It's a good bumper sticker too!
Legends of the Phoenix
- Thread starter Hawku
- Start date
Author's notes: This was written as part of the Trek BBS March/April 2024 Challenge and takes place in 2393, continuing after my time-reset from "Celestial Dynamics, Part III". Cetacean Ops was last seen in "Missed the Mishap". A Delphine appeared in the TNG novel "Dark Mirror".
March/April 2024 Challenge: Wet and Wild.
March/April 2024 Challenge: Wet and Wild.
Trek BBS: March/April 2024 Challenge
"Wet and Wild: Cetacean Observations"
The Prometheus-class U.S.S. Phoenix-X trekked blissfully through the vacuous, suck-filled realm of non-pushy-air space. Commander Seifer took the command chair where the cyber-implant-infested Ferengi BOB stood next to.
"So, can I go back to my own time in the future yet? I'm getting a temporal displacement rash," BOB carped. "Even the Borg self-produced analgesic cream."
Seifer waved it off. "Not until you tell me all the lottery numbers from every money-based planet within a ten-lightyear radius. I'm really into money this week. Everyone, you are to expect a paycheque on Friday. Bonuses pending."
"Commander, my self-configuring door experiment is ready to begin practical testing," reported Lieutenant Briggs as he switched to a nearby console. "By this time tomorrow, we should all have automated French door entranceways."
But Lieutenant Commander Armond entered the Bridge with his own PADD and business splayed across it. "Belay that. I've returned to the Phoenix-X, per rotation, to run an extra system diagnostic on top of the one that's already running. Can't have too many, is what I always say."
"What? But redundancy always leads to self-awareness? It's the computational absolution of too-much-AI!" Briggs protested to a halting palm.
Seifer reassured, "Armond's installed anti-sentience subroutines, so we never have a Discovery situation. Why don't you check on the underwater watering experiment in Cetacean Ops for now? The fact we discovered different consistencies of pure, unmixed water in the future is just so fascinating."
---
Briggs approached the non-French windowed door of Cetacean Ops to find the usually fully submerged room draining and reconfiguring into a pool/deck set up.
"This room has an air variant? Seems oppressive to me," the man said as he entered to find Lieutenant Commander Veker working at a console and the Delphine officer, Lieutenant Whui, poking his head out of the pool. "Also, sorry about us land-lubbers being the dominating operators of starships in general."
Whui swam around before acknowledging him. "No apologies required! I receive an excess allocation of ship's resources as compensation for the inherent social disparities and strifes therein."
"It's why I come here to run my science simulations," Veker admitted as he worked. "This latest one will model how many multiverses there are, and if those multiverses are contained within even more multiverses. So, like a Russian doll thing."
The Operations officer approached with an alert coming off his PADD. "Actually, it looks like Armond's double system diagnostic is triggering my self-configuring door program. In fact, it's enabling front-door access to several Phoenix-X systems!"
"Uggh. That old crew always gets preferential treatment," Veker complained as he let Briggs join him and they both switched the interface. "Did you know that Ensign Dan once bud in front of me at the replicator? Luckily any one of us can relieve him of duty for any length of time we see fit."
Suddenly, the door to Cetacean Ops clicked locked and the pool water began to overflow and rise. "Oh, dear. The room is reconfiguring without cause," Whui observed. "Can any of you breathe underwater?"
"It's a malfunction. It's not shutting down!" Veker reported as they worked and the water was at their ankles. "Yes, us Kelpiens are adept at land and water, but it normally takes our kind hours to change clothes. A wet Starfleet uniform is a prolonged form of torture."
Briggs tried disengaging the system to no avail as the pool reached their waists. "Yeah, and I'm a Silver Blood. If I'm in water for too long, I'll involuntarily become water. It's why I stopped drinking prune juice."
"Is it wrong that I want to see those two things happen? Also, do you become the prune juice?" Whui inquired after coming up from his submerged console. "Oh, and transporters and communications are down."
The Silver Blood shook his head as the water was now at their chests. "This is my fault for having an obsession with the French. Like, why do almost all of them now have British accents? I cut far too many corners thinking their type of doors would gain me architectural-linguistic insight."
"Your curiosity is not a failure, but a strength," Veker assured as everyone was now wading underwater. "It is because of this, we have come to appreciate Cetacean Ops for its reclusive, but advantageous wet station."
Briggs looked around. "Oh! We can talk underwater. That's great. Probably the random consistency thing mentioned earlier. Of course! We can shift the hard water into the locking mechanism and twist it open."
"It's true. We dolphin-like species still require mechanically 19th century-type entrance ways for ease of minds-sakes," Whui admitted. "You never know when a large copper-diving helmeted Jacques Cousteau will come clanging on our thick, brass doors, expecting an old school explorative visit."
Nodding to that, all three then went over to the door and used their appendages to relocate and form the water in a way that would begin rotating the physical locking mechanism. Suddenly, the door opened and all the water spilled out into the corridors!
"So, is everything going to be okay?" Whui asked as he lept into his pool and Briggs checked his PADD.
Tapping it, he discovered, "Yeah. My software decompiled and all systems are back to normal. Maybe the lesson here is: When in doubt, just go for a swim."
"Speak for yourself!" Veker complained while surveying his soaked Starfleet uniform. "I need to call my two handmaidens off their social-insurrection planning to help me out of this thing. Also, Starfleet employs handmaidens for Kelpiens in the 24th century."
Suddenly, Seifer stopped in his walk-by tracks when he noticed the soaking hallway he was stepping in. "Ugh. Did you guys have a side-thing while I was on the Bridge? Did I not order everyone into suspended, uneventful states when I am not in the room? It's to cut down on episodic situational dramas."
He looked at their blinking, blank stares.
"Oh, never mind. It's fine. I just wish I hadn't banned towels from the ship after that fencing craze had everyone wearing them around their necks for fashion," Seifer admitted. "Sooo pretentious. Anyway, carry on."
After he left, Briggs snapped his fingers. "That's right. We dry ourselves with de-poisoned retlaw plants now." He opened a nearby hatch, pulled out a purple, fuzzy ball and began dabbing it against his uniform. "Be careful, though. Too much water re-enables their toxicity."
"Very well," Veker replied as he got his own and followed suit. "This swimming thing may not be so bad after all, from a scientific study point of view. The containment is not unlike being contained in a multiverse. I will schedule pool time from now on. Pool time for everyone!"
Briggs nodded as they continued. "Also, door stuff." This was to be the start of a beautiful aquatic course of study.
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a bit of a dig at Jon-Luc...
For this reason, the number of virtual universes vast outnumber any really universes. Therefore, statistically, it is most likely that we inhabit one of the infinity of artificial universes as opposed to a real one....",
Thanks !! rbs
An infinite number of virtual universes and this is the one I stubbed my toe in.
An infinite number of virtual universes and this is the one I stubbed my toe in.
We generally live in the illusion of being some sort of spirit driving a homunculus - with our actual being existing just behind our eyes, manipulating our body as if driving a car. This illusion is shattered every time you stub your toe. In that moment, you are nothing more than a giant stubbed toe. Thus, in this universe, you were offered the opportunity for enlightenment via epiphany.
For sure! All wake-up calls should be welcomed in the form of banging one's head off a low-ceiling or, the ultimate method, stepping on legos.
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They all are. Didn't you know?
Author's notes: This was my second entry into the Ad Astra weekly challenges. It continues in the year 2393. Wyn Tressa was last seen in command of the R.R.W. Tetreya in 2410, in ULC51, having a similar exchange. This was written in April 2024.
Weekly Challenge #41: Cultural Exchanges: The Trekiverse is a wide and complicated place. So, your job is to write between 100 and 700 words on the themes of cultural exchanges. Are we talking a dinner with two alien species exchanging dishes? Are we talking about exchanging bombs? The sky's the limit! When done, post it under the weekly challenges with the tag: Weekly Challenge: Cultural Exchanges. This challenge ends on 4/5 at 11:59P.
Ad Astra: Weekly Challenge #41
"Cultural Exchanges"
Out, in the endless cold of vast, empty space, the Prometheus-class U.S.S. Phoenix-X was rendezvoused with the Vor'cha-class I.K.S. B'Cnah and the Mogai-class I.R.W. Ketaryn. The three commanding officers from each ship, Seifer, Menchez and Heike Tressa sat at a dinner table in the Phoenix-X's Briefing Room.
"Is this really necessary, Commander?" Tressa squinted at her kali-soup, gagh and pizza dish. "These foods barely even go together."
Seifer was already eating, happily. "Oh, you'll love it. Besides, it's high time the three of us had a meal together. All the adventures we've been on? It's worthy of story and song!"
"Yes, but separately," Captain Menchez added while examining his pizza. "Klingons and Romulans famously do not get along. There's a whole play about it on Qo'noS. The Klingons end up tearing the heads off their Romulan guests."
Tressa blinked. "Seriously? We have the same play in the Romulan Free State. Only, instead of decapitations, the Klingons get so subterfuged, they rip their own heads off."
"Huh. I'm impressed! Disturbed, but impressed," the Klingon Menchez reacted before dropping the gagh into his kali-soup and going for it. "Besides, since the destruction of your home world, the Klingons have been going easy on Romulan relations. We are a ruthless race, but sometimes do practice sympathy."
Commander Tressa gave the pizza a chance. "Very Rikery. Also, if you don't mind my saying, I would have thought our vulnerable state the perfect time for the Klingons to strike."
"Alas, internal quibbling between Klingon houses has stunted that notion," Menchez admitted. "But we'd totally be down for it. The blood spill alone would command great satisfaction."
Seifer pondered. "Kicking an enemy while they're down? Very Kruge, Captain. Also, I'm trying to think if the Federation has any decapitation fantasies? Oh! The children's book, Alice in Wonderland, was all about head lopping."
"Yaarrhh!!" Suddenly, an 8-year-old Romulan girl broke out of a nearby ceiling vent and landed on Seifer's shoulders, holding a tan qalanq sword to his throat. "Your head will roll in the name of the Empire!"
The Starfleet officer chortled. "Pfft! We Trill can grow them back. Oh, wait. I'm thinking of the Gorn. No, we can't."
"Wyn! Stop this at once!" Tressa stood in searing anger. "Commander, I'm so sorry. But with the destruction of Romulus, it's impossible to find a babysitter for your children. This is my daughter, Wyn."
Menchez then broke out in surprise. "Hah! Are you kidding me! This absolves any misgivings I had about your people, Commander Tressa. You are warriors at heart."
"Okay, but the girl, though?" Seifer pointed to the blade at his throat and the blazing glare she was focusing from behind his head. "I think I see blood."
The Klingon got up and slapped Tressa on her back. "This cannot wait! Come, Romulan. To the holodeck, to watch each other's plays. We'll even throw in those card solders from Alice in Wonderland. Mix it up!" The two officers then left, much to Seifer's chagrin.
"Sooo, you want to try some kali ice cream? It's insanely bland, but we can spice it up with gagh topping," Seifer offered to the little girl who pressed the sharp edge to his throat. She then nodded, prompting the Commander to get up with her to the replicator.
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Kudos for managing a swipe at the Handmaiden's Tale in a wet-n-wild story... And this story did shoot some pool...
Thanks!! rbs
Haha, thanks! Also wanted to call out what I imagine is a long costume change for Doug Jones.
Author's notes: Thought it might be fun to supplement this thread with some comics. My past comics can be found in "Phoenix Meltdown".
"Bridgey-boo"
In this comic: Commander Night Seifer, BOB
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Big fan of the cartoon! it would be tremendous if you could post a small segment like this with your stories. Helps orient into your peculiar trekverse...
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks!! rbs
Thanks! They're fun to do. Will drop a new comic here and there.
Author's notes: This was my third entry into the Ad Astra weekly challenges. It continues in the year 2393. Whui was last seen in "Cetacean Observations" and was included here because the challenge writer offered bonus points for it. This was written in April 2024.
Weekly Challenge #42: The Dolphins Were Right: So, if you're a sci-fi geek (and what are you doing here if you aren't?), then you know the answer to Life, the Universe and Everything is 42. Except-- no one knows the question. So, your challenge this time around is to have your characters or whomever searching for the meaning of life, the universe and everything! It can be as hilarious or wrenching as you like, and you can interpret the prompt as liberally or strictly as you want. Extra bonus to whomever manages to work Cetacean Ops into it. When you post it, add it to the collection and tag it with Weekly Challenge: The Dolphins Were Right. This challenge ends on 4/12 at 11:59P Eastern!
Ad Astra: Weekly Challenge #42
"The Dolphins Were Right"
Out, in the endless reach of outer spacey-space, the Prometheus-class U.S.S. Phoenix-X stretched, despondently and humbly through the far reaches of nothingness. Commander Seifer stood alone in a cold Conference room, staring out at the empty Class-2 shuttle Dracon.
"Everything okay, Commander?" came BOB's voice from behind, as the Ferengi and special counselor entered.
Seifer kept his gaze at the arbitrary shuttle. "What's the point of all this, Mr. BOB? We search and seek out the limits of our Universe, engage with action-packed aliens, only to destroy the Enterprise for the umpteenth time and for what? The joys of canonical existence?"
"Well, we did choose life during the insemination process through the conception by our parents," BOB offered as he took a spot next to him and stared out as well. "It's almost as if we were compelled to be here by the very nature of what we are to begin with: Randoms."
The Commander gestured. "Sure, but freewill only begins with sentience, and there's no way said cognition wanted a Universe of poorly lit Bridges, serialized drama, Section 31 badges and constant back-and-forth Archer pacing?"
"You're focusing on the negative," BOB countered. "What about the Data cakes, the Sisko-Garak Romulan wackiness and the Seven of Nine of it all? Those were good times recorded in 4:3 standard definition logs."
Sefier shook his head in reminiscence. "Certainly, yes. Even the Picard-Insurrecting-to-Shinzoning, I could put up with. But doesn't it all seem so randomly salamander?"
"That's the beauty of it, Commander," BOB pressed. "It can be anything it wants to be and make us a part of it. Janeway-macrovirusing to hop-scotch Chula-verses to the incorruptible legends of the U.S.S. Cerritos."
All of a sudden, the doorbell beeped off and upon opening, a massive wave of water flushed into the Conference room, quickly pooling up to their knees, followed by a Delphine Starfleet officer swimming in to them.
"Oh, Lieutenant Whui," Seifer turned in observation. "You didn't have to come up all the way here from Cetacean Operations? A comm-call would have been fine."
Whui wiggled his way to a posture within the shallow water. "I just needed some fresh air. Being cooped up, charting space in that one submerged room can really get to you sometimes. Anyway, now that my course is set, we are ready to launch the Dracon into our Warp 10 maddening experiment."
"Seems redundant, considering Tom Paris does this to all his Captains, but it would be interesting to see the results of a non-manned vessel doing it," Seifer suggested. "Let's do it. Engage."
Suddenly, the Dracon revved up its engines and shot itself out into space, occupying all points in the Universe at once before returning as a giant cake.
"Fascinating!" BOB declared in shared, wide-eyed shock. "By being everywhere all at once, it somehow enveloped infinite probability and became the most random thing possible. A cake!"
Whui gaped as well. "It looks delicious. The purple must be the result of not having a sentient being to absorb the nonsensical salamandering effects of what some people mistake for evolution."
"I don't think the Progenitors knew what evolution was either, but this arbitrary concoction proves the Universe means anything. Everything. It's up to interpretation and has no obligation to make sense to anyone," Seifer surmised. "Thank you, both."
BOB somehow had already replicated a fork and knife. "So, can we try it?"
"If its antimatter waste composition is below 30%, then yes," the Commander reassured as the giant shuttle-sized cake was now being tractor-beamed into the Phoenix-X. "Whui, are you coming?"
The dolphin-like alien perked up. "Hell, yes! Computer, fill the corridors leading to the shuttle bay, please." After an acknowledgment tone, the sounds of crashing waves and screaming officers could then be heard from outside the doors.
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Endless fun with cetacean ops.. Thanks!! rbs
Yeah! I'm actually enjoying including him in my entries. Something different.
Author's notes: This was my fourth entry into the Ad Astra weekly challenges and third for this month. This was written in April 2024.
Weekly Challenge #43: Smell the Roses: As Spring settles in properly in the northern hemisphere, green is growing, flowers are blooming and allergies are driving everyone fucking bonkers. Your job, should you choose to accept it, is to write between 100 and 700 words on the theme of taking the time to smell the roses. The literal roses? The metaphorical ones? It doesn't matter, interpret as liberally or strictly as you like. When you add it to the archive's collection, tag it Weekly Challenge: Smell the Roses. This challenge ends 4/19 at 11:59PM.
Ad Astra: Weekly Challenge #43
"Smell the Roses"
The Prometheus-class U.S.S. Phoenix-X moved gracefully through the distant reaches of nowhere in particular. Lieutenant Elly walked into Sickbay where Doctor Xyrenia was preoccupied with spraying some roses.
"Hey, Doc. How's it going? I just got sucker punched in a fighting match with Lieutenant Commander Tong," Elly reported as she sat herself on a nearby biobed.
Xyrenia stopped her spritzing and began scanning the Orion. "I'm good, and you know you're the only one willing to fight that man? A man with the highest Esper rating we've ever seen?"
"Ugh. I just cannot sit around and do nothing all the time," Elly complained. "I need some fast-paced action. Besides, he said he was going to go easy on me. That is, until something caused him to fluctuate. Avast, it's likely my shouting of pirate-y jargon at him. Bloody landlubbers."
The head-of-hair-sprouting Deltan sighed as she began a dermal regenerator. "The complacency, I can relate to. When Doctor Lox left for other postings, he charged me with prioritizing care of his mutant plants. If the Commander wasn't constantly recalling his old crew back for one-off missions, I'd just burn these monstrosities in a fire-driven cackle of evil."
"The Chameleon and Felaran rose crossbreeds? Yeah, you definitely don't want to overwater those. The first sign is excessive pollination throughout the ship," Elly commented before realizing. "Wait. Tong? That's what caused him to fluctuate!"
All of a sudden, the stretch of roses began moving and growing on their own! One opened up like a flytrap and grabbed the foot of Nurse Fig as he was walking by and held him upside down. "Ahh! I just wanted to discuss the breeze in the new male nurse gowns!"
"Oh, shit. This is my fault for indulging a repulsatory mindset in place of careful watering techniques," Xyrenia said while pressing her nose bridge and all the roses began growing out into the corridors to attack more crew. "I'm a terrible Deltan. I should have been unnecessarily over-sexual about it or something."
Elly got to her feet. "There is nothing you should apologize for. Just because you chose to medically grow your own hair, does not make you any less of a Deltan. Like me, we just need to stop and appreciate things better."
"You're right," Xyrenia calmed. "Part of life is accepting who you have always been. In my case, a woman with a luxurious head of hair anyone would be jealous of. Do you want to help me cut the necks off these awful plants?"
The Orion shrugged. "If that's what you want. But what would the Deltan-real-you do?"
"Hmm," the Doctor stopped for a moment to consider. "I'd lighten up these awkward creatures with mates of their own. Come! We'll overwater some new seedlings and talk about uniform skants."
Nodding, the two women grabbed trays of soil and embedded new crossbreed roses before overwatering them right away. The appalling flooding of the soil then caused accelerated growth of new roses, which became as large as the others until breaking out into the corridors as well to engage with the first generation of roses.
"Aahh! They're mating or something!? It's so repulsive!" came the shocked yell of Lieutenant Briggs from out in the hallway.
Now, with the threat to the crew over, both Elly and Xyrenia turned to each other in relief. "Thank you for your help, Lieutenant. Perhaps these terrible things aren't so bad after all. They should be free to roam the ship at will."
"You see? You're more Deltan than you think. Also, I'm the Chief of Security, so I can okay this in support of our bonding," Elly reassured as she forced a buddy-buddy arm over Xyrenia's shoulders. "Shiver me timbers, Doc. Shiver me timbers."
Meanwhile, out in the hallway, several officers unexpectedly tripped over the sexual transactions between the group of roses. "No! Noooo!"
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Maybe it was the roses that needed to stop and smell the Deltan... Thanks!! rbs
True! Deltans are great this time of year.
Author's notes: Had to do another one and draw my Kelpien officer. He was last seen in "The Dolphins Were Right".
"Yeah, Science!"
In this comic: Commander Night Seifer, Lieutenant Commander Veker
