I understand your meaning. We simply strive to be accurate with our words and thoughts. I can see how it might be…frustrating to individuals not accustomed to it.” She went on, “Small groups of Nausicaans raid our colony every few months.”
“But never the same Nausicaans twice,” added Neale.
“Why’s that?” came from Karim.
Both Neale and Sierra thought before responding. The woman answered with, “They soon discover we have nothing they desire.”
The Persian continued, “Even if your technology doesn’t impress them, Nausicaans have been known to trade slaves to the Orion Syndicate. They’ve never tried to kidnap anyone?”
Neale confirmed, “Some did intend to.”
“What stopped them?” prompted Windslow.
Sierra replied cryptically, “They…changed their mind.”
END OF CHAPTER 8
Supplemental
Human Settlement
Maluria II
The village’s center was a park. It was well landscaped with a shallow creek running through it. A small, pedestrian bridge crossed over the water. Several people loitered in the green grass or on large stones. Small groups, of all ages, were being tutored in various fields of study, each led by an elderly person.
Neale stopped near an old woman and a young girl. The away team paused with him. The two females were silently sitting barefoot on the grass. Their eyes were closed. Neale gestured to the team to be quiet for a moment.
Windslow crossed his arms and sighed impatiently. Bin Nadal placed his hands behind his back and began observing everyone in the park. Doctor Zo’Kama sat and began remove her boots.
Ethan looked at her with mystification, “What are you doing, Doctor?”
The reptilian’s scaled feet were exposed; each toe had a two centimeter, black claw. She gazed up with an indifferent face, “We have a saying on Arkonia. ‘When in Yew’hala, act as the Yew’halans do.’” She added, “Besides, I go barefoot any chance I get.”
The tactical officer stifled a chuckle.
Windslow wasn’t amused, but didn’t try to dissuade her.
Each female gave out a long, deep breath. The elder addressed the child, “Describe what you became aware of.”
The girl, about 10, searched for the words, and said, “It felt like…I was in a room with really good friends, but I didn’t see any people. It was…smooth and silky…and bright, but…soft.” Then, she pointed to Windslow, “When he came, it became darker.”
The first officer’s face became defensive.
“Yes,” the older woman observed, “His energy is vibrating slower relative to ours. He allows his ego to define him. As do the other visitors, but to a lesser extant.”
“Why does he do that?” asked the girl as only the wisdom of a child can.
“Ask him.”
She made eye contact with the disgraced, former captain, “Why are you so unaware?”
The very question was incomprehensible to Ethan. He felt like he was being judged and labeled incompetent or inferior. He began to take offence.
The old woman prompted, “That one is not ready to accept his own abilities. In his mind, he believes you are attacking him. The ego is protecting itself. Do not judge his choices. Simply understand this is what his Oneself has decided to experience.”
“Yes, Sempai,” said the girl.
Windslow fumed, still believing his was being berated by a child.
The two females stood. The mentor greeted Neale, “Namasté.”
He returned the salutation and introduced the visitors, “These individuals are here to assess the colony’s condition: Ethan, Karim, and Zo’Kama.”
“It is not often Starfleet comes to Tollen.” She remembered, “My form was an adolescent when last they visited.” She looked them over, “I preferred the red uniforms with the shoulder strap, however.” She smiled.
The comment served to lighten the mood of the away team.
Windslow offered a hand, but was still somber, “I’m Commander Ethan Windslow, first officer of the USS Independence. You must be Sierra. Neale says you’re as close to a village leader as there is.”
She took it and dismissed the title he assumed of her, “I am simply recognized as one with many experiences and understandings. I’ve served as a sempai for many years.”
“I’ve heard of that title,” said Karim, “It comes from Japan on Earth. It’s like a teacher or mentor.”
“We find the term useful,” said Sierra. “Though, the traditional meaning isn’t totally accurate in our case.” She explained, “Sempai do not claim superiority over their students, or kohai; only more experience. And each kohai chooses their own mentor, or mentors.”
Windslow commented, “So there are no teachers or classes per say.”
Sierra grinned, “We are all teachers…and all students.”
He wasn’t impressed with her ‘fortune-cookie’ response. He pointed at the girl, “Where are her…”
She informed him, “Heather.”
“…Heather’s parents?”
Sierra shrugged, “I’m not sure.”
Neale offered, “I think they went hiking in the Western Hills.”
“So you’re her guardian?” pressed Windslow.
“Guardian?” she repeated. “What an interesting choice of word.” She said, “We are all responsible for each other.”
The first officer’s mind began to process the answer, “So, the parents aren’t obligated to raise their own child?”
Neale answered in bewilderment, “Obligation? That concept implies a lack of choice. It is a false idea.”
Windslow shook his head in disbelief. His mind didn’t see the irony of the judgment he was making.
Bin Nadal picked up the conversion after a lull, “You’re colony is near Nausicaan space. Do you have much trouble with them?”
“‘Trouble’ is a label given by the mind,” said Sierra.
The Arkonian repeated the security officer’s question, in a more clinical manner, “Do the Nausicaans ever steal or…cause damage to your colony.”
Sierra nodded, “I understand your meaning. We simply strive to be accurate with our words and thoughts. I can see how it might be…frustrating to individuals not accustomed to it.” She went on, “Small groups of Nausicaans raid our colony every few months.”
“But never the same Nausicaans twice,” added Neale.
“Why’s that?” came from Karim.
Both Neale and Sierra thought before responding. The woman answered with, “They soon discover we have nothing they desire.”
The Persian continued, “Even if your technology doesn’t impress them, Nausicaans have been known to trade slaves to the Orion Syndicate. They’ve never tried to kidnap anyone?”
Neale confirmed, “Some did intend to.”
“What stopped them?” prompted Windslow.
Sierra replied cryptically, “They…changed their mind.”
END OF CHAPTER 8
Changed their minds, huh?
Sounds like there's a little mystical mumbo jumbo here somewhere...and poor Ethan, he didn't like getting the third degree from Heather. I guess he needs an epiphany.
Sounds like there's a little mystical mumbo jumbo here somewhere...and poor Ethan, he didn't like getting the third degree from Heather. I guess he needs an epiphany.
I like these guys (I think). At the very least they might force Windslow to re-evaluate himself and that is crucial if he ever intends to get over his problems and his past mistakes.
But there is clearly another dimension to these space-age hippies that we are not seeing. And that could be trouble.
Fascinating stuff.
But there is clearly another dimension to these space-age hippies that we are not seeing. And that could be trouble.
Fascinating stuff.
Nausicaan's "changing" their mind...
Abilities like that are two-edged swords--like Peter Parker would say, "With great power..."
Still, looks like Windslow--like it or not--is about to take the first step towards recovery.
Abilities like that are two-edged swords--like Peter Parker would say, "With great power..."
Still, looks like Windslow--like it or not--is about to take the first step towards recovery.
Ok so maybe not cannibals ... but their ability to make the Nausicans change their mind doesn't seem like it rested on their oral language skills. I have a feeling that the crew would probably end up preferring that they were cannibals.
Mind you they could be the space hippies they appear to be. But even that is fairly disconcerting for Windslow.
Mind you they could be the space hippies they appear to be. But even that is fairly disconcerting for Windslow.
Uh-oh...I'm starting to wonder if there's something mind-altering in the air in this place. (And we DID see that on Archer IV, so it's definitely possible.)
CHAPTER 9
Supplemental
Raider Ship Raaik
Traveling at Low Warp near the Maluria System
Nausicaans were arguably the most intimidating looking species in the Alpha Quadrant. Their long locks, row of forehead spikes, and evil-looking mandibles were the things of nightmares.
Juhin Wi’jawk slammed his fist on the metal table when he heard the report from Shikikan Maniv. “The Kyluk Empire will not go unpunished for this insult!”
The shikikan, or commander, just relayed the findings from another ship allied with the Hi’ought Shogunate. Their scans confirmed a vessel from the Kyluk Empire, a chief rival, was the one that attacked the Federation mining station.
Juhin, roughly translated: quartermaster, Wi’jawk continued, “We should contact Junti and explain the situation.”
“Impossible,” explained the commander, “Starfleet was called in to repair the damage. They might intercept it.”
For all intents and purposes, the juhin of a ship was in charge. The only exception was in matters of combat and tactics. In those situations, the shikikan was the ultimate authority.
Wi’jawk sat and brooded, “The Syndicate will not be getting their gallicite this month.”
*****
Supplemental
Human Settlement (Tollen)
Maluria II
The setting sun gave way to unfamiliar stars. It cooled, but it was still comfortable. The winds picked up.
Inside an earthen dome, there was a central fire pit with an open chimney a few meters above it. It seemed a primitive way to heat one’s home, but it worked well. Wooden furniture adorned the perimeter. Sierra and Neale sat on a padded, wicker love seat. Windslow and bin Nadal rested in rocking chairs. The reptilian doctor opted to sit on the warm, sandstone floor. Heather slept in a nearby alcove.
“Thank you for offering your home for us to stay in,” said Windslow again. Though, he obviously wasn’t comfortable there.
She grinned and warmly corrected him, “It is mine only in that I currently inhabit it.”
The first officer grimaced. He was getting rather tired of all this semantic bull crap.
Neale explained, “You see, we don’t claim ownership over material things. The closest we come to that would be what you call ‘stewardship.’”
“That’s not such an odd idea,” commented Karim, “Many human traditions advocate that type of thinking.”
“Very true,” said Sierra, “Our ideas are nothing new. In fact, they are millennia old. Unfortunately, the ideas never really caught hold on Earth.”
“Hence, your ancestors founded this colony,” stated Zo’Kama.
“Exactly.”
After a moments silence, Neale started, “I’m curious, Karim. How do you define yourself?”
“How do I define myself?” he repeated. It’s not often he got asked such a question. Despite that, he decided to humor him. He shrugged, “I’m a Federation citizen, a Starfleet officer, a human.”
The middle-aged man leaned in with genuine curiosity, “So, you believe you are defined by your physical form and the labels others in your society give you?”
“I suppose I do,” he admitted. “I mean, I live within the bounds of that society, so why not?” He thought more on it, “But if you mean in a more abstract sense, I guess I subscribe to Descartes’ supposition, ‘I think therefore I am.’”
“So,” gathered Neale, “You believe you are your thoughts and your mind?”
“Ultimately, yes,” confirmed the officer.
The two Tollen colonists gently smiled at each other. Neale continued, “May I make a suggestion to that theory?”
Windslow was not engaged in the conversation. He considered these people little more than cultists. Zo’Kama, on the other hand, was riveted.
“Sure.”
“What if, instead of ‘I think therefore I am;’ ‘I am the awareness that perceives the thoughts.’”
The tactical chief came back with, “Kind of seems like splitting hairs.”
“Oh no,” said Neale softly, “It is the difference between being asleep and being awake.”
“How so?” asked the Arkonian.
Sierra spoke up, “Let me put it another way.” She asked Karim, “I assume from your previous answer that you do not believe you are your body?”
The Persian nodded, “I suppose that’s true. Many philosophies think the body is a tool the real you inhabits.”
“I see,” she said. “So, the body is a physical construct.”
“I can see that.”
Sierra took it a step further, “What if the ego and the mind are just other tools; mental constructs.”
It was in Karim’s nature to be open to possibilities. He thought of it logically. “If you are not your body…and you are not your mind, what’s left? Spirit?”
She replied, “That word has too many false ideas attached to it. But to answer your question: consciousness, pure awareness, is what is left.”
At this point Windslow jumped in. He surmised, “It sounds like you’re talking about God.”
“Again,” she said calmly, “The word ‘God’ is burdened with many inaccurate thoughts, but…”
This was the proof that these people were delusional. “But you believe you’re God,” he persisted.
The elderly woman smiled wide at his accusation. She purposely used his own wording, “Not only am I God, but so are you…and so is everyone else.”
The first officer stood and puffed indignantly, “Such arrogance. If you’re God, smite me down were I stand.”
His theatrics only served to embarrass his officers. Neale and Sierra observed the drama indifferently.
“What you think of as God does not smite. Punishment is an illusion of the mind. That is the prime reason why that word is too tainted to use. We prefer using ‘Being.’”
Ethan refused to listen to any more. He headed for the exit. “I’m going to sleep in the Lugar. We leave right after tomorrow’s meeting.” Then, he was gone.
As calm as ever, Sierra looked to Neale, “That one is close to a greater understanding.”
“What do you mean?” asked Karim.
The man stated, “Times of great turmoil are favorable situations to gain a higher awareness.”
Bin Nadal shook his head, “I still don’t understand.”
This time, it was Zo’Kama that provided the insight, “No one soul searches during good times.”
END OF CHAPTER 9
Supplemental
Raider Ship Raaik
Traveling at Low Warp near the Maluria System
Nausicaans were arguably the most intimidating looking species in the Alpha Quadrant. Their long locks, row of forehead spikes, and evil-looking mandibles were the things of nightmares.
Juhin Wi’jawk slammed his fist on the metal table when he heard the report from Shikikan Maniv. “The Kyluk Empire will not go unpunished for this insult!”
The shikikan, or commander, just relayed the findings from another ship allied with the Hi’ought Shogunate. Their scans confirmed a vessel from the Kyluk Empire, a chief rival, was the one that attacked the Federation mining station.
Juhin, roughly translated: quartermaster, Wi’jawk continued, “We should contact Junti and explain the situation.”
“Impossible,” explained the commander, “Starfleet was called in to repair the damage. They might intercept it.”
For all intents and purposes, the juhin of a ship was in charge. The only exception was in matters of combat and tactics. In those situations, the shikikan was the ultimate authority.
Wi’jawk sat and brooded, “The Syndicate will not be getting their gallicite this month.”
*****
Supplemental
Human Settlement (Tollen)
Maluria II
The setting sun gave way to unfamiliar stars. It cooled, but it was still comfortable. The winds picked up.
Inside an earthen dome, there was a central fire pit with an open chimney a few meters above it. It seemed a primitive way to heat one’s home, but it worked well. Wooden furniture adorned the perimeter. Sierra and Neale sat on a padded, wicker love seat. Windslow and bin Nadal rested in rocking chairs. The reptilian doctor opted to sit on the warm, sandstone floor. Heather slept in a nearby alcove.
“Thank you for offering your home for us to stay in,” said Windslow again. Though, he obviously wasn’t comfortable there.
She grinned and warmly corrected him, “It is mine only in that I currently inhabit it.”
The first officer grimaced. He was getting rather tired of all this semantic bull crap.
Neale explained, “You see, we don’t claim ownership over material things. The closest we come to that would be what you call ‘stewardship.’”
“That’s not such an odd idea,” commented Karim, “Many human traditions advocate that type of thinking.”
“Very true,” said Sierra, “Our ideas are nothing new. In fact, they are millennia old. Unfortunately, the ideas never really caught hold on Earth.”
“Hence, your ancestors founded this colony,” stated Zo’Kama.
“Exactly.”
After a moments silence, Neale started, “I’m curious, Karim. How do you define yourself?”
“How do I define myself?” he repeated. It’s not often he got asked such a question. Despite that, he decided to humor him. He shrugged, “I’m a Federation citizen, a Starfleet officer, a human.”
The middle-aged man leaned in with genuine curiosity, “So, you believe you are defined by your physical form and the labels others in your society give you?”
“I suppose I do,” he admitted. “I mean, I live within the bounds of that society, so why not?” He thought more on it, “But if you mean in a more abstract sense, I guess I subscribe to Descartes’ supposition, ‘I think therefore I am.’”
“So,” gathered Neale, “You believe you are your thoughts and your mind?”
“Ultimately, yes,” confirmed the officer.
The two Tollen colonists gently smiled at each other. Neale continued, “May I make a suggestion to that theory?”
Windslow was not engaged in the conversation. He considered these people little more than cultists. Zo’Kama, on the other hand, was riveted.
“Sure.”
“What if, instead of ‘I think therefore I am;’ ‘I am the awareness that perceives the thoughts.’”
The tactical chief came back with, “Kind of seems like splitting hairs.”
“Oh no,” said Neale softly, “It is the difference between being asleep and being awake.”
“How so?” asked the Arkonian.
Sierra spoke up, “Let me put it another way.” She asked Karim, “I assume from your previous answer that you do not believe you are your body?”
The Persian nodded, “I suppose that’s true. Many philosophies think the body is a tool the real you inhabits.”
“I see,” she said. “So, the body is a physical construct.”
“I can see that.”
Sierra took it a step further, “What if the ego and the mind are just other tools; mental constructs.”
It was in Karim’s nature to be open to possibilities. He thought of it logically. “If you are not your body…and you are not your mind, what’s left? Spirit?”
She replied, “That word has too many false ideas attached to it. But to answer your question: consciousness, pure awareness, is what is left.”
At this point Windslow jumped in. He surmised, “It sounds like you’re talking about God.”
“Again,” she said calmly, “The word ‘God’ is burdened with many inaccurate thoughts, but…”
This was the proof that these people were delusional. “But you believe you’re God,” he persisted.
The elderly woman smiled wide at his accusation. She purposely used his own wording, “Not only am I God, but so are you…and so is everyone else.”
The first officer stood and puffed indignantly, “Such arrogance. If you’re God, smite me down were I stand.”
His theatrics only served to embarrass his officers. Neale and Sierra observed the drama indifferently.
“What you think of as God does not smite. Punishment is an illusion of the mind. That is the prime reason why that word is too tainted to use. We prefer using ‘Being.’”
Ethan refused to listen to any more. He headed for the exit. “I’m going to sleep in the Lugar. We leave right after tomorrow’s meeting.” Then, he was gone.
As calm as ever, Sierra looked to Neale, “That one is close to a greater understanding.”
“What do you mean?” asked Karim.
The man stated, “Times of great turmoil are favorable situations to gain a higher awareness.”
Bin Nadal shook his head, “I still don’t understand.”
This time, it was Zo’Kama that provided the insight, “No one soul searches during good times.”
END OF CHAPTER 9
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