Star Trek Hunter Episode 24: A Trillian Problem

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 16: The Children of Rising Sun

24.16
The Children of Rising Sun​

Rising Sun was an Earth-like planet on which an intelligent, humanoid species had once thrived but had become extinct nearly 20,000 years ago, leaving behind tantalizing clues of a culture that, on at least four separate occasions, each separated by thousands of years and located on different continents, had been on the verge of an industrial revolution, only to back away each time and return to a more primitive agrarian culture. This dead race had left no descendants and its only remotely close living relative was a vigorous and curious, if foul tempered creature not entirely unlike a large and rather dangerously carnivorous lemur.


The Vulcan Science Academy eventually approved the planet for human habitation and over the next three centuries a few small colonies of vulcan xenoanthropologists shared the planet with a burgeoning human population, mostly farmers. The Vulcan High Command had been very interested in populating Rising Sun as quickly as possible because it was strategically located near the border of the Klingon Empire.

Unlike Earth and Vulcan, where human and vulcan populations were very integrated, the vulcans and humans of Rising Sun kept very much to their own communities. There were two iconic locations on Rising Sun well known by sight throughout the Federation. One site was nearly 28,000 years old – a city of massive stones that had been erected by Rising Sun’s extinct indigenous population – the last and greatest of their great works. A forest had later grown in among these stones, but the tallest of the stones towered well above the tree tops. These were located on Central Island – a large landmass populated only by researchers and was apparently the place where the species had first emerged.

The other icon on Rising Sun was a new harbor located in the Soda Toer Archipelago – a beautifully designed new city that offered stunning views from every angle. The human population of Rising Sun had exploded and the entire landmass of the archipelago had become a massive city filled with buildings, gardens and waterways bursting with color. Massive, brightly colored bridges burgeoning with even more housing and shops connected the various islands of the archipelago.


It was at Toer Harbor that the President and President-Elect of the Federation gave an unexpected joint presentation, backed by several hundred Star Fleet officers and officers from the Soda Toer Port Authority, the New York Port Authority and the New York City Police Department. Each officer was holding a pad turned toward the camera, displaying the photoimage of a child. Federation President Maria Rodriguez spoke first.


“Only three weeks ago, members of a terrorist organization, now known as Venus First, poisoned more than four hundred children and set their bodies afloat in the Hudson River. We retrieved the bodies of 411 children. We have now identified that at least 417 children were murdered in one of the most horrifying hate crimes of our time. I promised you then that I would release the names of those children, but only after the investigation was complete.”

“The New York Port Authority took the lead in the investigation until they were able to identify that a large number of the children were not from Earth. A joint task force was developed, led by the New York City Police Department and involving local agencies across the Federation and coordinated by Star Fleet Intelligence. The terrorist unit that planned and carried out this atrocity was traced to Rising Sun. They kidnapped 98 of those children here.”

President-Elect Ivonovic picked up the story:

“The terrorists have been identified and arrested. You will eventually learn their names as they are brought to trial. But it is more important to note that these people, styling themselves as Venus First, planned and executed this atrocity as the opening act for their unimaginable next act – the Venusian Massacre. More arrests will follow very swiftly. We have the list of names and their leadership has already been arrested. Local authorities throughout the Federation will be rolling up local units.”

Ivonovic took a deep breath and continued. “It is worth noting that the murder of children in the Hudson River Incident was so shocking to the conscience that hundreds of members of Earth First have turned themselves in and agreed to turn State’s evidence against the perpetrators of these atrocities. We continue to encourage the members of these extremist groups to look into your hearts. Is this your legacy? The murder of children? The massacre of innocent life? We continue to hold out the hope that you will set aside your fear and come back to us. You don’t have to turn in your confederates. Just turn away from violence and hate and reaffirm your commitment to the safety and health of your people. Violence is not the way. Terrorism is not the way. You may have legitimate concerns. You may be legitimately concerned about the future of your children. Work with us to address them the right way, not by murdering children.”

Federation President Maria Rodriguez held up the pad in her hand.

“Today is not the day to name the defendants,” she said. “Their names should not be the names you remember. Each person standing here with me is holding a photogram. I promised that we would release the names of the children who were murdered. This child was Henry Argent. Henry was a talented organist and with his brothers had just completed a concert tour of Rising Sun,” President Rodriguez caught her breath… “Henry was 11 years old.”

President-Elect Ivonovic held up a pad. His voice was husky with emotion. “This is Robert Argent, who played violin, balalaika and the chelnoise flute with his brothers. Like his brothers, Robert was from this city, Toer Harbor, here on Rising Sun. Robert was 9 years old.”

An older woman wearing the uniform of the Soda Toer Port Authority was standing next to Ivonovic. The decoration on her uniform made it evident she was a very high ranking officer. She held up a pad with a photogram. Her face was shiny with tears. “This is Thomas Argent. Only 14 years old, Thomas was already considered one of the most talented drummers on Rising Sun…”

24.16 (of 19)​

 

Excellent chapter.

 

A real emotional ending. Nice choice to withhold the names of the arrested. Both as a strategic move and a social benefit.

Great job.

-Will

 

Thanks for the kind words... Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 17: The Tears of a Clown

24.17
The Tears of a Clown​

When Justice Minerva Irons had captained the U.S.S. Hunter, she had spent as much time as possible in the company of her most trusted friend and advisor, the ship’s andorian Medical Director, Dr. Tali Shae.

Captain Kenneth Dolphin’s most trusted friend and advisor was his vulcan Director of Ground Operations, Lt. T’Lon. What had begun as a desperate sexual affair arising from T’Lon’s first Pon Farr had evolved into a very close, if platonic friendship.

Dolphin had changed the décor in the captain’s stateroom, opting for a brighter, airier look filled with whites and light browns instead of the somber colors preferred by his predecessor. He and T’Lon were seated next to each other on one of two large, beige, semi-circular divans, sharing a bowl of vinars – a fruit they had picked up on Trillus Prime that bore no resemblance to a grape and tasted nothing at all like grapefruit.


“The Vulcan Science Academy is not going to be happy about the way we used their satellites,” said T’Lon.

“That would be most illogical of them,” Dolphin observed. “We didn’t tamper with their weather control satellites. We just took advantage of the fact that some of their own local employees did.”

“The academy will be particularly incensed with those two,” T’Lon observed. “I would be surprised if either Rumor Boel or Elaine Norman ever work as climatologists again.”

“If they apply to Star Fleet, I will certainly give them a recommendation,” said Dolphin. “We got lucky with those two. If they hadn’t kicked up all that fog, we were almost certainly facing a bloodbath and it’s doubtful we would have been able to keep Mulaax from taking the sanctuary. It was a brilliant plan you and Marks cooked up.”

“I can’t take credit for it,” said T’Lon. “It was Dr. Marks’ plan. I just helped work out the logistics. I was surprised you agreed to it so fast.”

“It was a harebrained, cockamaimy scheme and I figured it was probably going to get me killed,” Dolphin replied. “But it was our only chance to avoid a bloodbath. I was just really lucky that furry fellow happened to be there with his plasma cannon or I would have gotten blown into chunks of Dolphin meat.”

T’Lon made a face as she swallowed another vinar. “Gaia isn’t considering Marks for the Flight Director slot?”

Dolphin shook his head. “Marks isn’t ready. She’s a brilliant strategist and tactician, but in the field, she hesitates. That gets people killed. I can’t have her directing flight operations until she’s had a lot more field work and picked up some leadership skills.”

T’Lon cocked her head, looked at Dolphin inquisitively. “You told Gaia that?”

Dolphin made an amused noise. “I wouldn’t have promoted Gaia if I had to tell her that.”


T’Lon picked up another vinar and looked at it. Neither she nor Dolphin seemed to like the taste of this trillian fruit, but they also both seemed unable to stop eating them. “Do you think those amateur climatologists knew that Star Fleet sensors would be able to see through that heavy ionization they added to the fog?”

“I doubt they even thought about it. But I bet they knew the Trillian Master Force sensors wouldn’t be able to see through it.” Dolphin picked up another vinar as well, hesitated before putting it in his mouth. It had an odd, silky texture. He grimaced at the taste. “The trills are still relatively new to faster-than-light travel. Their technology is centuries behind Star Fleet. Even so, we really got lucky. If they had put on a full frontal assault, we would have had to kill tens of thousands of them to keep them from slaughtering the bulk of the symbionts.”

“You know there will be an inquest.” said T’Lon

“As there should be any time Star Fleet engages the military forces of an ally, even if they are in a state of mutiny…” said Dolphin.

“Barratry,” T’Lon corrected. “At the inquest you will be required to answer for the 343 trill soldiers you killed when you ordered the counterattack on their artillery.”

“I’m sorry they died, but I won’t lose any sleep over them,” Dolphin replied. “There were zero non-lethal options. And they died in the commission of a crime - obeying an illegal order… They were planning to slaughter thousands of symbionts.”

“You will lose sleep over this, Kenny,” T’Lon rejoined. “It may have been operationally necessary and morally justified, but human emotions are never that straightforward. And this is a new area of law. I can’t remember the last time Star Fleet used the Cultural Treasures Clause of Section 19 of the charter to justify military action against an ally.”

“There is only one Sanctuary of the Symbionts and only a few thousand symbionts,” Dolphin observed. “I doubt we will ever find a clearer imperative to…”


The door chime to the captain’s chambers sounded.


Dolphin exchanged a surprised glance with T’Lon. They both rose. Dolphin took a step toward the door:

“Enter.”


The door opened to admit the Hunter’s new imoginette transporter engineer. The fine, shell-like skin around Dragomut’s eyes was reddened and streaked with tears that also left the black uniform damp. The androgynous creature stumbled and Captain Dolphin reacted quickly, catching and settling the inconsolable engineer on the divan.

It was evident that Dragomut desperately needed comforting, which did not come naturally to either T’Lon or Dolphin. In spite of having been raised among humans, T’Lon was still fully vulcan and actively suppressed her emotions. Although fully human, Dolphin had been raised in a family of New England WASPs, lawyers no less, and was no more adept or comfortable handling human emotions than the average vulcan. But there was one difference.

Dolphin sat down and brought his odd, androgynous, alien crewmember into his arms. Somewhere, deep in his mind was the memory of comforting his daughters when their hearts had been broken by some more or less consequential event. Sometimes they were crying over nothing – a broken toy. Sometimes they were crying over something that he had wished he could cry with them about – their broken family. He was stroking an oddly soft, shell-like conical skull instead of fine blonde hair, but the nurturing instinct was the same.

If these strange, extremely shy aliens could not find a home aboard the U.S.S. Hunter, how would they fit into an increasingly fractious, suspicious and xenophobic federation? Dolphin felt ashamed of his reticence, ashamed of the warring trills and andorians and more than any others, the murderous dregs of humanity daring to style themselves as Earth First or Venus First. Murder First – that’s what they were.


Dolphin felt the strange alien burrowing close, childlike. He looked up at T’Lon, now sitting across from him. She was just watching. The phaser scars on the right side of her face made her look older, and harder than she actually was.

“I couldn’t allow you to go on that way, Captain,” Dragomut said. Somehow, by engaging Dolphin’s nurturing instinct, the imoginette engineer had broken something loose in him. Something painful had found its way to the surface.

T’Lon was reading her captain’s emotions, but not understanding them. He barely understood himself where all this was coming from. “What is it, Kenny?”

“Hunter, display personal file, Starlight’s paintings, age 5,” Dolphin said.

A sequence of childish paintings was displayed on the large viewer on the wall next to the door that led to the captain’s office.

“Hold.” The sequence paused on a particularly lively, if quite obviously childish painting.

It took a few minutes for T’Lon to process this early example of an earnest child’s attempt at representation in paint. It just seemed like abstract art. Not very good abstract art. But there was a vague familiarity to the colorful, somewhat sloppy, blobby shapes.

“Venusians,” T’Lon said, finally.

“Starlight was in love with them – all that weird, impossible life on Venus,” Dolphin said. “River too. Life that was nearly impossible for us to detect through that bubbling cauldron of an atmosphere. It fired my imagination when I was a child. Starlight and River went on and on about it – just like most children – it was amazing and wonderful to them. A world they could never touch – only travel to in their imaginations. The people who destroyed that life – they reached into my daughters’ hearts and crushed a part of their childhood. Destroyed a piece of their souls. And it’s not just that.” Dolphin stopped to wipe tears from his eyes with his fingers. “River and Starlight were on the Hudson when those Earth First terrorists released all those bodies into the river. All those dead children floating in the Hudson River… Starlight and River were trying to rescue them…” Dolphin caught his breath.

“I need to be back on Earth. I need to be there for my daughters. And here I am on the furthest edge of the Federation facing an inquest because this greedy, hateful, ancient slug wearing the body of a spotted general wanted to slaughter its own kind…” He took a long, shaky breath, blinked back more tears. “It just feels like everything is falling apart… Minerva – whatever insanity has taken her from us... Vulcans killing one another in their own civil war…”

Dolphin looked down at the strange alien in his arms. “Dragomut… I thought you had come here because someone mistreated you – because you needed my help. You came here to help me, didn’t you?”

“Maybe every starship needs an imoginette on their crew,” mused T’Lon.

“Yeah, maybe,” Dolphin replied. “Or maybe we just got the special one.”

24.17 (of 19)​

 

Coming up soon - Jet Traxx addresses the reconstituted government of Trillus Prime... 24.18

And Captain Dolphin goes on a date... 24.19

 

Excellent chapter.

 

Another emotional plunge into the abyss. You are on a streak.


-Will

 

It's always darkest...

 

And quiet. Like a contemplative self-reflexion and a drink with a close friend and trusted advisor.

-Will

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 18: Jet Traxx

Author's Note: STH is replete with speeches, but I think Jet's address to the reconstituted Trill Senate is more of a sermon...​

24.18
Jet Traxx​

In addition to the Trill Senate Tower and the United Federation of Planets Administrative Center in the City of Laren Manev, both of which had been obliterated in the well-publicized attack by General Hialal Mulaax’s forces, the embassies of the Vulcan High Command, the Andorian Empire, the Cardassian Union, the Betazed Consulate, the Klingon Empire and the United Earth Governments had all been damaged beyond repair and were condemned. This left the historic Laren Manev Municipal Building, the Ferengi Commerce Authority and the Bajoran Temple as the only meeting halls sufficient to host a reconstruction conference.


Even though Traxx had been banned from taking another host by the priesthood, under trillian customs, the oldest joined symbiont had the right to convene any governing body of symbionts. These customs predated the priesthood by centuries and when Jet Traxx pressed her right, while it was bitterly opposed by the Symbiont Sanctuary priests, it was generally supported by joined trills in no small part out of curiosity about the legendary wild symbiont (and in no small amount out of resentment the symbionts harbored toward the priesthood.)


Jet and the Boel family, which seemed to unapologetically include Elaine Norman, had traveled to the U.S.S. Ark along with Captain Kenneth Dolphin and Lt. Grorher. The Ark was simply unimaginably large and the only part of it they visited was Ark Hospital Section 2.D., one of 16 sprawling medical facilities in Saucer Section 2, for 2nd Lt. Chrissiana Trei to perform reconstructive surgery on Jet’s nose and provide health checkups for the rest of Jet’s family and for Lt. Grorher.

The large, furry pilot took the opportunity to obtain a fresh, red uniform and wash the static and leaves out of his bushels of blonde hair. Elaine Norman also received much needed restorative surgery, removing the many battle scars and repairing damage to her side and her leg that she had sustained during the firefight on the Vulcan Weather Control station.


Several thousand people, not only trills, but representatives from other federation worlds, the Klingon Empire and the embattled Cardassian Union, were gathered in the balconies of the Bajoran Temple, where Jet Traxx had decided to hold the reconstruction meeting. Newly appointed senators, representing the municipal and regional governments across the planet, had seats on the floor. It was the first Trill Senate in centuries that actually resembled the populace. In addition to the trills most commonly seen offworld, were trills with spotting so light it was almost nonexistent and trills whose entire bodies were covered with large spots. Very few of these trills were joined to symbionts – which disqualified them from leadership positions.

Even these traditionally disadvantaged trills were stunned and let out a gasp when Jet Traxx entered the room and walked from the narthex to the chancel, flanked on her left by a human with curly blonde hair wearing a black Star Fleet uniform with the rank insignia of captain and on her right by an oddly handsome beast with carefully combed blonde tresses that completely covered the back of his red Star Fleet uniform, which bore the rank insignia of a first lieutenant.

It was not her honor guard of Star Fleet officers that caused the gasps of disbelief and startled looks.

Nor was it Jet’s evident immaturity and the uncomfortable looking bulge of the ancient symbiont in her dermal pouch that her gown could cover but not conceal.


It was her nose.


The reconstructive surgery had restored the bajoran nose ridges that were Jet’s birthright as a hybrid trill and bajoran.


As Captain Kenneth Dolphin and Lt. Grorher found seats at the rear of the chancel, Jet took her place on the chancel dais.


“What gives you the right to judge yourself unworthy of an exceptional life?

“What right do you have to hold yourself above the needs of your neighbors, above the needs of your family, above your own needs and instead to give in to the lifeless void that our universe seems to present to you nearly everywhere you look?

“What gives you the right to sigh and step aside from one moment of your potential?

“What gives you the right to drop your head into your hands and deny to the universe the gifts that the universe has gifted to you?”


“It is appropriate that we are met in this place, this temple to the Prophets of Bajor, for I am brought to you by Bajor. I am Jet Boel and I am of Bajor. My great grandmother was Kai Opaka Sulan and the prophets have watched over me since my birth. It is because I am of Trillus that I bear the Traxx symbiont. It is because I am of Bajor that the Traxx symbiont cannot dominate me. I am a child of the prophets. My pagh was pre-ordained. I am a child of destiny.

“But look behind me and you will see two men who stood alone in front of the Sanctuary of the Symbionts and turned back an army. Are these not children of destiny as well? How else could they have had the courage to stand, only the two of them, against our mighty army and turn that army back?

“Now look to the balcony. There stands Elaine Norman who alone and without weapons or any special training attacked eight armed men, receiving severe phaser burns and yet she persevered and won and had she not, we would not be meeting in this place, having narrowly survived the greatest threat to our way of life, to our democratic institutions since their inception. Surely Elaine is a child of destiny.

“But you are a child of destiny as well. Think back on how close you have come to being killed – on how many occasions. Think back on the odd twists and turns of fate that brought you to this place to hear what one whom you perceive to be a child, thinks.”


“I am a child and I think like a child. I am only 15 years old. But I lived six lifetimes before this one, six lifetimes before I met Traxx. And Traxx is more than two thousand years old – the oldest symbiont – the oldest of the wild ones. And within me, Traxx is given a new life, reborn, the wildness neither contained nor cured, but transformed.

“You should be wondering why I am not calling you to work together to rebuild our culture. To rebuild our city. To rebuild our civilization. That is the message you came here thinking that you needed to hear – me calling you to work with your neighbor.”


“But you already know that. I did not step up here to tell you what you already know. I came to tell you what you need to know. So let me tell you something about destiny.

“Everything happens for a reason. You hear people say it all the time. And it is true. Everything happens for a reason.

“But you will never know what that reason is. Not that it matters. It was a stupid reason anyway and it had nothing to do with you, your wealth or your happiness. As far as you are concerned, it might as well have been random chance…

“Except for this: You were born. You live. Every second of this life you have been granted is a miracle beyond words and you must treat it as such. And see it as such in the eyes of other living beings – that their lives are just as miraculous.

“Burn this astonishing truth into your mind. Write it indelibly on your soul: Every moment of your life is a miracle.

“Do not waste a single moment. Not one. Give everything you are to this life. This is what these times call for. This is what our people need. This is what destiny requires of you: Everything.”


“For destiny will ultimately take everything away from you. Whether you choose to give it or not.”

24.18 (of19)​

 

I enjoyed reading it.

 

Digging deeper and deeper into philosophy. I love it.

Epistemology: how do we know truth or illusion or its importance.

Metaphysics: the fundamental nature of our universe, substance, causes, consequences.

Ethics: what should we do; what can we do; what will we do?

Wake up.
PAY ATTENTION!

That is the only possible truth to answer with.

-Will

 

STH is very much a philosophical tome. Which is why my main character is a controversial, published philosopher.

Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 19: Red, Flowers and Wine

24.19
Red, Flowers and Wine​

“Hello Citizen Dolphin, you are completely dressed out to the yardarms, yes?” Rear Admiral Serge Mykel Chekov was smirking at Dolphin from a viewscreen in a small, secure communications compartment aboard the U.S.S. Ark.


Dolphin was wearing the brown pinstriped suit given to him by then Governor Emory Ivonovic. The white shirt was buttoned to the top collar and a beautifully detailed collar clasp made from tiny, stained-glass beads (which had long ago replaced the necktie as a formal accessory for formal suits on formal occasions) glittered with blue and aquamarine colors where it joined and peeked out from under his shirt collar.


“It appears one of my officers has arranged a date for me – or facilitated such an arrangement,” Dolphin replied. “But I have a few minutes before I am scheduled for this mysterious rendezvous…”

“I just wanted to call to let you know that I really hate you,” Chekov smiled. “So you stood alone in front of the Symbiont Sanctuary and faced down a trill army?”

“That was the plan,” Dolphin replied. “However there was a Star Fleet lieutenant who happened to be there when I got there. Big furry fellow. Carrying a plasma cannon on his shoulder, no less. It was just a little less spooky with him there by my side.”

“Well, I have to inform you that I will be one of the officers at your inquest,” said Chekov.

“Then we run the risk of this being ex-parte communication,” Dolphin responded.

“I just thought you might be amused to know that there are rumors of a lone Star Fleet captain staring down an army of 50,000 trills until he could see the spots on their necks – that’s the way the klingons are telling the story…” Chekov chuckled.

Dolphin rolled his eyes. “Great,” he muttered. “Just what I need. Glory-hungry klingons after my scalp.”

“Such price fame, yes?” Chekov rejoined. “I just thought that would brighten up your day. And you should know that I have a very cold bottle of very high quality vodka waiting in my cabin for the next time we are in the same parsec. Oh and Kenny…”

“Yes Rear Admiral?”

“Do not say the word ‘love’ tonight unless you are talking about how the chef prepared your fish…”

“Roger Willco Serge,” Dolphin replied with a salute.

“Don’t salute when you’re wearing civvies, Kenny. Enjoy your mystery date!”

“Thank you sir… Good night Serge Mykel.”


Dolphin stepped out of the communication box – one in a bank of a few dozen available on this part of the beach for passengers aboard the Ark who did not have formal quarters – beach bums. He was not on one of the four gargantuan saucer sections, but aboard the main engineering hull itself. Each of the saucer sections had room for a small ocean among other environments.

The beach Dolphin was standing on was one edge of a much larger ocean carried inside the engineering section - an ocean teaming with life. Sailboats could be seen out to sea. Surfers rode the waves closer to the beach. And here along the beach were hundreds of stores, shops, restaurants – as there were on the other shore on the other end of the engineering section.

The U.S.S. Ark was humanity’s first attempt to do what the romulans had been doing for nearly a half-century - preserving and growing living planetary environments inside massive space vessels. Only the Ark was designed to do something more – to transplant entire environments from doomed planets onto new worlds where that life might have a future. It was an almost unimaginable triumph of technology and collective action. Destroying life was easy – could be done entirely accidentally. Preserving life took an effort.


Dolphin’s eyes strayed across an exceptionally beautiful, dark-skinned Persian woman wearing an elegant red evening gown. He laughed and bowed gallantly. “Captain Red… are you whom I was summoned here to meet?”

From behind her back, Red produced a small bouquet of red roses. “You are such a woman, Dolphin…” She handed him the bouquet, which he took with no small amount of confusion and looked at strangely. “Fortunately, I like women…”

“Well, you have me completely flabbergasted,” Dolphin replied, looking at her, then at the bouquet of roses she had just handed him. He was holding them rather tentatively, as if she had just given him a handful of squirming ferrets.

Red gave him an exasperated look. “Those are for our table. You really are quite bad at this dating business, aren’t you?” She held out her hand.

It took a few heartbeats for Dolphin to realize she meant for him to take her hand. He let her lead him by the hand to one of the nicer restaurants along the shore and a bolian waiter brought a vase for him to place the roses in. “I… I’m not really certain, but I think this might be the first formal date I’ve actually been on,” Dolphin said. “Aside from high school homecoming, that is.”

“Well, our last time together…” Red started. “I guess something went wrong. You’ve been cold fish to me ever since…”

“Well, no, I mean,” Dolphin stammered, “It was amazing, intense… more than a little scary. Nothing short of mind-blowing. But… you know… you can be quite scary…”

“You seemed to like it at the time…”

“What’s not to like?” Dolphin looked down, took a deep breath. “You know, but, my life is rather full of intense and scary… I guess I just felt a little… overloaded?”

“That’s why we’re starting with wine this time,” said Red. The bolian waiter appeared on cue.

The waiter displayed a bottle that had recently been uncorked - turning it so his guests could see the label: “A rich, dusky, and rather mellow merlot from the vineyards of California should be comfortable to the New England palate…” He poured the wine.

Dolphin was completely ignorant about wine, but he had to admit the waiter had made a decent choice.


“Okay, so we’re kind of starting from scratch, but not quite,” Dolphin said. “I have a personal question – a very personal question I’ve been dying to ask you…”

“Only for you,” Red replied. “If I answer, you must keep the answer strictly to yourself. Not even your scar-faced vulcan friend…”

“Fair enough,” Dolphin replied. “So I was told that you changed your name to Red in protest when you were seven years old...” he paused, looked down, then looked up again into her eyes. “What were you protesting?”

Red started laughing. She rolled her head back, eyes closed, a merry sound. “Okay - almost no one knows this… You know I was born in Iran…”

“Yes… You’re Persian…”

“Not entirely. My father is Egyptian. And he gave me a typical Egyptian name, which is a boxcar list of every female ancestor for whom a name is on record. My given name was more than 50 words long, more than half of which would be a nightmare for anyone to pronounce. After they tried to teach me my name for the – I don’t know – millionth time I just lost my temper and put my tiny, seven-year-old foot down and informed them my name is Red…”

24 – A Trillian Problem

​

This is the final scene for Episode 24.

The adventure continues in Episode 25: I Dream of Shiva.​

 

Awesome finish to an excellent episode.

I Dream of Shiva and space reminds me of a certain TV show

 

Red for passion. Red for sanguine. Red for STOP, look, and listen.
We really like Red.

 

ha ha ha. Rbs's episodes are like Ginsu Knives...

Never dull and... wait, there's more.

-Will

 

Thanks for the kind words! And the cutlery...

The thread for Episode 25 is now initiated. Thanks!! rbs