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Star Beagle Adventures Episode 2: Astral Traveller

Robert Bruce Scott

Commodore
Commodore
Continued from: Star Beagle Adventures Episode 1: The Eye of the Beholder

Summary:
The Beagle task group docks at Deep Space 9, awaiting individual assignments.

A mysterious entity communicates with persons aboard each of the 3 ships, guiding them to an abandoned Cardassian space station.

Ezri Dax finds her counseling abilities tested in an interesting way.​


Notes:
Throughout this episode, snippets of lyrics are quoted. These are from two songs: "Astral Traveler" by Dave Hewson, which appeared as track 7 on Time and a Word, the 2nd album by the progressive rock band, YES, 1970, Atlantic Records; and from "Yours Is No Disgrace" by Jon Anderson, Chris Squire, Steve Howe, Bill Bruford, and Tony Kaye, which first appeared as track 1 on The Yes Album, the third album by YES, 1971, Atlantic Records.


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The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 1: Organ Chord Voice


2.1
Organ Chord Voice


Trader Pel panicked. The tiny ferengi was without clothes. Without disguise. Without cover. Also, it appeared, without skin. Naked, directly in the line of sight of… Something… Not a human… the eyes were too big. It didn’t have skin either. Pel couldn’t even tell if it was male or female. Just a figure, pulsating with inner light - orange, blue, yellow, purple…

Which is how the ferengi must have appeared to it as well. Neither male nor female. A vaguely humanoid shape pulsing with light.

Was it speaking? Every time it opened its mouth, the sound was like an organ - rich, majestic, Every word a chord. They were standing inside a room-sized wicker basket woven with strands of orange and blue light. The light-man spoke more loudly as a flame burst up between them. Organ chord words. None of them made sense. But among them, something sounded familiar. Two words.

The glowing being with the organ chord voice noticed that Pel found those words familiar and repeated them: “…Nor…”

A roaring flame between Pel and Organ Chord Voice leapt up, obscuring Organ Chord Voice’s further attempts at communication. Organ Chord Voice cried out more loudly, but could not compete with the flame.

Oddly, Pel couldn’t feel the heat. To the tiny ferengi’s left, a mass of some sort of fabric started to rise… inflating… Pel noticed for the first time that the flame was roaring up into a huge ring above, to which the fabric was attached, causing the fabric to slowly expand, lifting it off the ground…

At the same time, machines in the background all around and above - outlined in various hues of blue light - were operating - cogs turning - levers moving - spheres rotating…


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2.1
Star Beagle Adventures on Trek BBS:

Episode 1: The Eye of the Beholder
Episode 2: Astral Traveller (you are here)
Episode 3: Yours is no Disgrace
Episode 4: Starship Trooper

Episode 5: All Good People
Episode 6: Perpetual Change
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Episode 8: South Side of the Sky
Episode 9: Long Distance Runaround
Episode 10: Schindler's Fish
Episode 11: Heart of the Sunrise
Episode 12: Close to the Edge part I - The Solid Time of Change
Episode 13: Close to the Edge part II - Total Mass Retain
Episode 14: Close to the Edge part III - I Get Up, I Get Down (now in drafting)
Episode 15: Close to the Edge part IV - Seasons of Man (projected)​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2 : Astral Traveller
Scene 2: Nor

And in the ruins of the balloon
Stood a man with glasses held high…

2.2
Nor

Pel woke in a panic. This wasn’t his bed in his small guest quarters aboard the U.S.S. Mako. This bed was in the far from private medical center aboard the U.S.S. Beagle. He disciplined himself not to touch his ears - the instinct was so strong that his arms ached and he was afraid the sudden movement would give his fear away. Miraculously, he could hear that someone had attended to this issue. He desperately wanted to check the application, but that would have to wait.

At this moment, the minuscule ferengi was the center of attention - exactly the last thing he ever wanted to be.

Captain Rhonda Carter of the U.S.S. Escort was still recuperating from radiation poisoning, as was General Krank. The radiation of a phaser set to kill had affected each of them differently. Krank had picked up a nervous twitch. Carter had lost her long, brown hair, which was now replaced with a thin brush of iron gray. Both looked emaciated, as they could not keep much food down at any time.

Captain Skip Howard and the disturbingly beautiful vulcan, Senek, were seated next to each other on another bed, watching a few of Dr. Uto’s medical staff worrying over Pel and Carter.

Pel waived off the doctors impatiently and sat up.

“Well, you’re awake,” said Skip Howard with his irrepressible smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Why am I here?” Pel asked.

“Your vital signs dropped to near death levels during the night, causing the Mako’s internal security system to register a medical alert,” answered one of the betazoid doctors. Pel read the name on the surgical tunic - Mistroya Utru.

“You’re not the only one,” Captain Howard added. “Captain Carter was affected, as was her chief engineer on the Escort, Lieutenant Kresid. One person on each ship. Was something trying to communicate with you?”

Now that he was sitting up, Pel could see a roylan - much smaller than himself - propped up on a bed behind General Krank. Pel took the opportunity to casually stroke his own ears, checking the seams. Perfection. Skip Howard winked at him.

“Yes,” said Pel. “I could only make out one word: ‘Nor.’ I don’t know what it means.”


2.2​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 3: Patches

Wondering where lights go
Leave out the body load

2.3
Patches


The task force, consisting of the U.S.S. Mako, under the command of Captain Yui Song, the U.S.S. Beagle, under the command of Captain Skip Howard, and the U.S.S. Escort, under the temporary command of Lt. Cmdr. Vranran zh’Kathar (whose captain, Rhonda Carter, was still aboard the Beagle, recovering from a phaser wound), was headed toward the Deep Space 9 space station.

The rescued trill miners, following extensive decontamination in the Beagle’s medical center, had been removed to the Mako under security and were confined to quarters. They were to be handed over to Star Fleet security at DS9, there to await transport to their homeworld for trial.


Project Manager Kiasias Tidun was being interviewed by Captain Yui Song of the U.S.S. Mako in her captain’s lounge. Lt. Cmdr. Senek, the U.S.S. Beagle’s science officer, was also present. Tidun could barely keep her eyes off the gorgeous vulcan.

Senek’s mournful expression made it eloquently clear that he was well aware that at the moment he was a useful interrogation tool, his simple presence distracting the trill project director and bringing down her defenses.

“I was given the commission by Market Director Sala Vax,” Tidun said, in answer to Captain Yui. “He negotiated it with a ferengi merchant shipmaster named Dalt.”

“Did he look anything like this?” Lt. Cmdr. Senek pressed a control on his tricorder and the image of a ferengi was projected.

“I never saw Daimon Dalt,” Tidun replied. She tore her eyes away from Senek long enough to look at the image. “But I do know this one. That is Blik. He was our guide. He had hired a klingon ship for safety. Apparently several ferengi factions had competing claims on the planet. They were hiring us with the intent that we were to get there and establish mining operations first. Blik and his klingon ship cleared the way for us.”

“And what was so valuable that you would risk your crew, Federation treaty law and Ferengi Alliance space to stake that claim?” Captain Yui asked.

“We were told that the system was rich in dilithium, bauxite, strontium, but most importantly, a trove of bio-generated information processing nodules,” Tidun responded. “Mushrooms.” She closed her eyes and shuddered. “We plugged them into the computer and they learned the computer. Then we found out they could move on their own - travel through subspace. Then they started taking over crew members... I realized what a threat they were and initiated self-destruct… I don’t remember much after that - just flashes - until waking up in the medical center on that other ship. Even since then to now… everything’s really patchy. I remember the room with the others, but I don’t remember how I got from there into this room.”


2.3
Notes from August, 2023:

For some reason, this story is starting to tumble out of my word processor. Like Star Trek Hunter, the first episode was a little wonky, but I'm starting to get a feel for these people and hopefully the rest of this episode will start to reach the quality I feel I achieved with Star Trek Hunter.

Thanks for reading!! rbs
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 4: Doppler Tunneling

Somewhere flying high...

2.4
Doppler Tunnelling

Dr. Tentis Uto had summoned his captain and his three patients to the medical conference room aboard the U.S.S. Beagle. Pel, the minuscule ferengi trader and disgraced former F.C.A. agent, the even smaller roylan chief engineer for the U.S.S. Escort, Lt. Ki Kresid, and Escort’s captain, who had been once again recuperating in the Beagle’s medical center, had joined Captain Skip Howard for this conference. General Krank was uninvited, but considering that he rarely left Captain Rhonda Carter’s side, his presence was pretty much inevitable.

Commander Dutch Holland and his wife, Sakura, the Dean of the Ship, were also present.

“At the same moment that your patients’ life signs plummeted to next to zero, we were running an experiment in engineering with the doppler tunneling… ooofff…” The engineering director’s explanation was cut short by a sharp, Japanese elbow to his ribs.

“As my husband was explaining,” Sakura Nakamura Holland continued, “we were running a classified experiment in engineering with classified equipment and, as he was no doubt about to explain, we received some very unexpected readings that occurred at the exact moment that the anomalous health readings were recorded for all three of your patients. Considering the nature of the experiment and the nature of your patients’ experiences, not to mention the timing, we find it more than likely these phenomena are closely related.”

“Something hitched a ride on our, um, wave,” Dutch added, clearly having altered his wording at a glance from his wife.

“I will need considerably more technical detail than that to be able to provide an informed decision or even determine a direction for further diagnosis,” Dr. Uto opined.

“And you will have it, in all it’s rich detail, Ten,” Skip Howard promised. “Just not in present company. For now, I have one small hunch I would like your advice on. I ran a quick check for the complement of all three ships and it appears our mysterious wave-hitchhiker selected the smallest person on each ship. Even though roylans are considerably more massive than they appear, and Lieutenant Kresid is considerably heavier than either Captain Carter or Trader Pel, she was, at the time, easily the lightest person on the Escort. As Pel was the lightest on the Mako and Rhonda the lightest here.”

“And there’s that other similarity,” Uto added.

“And everyone wants to discuss sensitive information in the presence of unauthorized persons,” Howard opined, with a laugh and a smile. “Focus, Ten. What we need everyone present to hear is the experiences of our three, um, well, if Dutch’s surmise is correct, our three travelers.”


“But we didn’t go anywhere,” Pel objected. “It was just a strange dream.”

“A joint dream from your statements,” Howard observed. “Each of you described an interaction with a somewhat amorphous being of light that spoke an unrecognizable language with a musical voice.”

“It sounded like an organ, playing chords,” said Captain Rhonda Carter. “The only word I could make out was ‘Dolnok.’ No idea what that means.”

“There was a fire,” Pel continued. “It seemed to inflate some sort of large bag. It was between us, but I wasn’t afraid of it. It was controlled somehow. Like part of a big machine.”

Lieutenant Ki Kresid, the tiny roylan chief engineer for the Escort, spoke up - a thin, reedy voice and for some reason she was unable to create the ‘g’ sound: “It was speaking a formal greeting request. It wanted to meet me somewhere. We were in some sort of basket - part of the traveling, greeting invitation. It’s a ceremony I recognize from the ancient aerid civilization.”

“Pel,” said Skip Howard, “You said the word you recognized was ‘Nor?’ Correct?”

The diminutive ferengi nodded.


Howard turned toward Sakura Nakamura Holland. “Dolnok Nor?”


Sakura caught her breath. “The abandoned cardassian space station. A myth, I thought. Kind of the cardassian version of the Marie Celeste.”

“Not exactly,” Captain Howard replied. “It’s a real place and there were survivors - two of them. The cardassians abandoned it before it was completely assembled. There’s an entire cardassian space station out there, but the installation was not complete and the cardassians made no attempts to return to it. So it seems we have been invited to a haunted, abandoned, unfinished cardassian space station. Who could resist an invitation like that?”

2.4​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 5: Dax

Wondering when to do it again...

2.5
Dax

“I’m sorry, Captain Yui, but in my opinion, Project Manager Tidun is competent to stand trial.”


Ezri Dax had established her offices in a previously unused storefront on the second floor of the Deep Space 9 promenade. Storefront space in the promenade was at a premium, but Colonial Kira Nurys had agreed that the counselor’s office should be a warm and inviting space separate from the medical center. Not a place you go because you’re sick, but a comfortable resource for a quick word with a willing listener.

“As project manager, she is the only one being charged,” Dax continued. “The other trills will be called as witnesses. And while I’m no fan of the trillian justice system, Manager Tidun will have the ability to appeal her case to the Federation Tribunal.”

“What is wrong with trillian justice?” asked Yui Song. “I was under the impression the trill had one of the most advanced ethical and legal systems encountered by the Federation.”

Ezri Dax almost regretted inviting the question. Almost.


Following her interview in Ezri Dax’s office (or salon as Dax preferred to both characterize and present it), Kiasias Tidun had been remanded into custody in the station’s rather barbaric brig. The other 10 surviving trill miners had been moved into guest quarters on the habitat ring - only two small apartments with 5 trill each.


Dax indulged in a deep sigh. “For trill like me, yes. Only the best. But did you notice Tidun’s spots?”

“Rather faint,” Yui observed. “I found myself checking the transporter log just to verify she wasn’t half-trill.”

Dax shook her head. “The real thing. She’s a southern plains trill. Very little spotting. You might not have seen equatorial trills either - almost all spots. Or if you saw them, you might not recognize they were trills. Humans tend to think that all trills look like me.” Dax brushed her nails against her neck to emphasize her spots.

Clear lacquer nail polish. Yui realized suddenly that she had become acutely aware of such things. Such as Ezri Dax’s light, tasteful application of blue eye-shadow.

“Forest trills,” Ezri continued. “That’s what I am. When Dax required a new host in extremis, the Sanctuary passed over a far more qualified candidate because he wasn’t the proper race. By choosing me instead, they took a gamble with Dax’s life. But equatorial trills never get symbionts. Especially not a historically significant symbiont like Dax.”

“Surely the trillian justice system is not so racially biased,” Yui said.

“Officially, legally, legislatively, no,” Ezri Dax replied. “But a justice system is only as good as the people running it. There are still quite a few judges who are racially biased - some of them without even realizing it. And you can bet that the judges in the Tidun case will be forest trills. I really don’t like Tidun’s chances in that system. But since the Treaty of Trillus Prime has made our government a full member of the Federation, our court system now falls under the Federation Tribunal for ultimate authority. So even if Tidun doesn’t get a fair trial, she will get a fair appeal.”


2.5​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 6: Battleships


Battleships confide in me and tell me where you are...


2.6
Battleships


This time Rhonda Carter was meeting Organ Chord Voice on a battleship - a strange battleship. It looked like something from Earth’s 2nd World War, but the colors were all wrong. A purple battleship floated on a gunmetal gray ocean.

Organ Chord Voice had three faces this time. All speaking in unison, but with different pitches so that each word was a triad. Major, minor, diminished, augmented - not following any recognizable or predictable musical pattern, but musical nonetheless. The three faces were appended to the ends of the three guns of a large gun turret - gigantic gun barrels that flexed and swayed and danced in unison.

Organ Chord Voice had not been appended to a battleship. Organ Chord Voice was a battleship.

Two other large gun turrets also had flexible gun barrels that danced in unison with the turret that was speaking to Captain Carter. These other guns were not crowned with faces, but the ends of the guns were hatched, like the pipes of a great pipe organ. The barrels writhed and flexed and danced joyfully, but the three faces were theatrical masks of sadness.

As the music swelled, Organ Chord Voice, who seemed almost indistinguishable from the entire battleship, cried out in sorrow as the other guns joyfully launched broadside after broadside, gleefully shelling a far away shoreline, burning dully in the distance.

Organ Chord Voice was apologizing for this joyful attack and the unseen terror and carnage of those huddling on the shore, seeking scant refuge from the tonnage of blazing, exploding terror and death raining down on them.

Organ Chord Voice was sad about this, but it was in the battleship’s nature. This was, after all, the reason for its existence. And there was a deep, undeniable satisfaction in fulfilling its nature.

All the battleships.

Organ Chord Voice was not alone, but was only one among a vast armada of purple battleships - each with a different design. All designed to create a reign of terror - no - an ending. Gleefully fulfilling their purpose, yet somehow sorrowful in their overwhelming success.

“Dolnok Nor,” sang Organ Chord Voice.

Rhonda Carter looked up as Organ Chord Voice’s cannon launched a cannonade directly skyward with deafening, thunderous report.

The explosion took the form of an antique cardassian space station in the atmosphere-less sky. Not unlike Deep Space 9. But different stars than those visible in the starscape around Terok Nor.



Different stars.



Rhonda Carter, like most starship captains, had developed the ability to create a star map in her head. She committed the star map she was being shown to memory.


2.6​


Notes:
I hit on the idea of taking inspiration for this series from my favorite lyricist (Jon Anderson of YES). "Astral Traveler" is Track 7 on YES's 1969 album, Time and a Word. The next episode will be "Yours Is No Disgrace," which is track 1 on YES's 1970 album, The YES Album.

The lyrics for Astral Traveler inspired this episode. Two of my favorite lines from "Yours Is No Disgrace" appear as foreshadowing in this episode:

"Battleships confide in me and tell me where you are...
Shining, flying, purple wolfhounds show me where you are..."
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 6: Battleships


Battleships confide in me and tell me where you are...


2.6
Battleships


This time Rhonda Carter was meeting Organ Chord Voice on a battleship - a strange battleship. It looked like something from Earth’s 2nd World War, but the colors were all wrong. A purple battleship floated on a gunmetal gray ocean.

Organ Chord Voice had three faces this time. All speaking in unison, but with different pitches so that each word was a triad. Major, minor, diminished, augmented - not following any recognizable or predictable musical pattern, but musical nonetheless. The three faces were appended to the ends of the three guns of a large gun turret - gigantic gun barrels that flexed and swayed and danced in unison.

Organ Chord Voice had not been appended to a battleship. Organ Chord Voice was a battleship.

Two other large gun turrets also had flexible gun barrels that danced in unison with the turret that was speaking to Captain Carter. These other guns were not crowned with faces, but the ends of the guns were hatched, like the pipes of a great pipe organ. The barrels writhed and flexed and danced joyfully, but the three faces were theatrical masks of sadness.

As the music swelled, Organ Chord Voice, who seemed almost indistinguishable from the entire battleship, cried out in sorrow as the other guns joyfully launched broadside after broadside, gleefully shelling a far away shoreline, burning dully in the distance.

Organ Chord Voice was apologizing for this joyful attack and the unseen terror and carnage of those huddling on the shore, seeking scant refuge from the tonnage of blazing, exploding terror and death raining down on them.

Organ Chord Voice was sad about this, but it was in the battleship’s nature. This was, after all, the reason for its existence. And there was a deep, undeniable satisfaction in fulfilling its nature.

All the battleships.

Organ Chord Voice was not alone, but was only one among a vast armada of purple battleships - each with a different design. All designed to create a reign of terror - no - an ending. Gleefully fulfilling their purpose, yet somehow sorrowful in their overwhelming success.

“Dolnok Nor,” sang Organ Chord Voice.

Rhonda Carter looked up as Organ Chord Voice’s cannon launched a cannonade directly skyward with deafening, thunderous report.

The explosion took the form of an antique cardassian space station in the atmosphere-less sky. Not unlike Deep Space 9. But different stars than those visible in the starscape around Terok Nor.



Different stars.



Rhonda Carter, like most starship captains, had developed the ability to create a star map in her head. She committed the star map she was being shown to memory.


2.6​


Notes:
I hit on the idea of taking inspiration for this series from my favorite lyricist (Jon Anderson of YES). "Astral Traveler" is Track 7 on YES's 1969 album, Time and a Word. The next episode will be "Yours Is No Disgrace," which is track 1 on YES's 1970 album, The YES Album.

The lyrics for Astral Traveler inspired this episode. Two of my favorite lines from "Yours Is No Disgrace" appear as foreshadowing in this episode:

"Battleships confide in me and tell me where you are...
Shining, flying, purple wolfhounds show me where you are..."
Yo, "The Star Beagle Adventures" Episode 2: Astral Traveller just knocked my socks off! That scene with Organ Chord Voice being a whole battleship with three faces, each dropping beats like it's a cosmic DJ set, is straight-up bonkers—in the best way possible. We're talking a purple battleship on a gunmetal gray ocean. If that ain't a visual feast, I don't know what is.

And those gun barrels dancing? That's some next-level imagination. It's like the author chucked reality out the window and dove headfirst into a pool of psychedelic dreams. It's giving me major vibes of those old-school prog rock albums where each track takes you on a trip to places you didn't even know existed.
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 7: Giving a Hand

Get a great respect in the end....

2.7
Giving a Hand

“I’m really surprised - and pleased - that you came,”


Ezri Dax was more than a little mystified on meeting Captain Skip Howard. She noticed that his eyeshadow and nail polish matched her shade of light blue (although as usual, her own nail polish was clear lacquer.) She was even more astonished to have provided her services to two Star Fleet captains in two days.

Star Fleet captains were famous for avoiding counselors and Dax had never before seen one in her professional capacity. Captain Yui Song was understandably concerned about the trills she had helped rescue. Captain Howard had a more conventional reason for seeking counseling - he had lost people under his command. Given that, Howard seemed oddly relaxed and at ease.


“But as I understand it, Dr. Uto is certified both as a surgeon and a psychiatrist by the Betazed Royal School of Medicine,” Dax continued. “Is there a reason you did not feel comfortable bringing your concerns to him?”

Skip Howard smiled. A warm, relaxed, genuine smile, in Dax’s opinion. “Ten is a friend. In the field, when no one else is available, I have no problem turning to him. But it’s nice to talk to someone that I’m probably not going to go camping with. I’d like to keep the friendship from getting tangled with the counselor/patient relationship. And you’re not a telepath, which makes things easier.”

Dax nodded at this. At least for humans, having a telepathic - even mildly telepathic therapist could often be counterproductive. People need time to process things by talking them out. Telepathy provided an inconvenient shortcut that could interfere with normal human emotional processing.

“So do you feel that you have already processed the loss of the soldiers under your command?” Dax asked.

“Marines,” Howard corrected. “I have a private space on the ship, kind of away from everyone, zero gravity, no general lighting. I went there to have a good cry over it. Unfortunately, my all-too-well-intentioned crew found my hiding spot and a few people came to be with me. I try not to cry in front of klingons.” The Beagle’s captain chuckled slightly. “It feels undignified to cry openly in front of anyone - especially a klingon. And I don’t think anyone feels comfortable watching their captain cry. So I kind of had to bottle it back up.”

“You went somewhere to cry in private?” Dax was surprised - it wasn’t something she expected to hear from a Star Fleet captain.

“I’m not a vulcan,” Howard said with a smile. “I don’t want to be hindered by emotions coming back in an inopportune moment. Humans, especially Americans, are taught that there’s something wrong with crying. That doesn’t feel healthy to me. I just don’t want to do it in front of other people if I can avoid it.”

Dax shook her head slowly and smiled. “Star Fleet captains have a reputation for closing themselves off emotionally because they’re expected to be tough.”

“Grandad’s that way. Probably most of my ancestors, especially the Star Fleet captains and admirals among them. But it skipped over Dad and he didn’t pass that along to me either,” Howard said.

“So what are you hoping to achieve here with me?” Dax asked.

“I think I’m okay with the grief,” said Howard. “There really wasn’t much I could have done to save them. I was right there with them. We were in that environment for 68 seconds. I pushed the button the moment I realized it was hopeless and we were just going to get slaughtered in there. It was hell.” Howard took a deep breath. He had gone from being relaxed to being somber. “I’m okay with the grief for my part. It’s the creepiness that’s getting to me.”

“I saw the video you took in there,” said Dax. “It looked like a nightmare. Creepy as hell. Giant flaming eyeball…” she shuddered. “Stuff of nightmares. Has it been getting into your dreams?”

“Yeah, no, that’s not the issue I was talking about,” Howard responded. “Ever since first contact with the vulcans, there has been a growing trend for humans to have our remains reclaimed - pulped - and planted with a sapling as fertilizer. To give our bodies back to the Earth - or whatever planet we live on. This has become really popular among the marines - among most United Earth Governments military forces.”

“We have similar ceremonies on Trillus Prime,” Dax offered.

“Yeah, that’s all well and good,” Howard rejoined. “It’s just that the United States Marines - or at least those attached to deep space vessels that have arboretums - have this new tradition of donating their right hand after death to their ship’s arboretum. So tomorrow, in a rather grotesque ceremony, I’m going to have to accept the disembodied right hand of each of those four dead marines, and arrange to have them pulped and planted in the U.S.S. Beagle’s arboretum along with some sort of plant… You know, I could use some horticultural advice…”

2.7​
 
Sounds like Skip’s gonna need a hand to get through all this (I’m very, very sorry :sigh:).

I like the point about telepaths not actually making brilliant therapists. Never really seemed to track with me that such a quick shortcut would be all that useful when the journey is often more important than the destination in such treatments.

And I wouldn’t want to be seen crying in front of a Klingon either. Good life advice. :klingon:
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 8: Shining, Flying, Purple Wolfhounds

Shining, flying, purple wolfhounds show me where you are...

2.8
Shining, Flying, Purple Wolfhounds


Shining, flying, purple wolfhounds chased Lieutenant Ki Kresid from one end of Dolnok Nor to the other. The roylan’s ancestors had always been prey and her instincts served her well to keep her out of reach of the predators. Even though these predators could fly. Their howls sounded like rich, strange organ chords.

Roylans were quite rare in the federation, despite being scattered all over the Alpha Quadrant. They had never developed technology much more complicated than the bow, but found themselves hunted vigorously by the Orion Syndicate for the slave trade and the tiny humanoids had quickly gained expertise with orion technology. Orion slavers deliberately bred roylans in captivity and their off-world population had quickly outgrown their numbers on their home planet, which had fallen under Federation protection and was no longer available to the slave hunters. The vast majority of roylans lived in slavery to orions and to any number of their paying customers. The tiny humanoids carefully hid the breadth of their unique physical and mental skills - using them in secrecy to escape their captors and trickle back into the federation.

Lieutenant Kresid was relying on those skills now. She leapt effortlessly from the floor of the unfinished promenade to the second floor - clean over the protective railing - then seemed to disappear as her shining, flying, purple, canine hunters flew up to the second level. As the wolfhounds stalked about the second floor of the promenade, the U.S.S. Escort’s engineering director crawled, hanging underneath the second floor, then neatly and lightly dropped to the first floor in front of the detention area, slipped inside and closed the doors.

But the station was without power and there was no lock to hold the doors together. The wolfhounds had discovered her. They howled and brayed like distorted organs, and rammed into the door, trying to open it. Ki Kresid backed up, then scrambled behind the security desk and started looking for a weapon. Nothing. Not even a solid rod for a workable truncheon. If the station had power, she could have cobbled together a weapon out of conduit and a few other items, but there was no power. The station was lit only by her glowing body and the bodies of the wolfhounds. Shining, flying, purple wolfhounds.

After banging into the door enough times, they managed to open it a little and that was enough for them to wedge their way in. Kresid scrambled over the top of the security desk, leapt neatly onto the back of the first wolfhound, grasped its fur and neatly pirouetted her body around into a riding position.


And everything changed.


She was no longer the hunted. She was part of the pack. With their organ chord howls, the wolfhounds immediately turned and thundered through the station and seamlessly right through one of the walls.

There was a tracking beacon and the lead wolfhound, with Kresid astride, rode the tracking beacon. Stars streamed by at an incredible speed. Easily warp 9.6, then faster, and faster, and impossibly faster. Lt. Kresid memorized the streaks, quickly gathering her bearing. The tracking beacon was a straight line. Straight from Dolnok Nor into her temporary quarters in Terok Nor - Deep Space 9.

And in her bed, at the other end of the tracking beacon, was her inert body. A startled Skip Howard and Tentis Uto were both looking at her. And the shining, flying, purple wolfhound. The beacon drew Kresid off the back of the enormous beast and she snapped back into her body and sat straight up. Howard and Uto had followed her progress, then all three of them turned back to look at the wolfhound.

They could see through the shining, purple beast, a table, chair, and wall behind it. The beast first snarled, then opened its translucent mouth wide and emitted a deep, mournful howl. A howl that sounded more like an organ chord. But the mournfulness came through - a deep, powerful sadness emanating from the animal, riding the sound wave of its mournful, organ chord howling.

Something recalled the animal and pulled it back through the wall at enormous speed, doing no damage to the wall and leaving nothing in its wake other than the stunned looks of confusion on Captain Skip Howard, Dr. Tentis Uto, and Lt. Ki Kresid.

2.8​
 
Another wonderfully trippy sequence. Can’t begin to speculate where all this is going (apart from to a spooky Cardassian space station), but I’m looking forward to finding out. :)


Hah! :D One of my favourite Spock moments. And not so subtly parodied in ST:Bounty at one point.
“Look at the state of you two,” she managed with a relieved smile, before stepping over to Klath and wrapping him in a warm hug.

Klath writhed uncomfortably from within the hug, only partly because of the additional pain it was causing to at least three separate injuries on his body.

“Please, Denella,” he managed to grunt, “Not in front of the Vulcan.”
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 9: My Shadow


Have another fly into the sky...


2.9
My Shadow


If someone had told Dax that she would counsel three Star Fleet captains in three days, she would have laughed in their face. Star Fleet captains were famous for denying themselves counseling until their personal emotional baggage made them dangerous to their own crews, and even when they did seek counseling, it was usually from their own ship’s counselor.

All that, and since the end of the war and the loss of Captain Sisko, Star Fleet captains were a bit of a rarity at Deep Space 9.

While Captain Yui Song had been seeking counsel about a trill prisoner she was concerned about (making it natural for her to seek out a trill counselor) and Captain Skip Howard had, for all of his eccentricity, seemed exceptionally emotionally self-aware and well balanced, the captain sitting across from Ezri Dax today had clearly gone through significant physical and emotional trauma and her need for counseling must have been evident to anyone who had seen her walk into Dax’s salon.

Captain Rhonda Carter was out of uniform, having chosen to wear faded blue jeans and a simple white tee shirt. Ezri could tell this was her favorite casual wear, but Carter had the gaunt, emaciated look of someone recovering from radiation poisoning. And she was a slim woman to begin with - her breasts were so small they were almost non-existent. She had no need for a bra. A short bristle of gray hair covered the captain’s head. From the case notes Dr. Uto had provided, Dax knew that this was new growth to replace recent hair loss from radiation poisoning. Still, considering she had been recently snatched back from the jaws of death, Carter had a determined look and surprisingly relaxed, athletic posture.


“Welcome to my salon, Captain,” said Dax. She smiled just a little more on realizing that Carter was attracted to her. It was just a momentary smile and a slight look of pleasant surprise in the captain’s eyes, but Dax had centuries of experience with humans - easily enough to read Carter’s body language.

“So first, thank you for asking Dr. Uto to forward your case file. You’ve been through quite a lot. I’m actually a little bit of a fan. I heard about some of your exploits during the war. I have to admit I’m a little flustered,” Dax admitted. “I suppose I should thank you for your service.”

Carter relaxed into her chair just a bit more and smiled just a bit more. “Flattery will get you everywhere with me, counselor,” she replied. Ezri Dax was achingly cute. Carter rolled her head back and sighed, giving herself a moment to orient into her purpose for being here. “I need some advice about how to help a friend. I think I’ve made some mistakes.”

“That friend wouldn’t be a certain klingon general who saved your life?” Dax asked.

“Skip and Song both told me you’re a smart one,” Carter replied. “They both said you’re cute as hell too. I’ve come to trust their judgement.”

Ezri Dax laughed and felt some of her tension draining. “You humans just keep surprising me. And by me, I mean Dax. I’ve known hundreds of humans and more than a few Star Fleet captains. Believe me, the last thing I expected was to see any Star Fleet captains in my professional capacity - much less three of them in three days. And I’ve never seen a friendship among captains like yours. It’s really remarkable.”

“Complete surprise to me, too,” Carter admitted. “I couldn’t imagine three people - or at least three humans who are more different from each other. We’re here awaiting our next assignments. I’m really going to miss working with them. That’s part of why I’m here.”

“You’re afraid of being separated from General Krank?” Dax asked.

“Not for me. For him. He’s kind of become my shadow. I mean, I adore him, but I’m worried. You don’t know what those changelings did to him. They…” Carter took a deep breath. The tears in the corner of her eyes were tears of rage and she was shaking just a little. “They unmanned him!” Carter fell silent, her lips trembling, her face a grimace of mingled sorrow and rage.

Dax let the silence do its work. She found herself more than a little stunned. Not only had she seen three captains in three days, but each had so easily let down their guard with her. The last thing she expected was for Star Fleet’s toughest fighter to become so completely vulnerable with her so quickly. She waited until she could tell that Rhonda Carter was just a little too lost and needed some permission to help her find her way:


“This is about you, isn’t it?”


Carter looked up. “He needs to be a man again. God, I want to do that for him. He… It’s not just that he saved my life. He was my hero during the war. And having met him…”

“You love him,” Dax stated simply.

“Yes,” Carter admitted. “And I would do anything for him. But I’m just not wired that way. I mean, I love him, but not that way. I mean, I’ve been attracted to men before, kind of on the surface. With him it’s emotional. But it’s not…”

“Sexual?” Dax asked.

“I don’t know if you can understand. I don’t want to be a man. I like being a woman. And I love being with women. To be with a man, just the thought of it feels all wrong. Unnatural.”

Carter was so completely vulnerable. Dax could easily see how women who had never harbored any lesbian fantasies could fall for her. The impact of Carter’s unique combination of strength and vulnerability was a natural aphrodisiac. Dax had to slow her breathing. It was dangerous to become so quickly sexually attracted to one of her patients.

“God, I so much want to give him that, though,” Carter continued.

“But you know you can’t,” said Dax.

“There’s no way I could do that,” Carter said. “It would just end up hurting us both more. Even though we’re probably going to end up assigned to different quadrants of the galaxy - it would still end up hurting him. He’s a klingon. They get so attached.”

“I found that out the hard way,” Dax admitted. “My former host was married to a klingon and I made the mistake of being with him once. It really hurt us both so much.”

Carter registered surprise. “You look so young. It’s hard to think of you as someone who has lived a dozen lifetimes.” She stood up suddenly. Dax could almost feel the wave of heat coming off of her. For such an enormous personality, Captain Rhonda Carter was a very small woman - 5’0” and 90 pounds of pure rocket fuel. “You know what I need? I need a good screw. It’s been way too long.” She turned to leave.


“Rhonda?”


Carter stopped, turned toward Dax.

“Be careful out there. The mood you’re in right now… you’re about to rip your way through this space station, probably seduce four or five women, ravish them and leave them all wanting more.” Dax wasn’t smiling. “Just… Just be careful how many hearts you break trying to fix yours.”

Carter gave Dax a look of raw sexual aggression. “God damn it I wish you weren’t my counselor. The things I would do with you… Mmmh!” It was a guttural sound.

Captain Carter whirled and strode out of Ezri Dax’s salon, leaving Dax breathing hard and feeling more than a little boggy. Ezri shook her head slowly, trembling more than a little, and said to herself, very, very quietly, “Boy is Julian going to get it tonight…”

2.9​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 10: Quark’s Quarters

Somewhere, flying high...

2.10
Quark’s Quarters


Trader Pel was getting dressed. Very, very quietly.

But ferengi had the most sensitive hearing of any of the known races in the Alpha Quadrant and even the slightest sibilance of Pel’s silk jacket sliding over silk shirt sleeves was enough to wake Quark. His breathing changed, providing noisy (to a ferengi) evidence that he was awake and watching.


“So you’re just going to put those clothes on and walk out of here.” Quark was sitting up in bed.

“I can’t sleep here,” Pel explained. “Strange dreams. Sleep disorder.”

“This is all wrong,” Quark rejoined. “You’re getting dressed. I’m completely naked here.” He got out of bed, making his point obvious.

Pel smiled and turned and leaned up to kiss Quark.

Quark enjoyed the kiss for only a second, then backed off. “It’s just… so wrong! I’m not that kind of guy…”

“Evidently you are,” Pel laughed. “The evidence is all over both of us…”

Quark came up with a scandalized expression, causing Pel to laugh again. “You know you love it… The taboo… That feeling of being so very, very naughty…”

Quark wrapped his naked body in an expensive, silk robe that managed to blend leopard spots with a subtle plaid. “You know, if you think you can just come in here and use me for sex…” He shook his head slowly. “Well, I guess I’m okay with that, really…”

Pel paused at the door, turned and smiled at the ferengi bar owner. “Same time tomorrow?”

“I really hope so,” Quark replied, with feeling. “You know, I’ve missed you…”

Pel smiled more broadly, nodded slightly. “I could tell…” The minuscule, exiled ferengi trader dodged quickly out of the door as Quark retrieved a pillow and threw it.

Laughing.


2.10​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 11: 12, 13, 14

Once in the air, people who dare...

2.11
12, 13, 14


“FOURTEEN!!!!”


A small, slim, bald man in his late-50’s, wearing a business suit, was standing on the Deep Space 9 promenade next to an older man who was quite clearly his father - their look and build was so similar. The older man wore the uniform of a Star Fleet admiral. His son, who had shouted, took off running as if he were a teenager.

Captain Skip Howard turned around and his face lit up like the morning sun. “THIRTEEN!!!” He broke into a run, slowing just enough that he didn’t bowl himself and his father over in the middle of the DS9 promenade. Their boisterous tackle-hug made them the center of attention as Admiral Ronald Howard, XII walked up to join them, slowly shaking his bald head.

“So much undignified drama from my descendants,” Admiral Howard intoned in a mock dramatic soliloquy, shaking his head. “Where did I go wrong?” The admiral gathered his grandson into a rough, athletic hug, then held him at arm’s length and looked at him. “Janet Carter had some very high praise for you. She told me what you went through - the people you lost. You seem to be holding together well.”

Skip Howard looked pensive for a moment. “Except for this rather grim ceremony where I will accept their severed body parts to enrich the soil of my ship’s arboretum.”

The admiral patted his grandson’s shoulders, then stepped back slightly. “Don’t ever let them hear you say it like that, son. It’s a big point of pride and honor thing for them.”

“What are you planting?” asked the middle Howard.

Skip Howard turned toward his father, smiled easily. “Hands and hydrangeas. I felt it was important if they’re hand-feeding a plant, that it should be a terrestrial species.”

“Tall, noble, colorful…” Ronald Howard, XIII ruminated. “A rich history with Imperial Japan and the way of the samurai... conveying at once sorrow and gratitude…”

“And they’re inedible,” Admiral Howard observed.

Captain Howard snapped his fingers and pointed. “And it’s grandpa for the win!”


Three generations of Howards shared a laugh.


“So both of you have already seen the Beagle,” Captain Howard said. “Fly fishing on Bajor?”

“Actually, I’ve been engaged to represent the interests of some trill miners that you recently brought back from ferengi space,” said the middle Howard.

Skip Howard flexed his entire body and made a triumphal motion with both fists. “Yes! Dad to the rescue! So do you have some time for lunch? There’s a ferengi who has hired some high quality chefs…”

“Actually, the three of us have a date with the station commander and a few other notables in the banquet room,” said Admiral Howard. “Call it a brass quintet,” he added, tapping each of the four pips on his grandson’s uniform. “Your fellow captains, and Vice Admiral Ho.”

“VICE Admiral?” Skip Howard asked.


2.11​
 
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The Star Beagle Adventures

Episode 2: Astral Traveller
Scene 12: Ho Lan Thao


2.12
Ho Lan Thao

“Nice brass, sir.”


Captain Yui Song had risen when her commanding officer entered the banquet room. At the moment it was just the two of them.

Vice Admiral Ho Lan Thao was, in build, similar to Captain Rhonda Carter, if even a little smaller and with very nice, womanly curves. But her features, dark skin and gracefully demure demeanor were those of a Vietnamese woman. “An assignment I have always wanted,” she said. “I was seriously considering retirement until they offered it to me.” Even though she was nearly 70, there was only the slightest hint of gray in her long, thick black hair.

Yui Song found herself envious of her commanding officer’s graceful aging. She looked like she might be in her 40’s.

“I’ve been thinking about retirement too,” Song offered. “My commission expires in two months.”

“You’re 83? That’s rather old for a captain. At least for a human,” Vice Admiral Ho observed. “Nearly 50 years in the service, two tours at the helm of a starship. 15 years as a professor at the academy.”

“The Cardassian War and the Dominion War,” Yui Song said. “I signed up to be an explorer. I’ve been a soldier, and I’ve been a teacher.”

“That’s the nature of service, Song,” Ho rejoined. “We answer the call. And you acquitted yourself exceptionally well in both roles. One of our best fighters. One of our top teachers. Hundreds of people owe their lives to you. Thousands. Some because of how you led them. Far more because of what you taught them. So what will you do with your retirement?”

“I really don’t know.” Yui Song sighed. “My family was on Fender Marsh. There’s not even an atmosphere there anymore.”

“None of them survived?” Ho asked.

“One of the most egregious of the atrocities of the Dominion. The banality of evil…”


“We were concerned that you might go on a vengeance tour,” said Ho. “But you only became a better soldier.”

“I didn’t want to kill them,” Captain Yui responded. “I wanted to defeat them. Utterly. Our way. I wanted them to truly be sorry for what they did. If we just savagely killed them…” Yui fell silent for a moment, then: “I wanted to prove our way is better. To win the peace. I wanted them to learn contrition.”

“You would have made a great admiral,” Ho observed. “Are you certain I can’t talk you into staying under my command? I could use another five years. We lost a lot of high quality officers in this war.”


“I want to fly a ship, sir, not a desk.” Yui’s voice had the firm sound of resolve.


“Skip Howard adores you, you know,” Ho rejoined. “He had very high praise.”

“He’s unique. And he’s a Howard born and bred. Doesn’t walk like one or act like one, but he has that Howard charm. He is a little on the green side, though.”

“My thoughts as well,” said Ho. “He acquitted himself really well on the ferengi mission, but I’m not really comfortable sending him out there in that bizarrely advanced ship by himself.”

“Out there… where?”

Vice Admiral Ho gave Captain Yui a direct look - for the first time truly seeming like a Star Fleet Admiral. “Since first contact with the Dominion went so horribly wrong, United Earth Governments and the Federation Council want an expeditionary force outside of Federation space to identify potential threats. A voyage of discovery, which is what the Beagle was built for. But they don’t want that high technology out there by itself with a green, freshly promoted captain at the helm. Even if he is a Howard.”

“You’re not going to try to supplant him?” Yui asked. “I think that would be a mistake, especially now. That crew is invested in him.”

“Agreed,” said Ho. “I want to send along a strong, right arm. Some muscle for him to rely on.”

“Captain Carter would jump at the chance,” Yui observed.

“And I want to send along a mentor. Someone whom he respects and will listen to. What do you say, Commodore Yui? Care to leave it all out there on the field? Five years to explore outside of Federation space? Strange new worlds and new civilizations? To boldly go where no man has gone before?”

2.12​
 
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