Star Trek Hunter Episode 16: Slavers

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Continued from Episode 15: A Stitch in Spacetime

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 16: Slavers

Episode 16 – Slavers​

“In the early days of human colonization of the Alpha Quadrant, the Vulcan Space Command prevented human access to habitable planets that had indigenous intelligent pre-warp populations. At the same time, they began to open vulcan colonies to a burgeoning spacebound human population. Earth’s population had stabilized at about 12 billion.

“Behind the scenes, a number of economic actors, including the vulcans and the denobulans, worked to create incentives for massive human population growth. With an increasing life expectancy, longer fertility periods and being perpetually in heat, humanity had a unique potential for explosive population growth among the species that eventually united to form the Federation. Humans, denobulans and vulcans alike saw the potential for filling up available environments with human populations as a bulwark against potential aggressors – the klingons, the romulans and others.

“Their long term plan was to stabilize this population once the boundaries of the Federation were established and potential environments secured. But the genie was not so easily put back into the bottle. Into this runaway population growth came an unanticipated secondary population explosion of hybrids as human genetics leant the gift of human fecundity to other federation species…”

Pomm Irons – The Human Time Bomb.​

New to Star Trek Hunter? You can catch up with the series at Ad Astra via this link:​

Star Trek Hunter at Ad Astra​

 

[Galen4]

I’ve always loved the fictional history book narrative of your series. In my opinion it helps to flesh out the ST universe with details that aren’t usually discussed much in canon works. What would academia look like in this universe? How would a thesis or textbook read? You’re giving us a peek.

The idea of a galaxy populated by thousands of humanoid aliens that mostly look human and all interbreed with one another is inherently silly.
Yet, you manage to lend credibility this scenario.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

...The idea of a galaxy populated by thousands of humanoid aliens that mostly look human and all interbreed with one another is inherently silly. Yet, you manage to lend credibility this scenario.

I think it was Carl Sagan who observed (when asked about Spock) that it would be more plausible to cross-breed a man with a petunia than with an alien. Then there are all the issues with the speed of causality... Star Trek is more fantasy than science fiction.

Thanks for the kind words!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode: 16: Slavers
Scene 1: Flying By the Seat of their Pants

16.1
Flying By the Seat of their Pants​

Probably the most sophisticated and elegant of all Maquis inventions was the atmosphere specific flight suit. It had been invented to provide the Maquis rebels a nearly untraceable method for inserting a large strike force onto a planet from space. The garment’s outer layer was a temporary EVA suit, which could provide up to ten hours protection in open space, but was designed to gradually ablate on entry into a planetary atmosphere. The heat of ablation provided power to a micro inertial dampener, designed to slow the descent of the wearer without registering on a sensor as anything more energetic than an average meteor.

By the time the wearer entered the middle atmosphere, the outer suit was designed to fall away and ablate entirely, while the micro-dampener, before being destroyed with the suit, was designed to slow the wearer sufficiently for deployment of a triangular fixed wing, controlled by hands and feet, allowing a very long glide capability so that the wearer – now a pilot – could glide for hundreds of kilometers to seek their preferred landing zone. A set of levers allowed the pilot to gradually open a number of billows built into the fabric of this wing, providing controlled drag to enable a horizontal landing on skids that were deployed beneath the pilot. The entire wing structure was designed to be disassembled on landing for reuse either in its original capacity or for other purposes.


While these suits had been designed and a few hundred had been manufactured for a space-to-ground assault, the Maquis never used them for this purpose and the prototypes were eventually sold as escape modules. Pomm Irons, Minerva Irons’ bajoran grandson-in-law, had long ago purchased three of these and stored them on the B.R. Prophet Motive in hopes they would never be needed.


Neither Pivin the Betrayer nor Oarama Irons had ever donned these suits before and there was no training program. Just a tag with alarmingly optimistic pictograms. These flight suits, crafted by Maquis rebels in hastily prepared workshops on outlawed colonies, had a distinctly homemade appearance to them. The two women struggled into them, having to experiment with the inner and outer portions to get them to fit correctly while the runabout’s pilot, a massively obese bajoran male, made one wild turn after another, trying to evade phaser fire from a small cloud of orion interceptors and at the same time avoid the massive walls and columns of energized plasma that characterized the Badlands.


In desperation, Pomm Irons launched first the elderly romulan woman, then his (primarily) cardassian wife into space from the Prophet Motive’s torpedo launcher, before angling the large runabout to avoid another plasma burst. Phaser fire from pursuing orion interceptors sparked off the yellow runabout’s shields and intersected with the surrounding plasma storm, adding bright laces of energy to the energetic fields of ignited stellar gasses that made the Badlands so dangerous for navigation – and a favorite hiding place not only for the Maquis rebels, but for outlaws and refugees of every description. And, now that the Maquis rebel forces had been devastated in the War with the Dominion, no one was left to protect the tens of thousands of refugees who sheltered behind the plasma storms. The Badlands had become a rich hunting ground for green-skinned orion slavers.


As their ship and only home swerved away from them in a futile attempt to escape a dozen orion interceptors, Pivin, the romulan spy, and Oarama Irons, Justice Minerva Irons’ mostly cardassian granddaughter, with only their flimsy, homemade EVA suits between them and the cold of space, had to adjust their flight pattern to pass through eddies in the plasma bursts that were far too small for a ship, but easily large enough for an EVA suit to pass through.

One of the orion interceptors that had been hot on Pomm’s tail diverted course to follow the two women. The hole in the plasma burst was just large enough to thread an interceptor through. But the pilot failed to take magnetic interference into account and the plasma interacted with the interceptor’s shielding, trapping the small vessel and pulling it up into the plasma storm, where it exploded, feeding its energy into the plasma cloud.

Pivin and Oarama could only adjust their flight through open space with small bursts of gas from the sides of their flight suits. All around them on every side the plasma storm raged in vibrant reds, yellows and greens – energized and electrified by the orion interceptor it had swallowed and was digesting in brilliant cascades of intense blue lightning. For a moment it was easy for them to forget this was a desperate escape and simply admire the raw, energetic beauty of the Badlands.

But a rogue planet was hidden in the middle of all this blazing stellar material – so enveloped in the raging plasma storm that it was nearly impossible to approach by ship. Even a runabout would have great difficulty navigating the storm raging around Vengeons-Roux (as the Maquis had named the planet).


Rogue planets were almost invariably frozen, dead planets, but not Vengeons-Roux. The planet’s strong magnetosphere protected the atmosphere from the blazing waves of stellar material. The biosphere had survived by adapting to the energy of the raging plasma storm around the planet and small animals hunted by the ever shifting light that at one moment might be close to daylight and in the next moment twilight. Pomm and Oarama had scouted this planet years ago as a possible emergency hideout and had left a stash of supplies and food. They had also sewn a number of hardy and very useful plants to grow wild near these supplies.


Following Pomm’s scant and hurried instructions, Pivin and Oarama kept at least 500 meters between them as they entered the atmosphere of Vengeons-Roux. They turned their bellies to the atmosphere and watched – their face-masks instantly turning dark to protect their eyes and faces from the intense heat and radiation of their suits ablating into the planet’s atmosphere. They could feel the drag of micro inertial dampeners embedded in their flight suits, slowing their descent and cooling them as the remnants of the outer suits broke free and fell below them in trails of flaming debris.

As they deployed their fixed wings above them, the skids that were all that was left of the front of their EVA suits also deployed, providing a counter-balance to their triangular fixed wings, helping to keep them oriented for face-down horizontal flight and a horizontal landing. The inertial dampeners gave them a final lift, then dropped away to be smashed to dust on the ground far below. The flapping of the fabric wings grew louder and gradually provided increased lift as they glided into increasingly dense atmosphere.

After a few hours of synchronized flight, Oarama changed her wing angle and sped ahead of Pivin, then swooped around, slowing again. Pivin followed and the two gradually circled their target landing zone for nearly ten minutes, gradually losing speed and altitude until first Oarama, then Pivin landed on their skids, skidding across nearly 300 meters before grinding to a halt in a large meadow that Pomm and Oarama had long ago selected for just such a landing site. Oarama was grateful that it still was a meadow.


A number of large quadrupeds crept out from the tree line toward the two women as they hurriedly freed themselves from their flight harnesses. The creatures had large heads with large mouths. They walked and stalked somewhat like wolves, spreading out to encircle the two women. The moment Pivin and Oarama stepped free of their flight gear and stood up straight, the animals quickly turned and ran back into the trees.

“They fear bipeds,” Pivin observed.

“We’re not alone,” Oarama concluded.

16.1 (of 19)​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Crew of the U.S.S. Hunter: (Ship's Interactive Holographic Avatar - Hunter).

At-Large Appellate Justice, Captain Minerva Irons.
Chief Executive Officer - Commander David Pepper.
Chief Operations Officer - Lieutenant Commander Mlady.
.
Medical Director - Commander Tali Shae.

Assistant Medical Director - Lieutenant Jazz Sam Sinder.
Epidemiologist - Lieutenant Napoleon Boles.

Ensign Chrissiana Trei.

Forensic Specialist - Midshipman Sif.
Emergency Medical Hologram - Dr. Raj.
Tactical Medical Hologram - Dr. Kim.​

.
Director of Flight Operations - Lieutenant Commander Kenneth Dolphin.

Assistant Flight Director - 2nd Lieutenant Gaia Gamor.

Navigator Johanna Imex.
Navigator Eli Strahl.​

Ensign Ethan Phillips.

Chief Flight Specialist Dewayne Guth.
Chief Flight Specialist Thyssi zh’Qaoleq.
Flight Specialist Dih Terri.
Flight Specialist Winnifreid Salazaar.​

.
Director of Ground Operations - Lieutenant Tauk.

Assistant Ground Ops Director - 2nd Lieutenant T’Lon.

Investigator Buttans Ngumbo.
Investigator - (vacant).​

Ensign Tolon Reeves.

Chief Tactical Specialist Rumi Grace.
Tactical Specialist Dasare Eba.
Tactical Specialist Veri Geki.
Tactical Specialist Ranni Neivi.​

.
Director of Engineering - Lieutenant Moon Sun Salek.

Assistant Engineering Director - 2nd Lieutenant Sun Ho Hui.

Midshipman Tammy Brazil.

Transporter Engineer K'rok.​

Ensign Geoffrey Horatio Alstars, Lord Wootton-Sandleigh, Order of Merit.

Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas.
Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs.
Flight Engineer Tomos.
Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon.​

 

[Galen4]

Loving the detailed explanation of the flight suits. I have to admit, I was expecting to hear that the Maquis had stolen the suits from Starfleet. It's a bit of a stretch to think they invented and constructed such advanced and innovative tech on their own. But on the other hand, the Maquis have had at times, a wealth of talent to draw from, depending on what engineers, combat specialists and scientists join at any given point.

Pivin and Oarama's descent onto this dangerous rock was cool. It looks like they're both about to play Fortnite for real.

(And for some reason, my brain keeps reading Oarama as "Obama". Knock it off, brain!) And damn your phonetic funny business, Robert. This is all your fault.

I came in at the start for a change. Here's hoping I can keep up with your dizzying posting rate!

Peace and long life.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Loving the detailed explanation of the flight suits. I have to admit, I was expecting to hear that the Maquis had stolen the suits from Starfleet... (And for some reason, my brain keeps reading Oarama as "Obama". Knock it off, brain!)...

Glad you enjoyed! The flight suits are a bit crude and flimsy for Star Fleet (they only have a 50% survival rate - which is why the Maquis never used them for ground assault.) Never thought of the Obama connection - Oarama, Pomm and Pivin came from the various random name generators on Memory Beta (as did most of the names for my non-human characters.)

Thanks again for the review! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode: 16: Slavers
Scene 2: Possum-Chicken

16.2
Possum-Chicken​

The U.S.S. Milky Way was considerably larger than the old Galaxy class star ships, but had a lower, sleeker profile with the secondary engineering hull located behind the saucer section instead of beneath it and the engine nacelles located out to the sides of the secondary hull instead of above or below. Like the Galaxy class, the Milky Way could be operated with a skeleton crew of 100 and generally required 700 for normal operations. The actual crew complement was 1,231 with an additional 400 Star Fleet cadets, and two basic training units designed to produce a total of 60 enlistees every 16 weeks. An additional 2,000 civilians performed functions from weapons and replacement parts manufacture to food production to education and family services. Even with 4,000 people onboard, large sections of the ship were vacant and could be re-purposed for a wide number of uses. The Milky Way was designed to manufacture whatever spare parts or enhancements it required while on missions far from home.


Captain Sullivan Cruz, newly promoted and newly assigned to command the U.S.S. Intrepid, on which she had served for the past three years as first officer, was admiring the Milky Way from the bridge of the Intrepid. “Old Possum-Chicken got a pretty serious upgrade,” she said.

“Why do you call him ‘Possum-Chicken’?” asked her newly assigned pilot, Lt. Shaq Carter.

“Some of the brass at Star Fleet started calling him ‘Possum’ – as an insult – because that’s his favorite game,” Cruz replied. “He used it at Wolf 359 when it became evident we were hopelessly outmatched. Every other starship captain fought until the borg destroyed them. Serge played dead until the borg moved on, then rescued more than a hundred crew members from the broken remains of their ships… Rescued me – I was an ensign fresh out of the academy. Most of my shipmates didn’t survive. Captain Chekov played possum with the klingons and later the jem’hadar during the Dominion War. He’s very good at avoiding a fight. But I watched him use that same tactic to lure a Vor’cha class cruiser into their own mine field. He destroyed a top of the line klingon battle cruiser without firing a single shot.”

Captain Cruz was in full storytelling mode – half of the officers on her bridge were new and had not heard this story before – and it was a good one. “The name ‘Possum-Chicken’ comes from a game we played with a pair of klingon birds of prey. It was the aftermath of the Battle for Detapa Council, which ended badly for both us and the klingons. In a vast debris field – the remnants of Star Fleet and Imperial Klingon hulls, two birds of prey were playing dead. With two active birds of prey on the field we couldn’t rescue our stranded crew members from the other destroyed ships. So we played dead too – and our three ships were drifting closer. And closer…” Cruz illustrated her story with her hands, demonstrating the relative positions of the ships. “And closer… Those klingons had nerves of steel. So did Serge… At the last minute he ordered our thrusters to full downward thrust and pushed us straight down out of their line of fire just as they opened up with their disrupters and they ended up shooting each other. We burned them both out of our sky without losing a single crew member. Serge won that fight by playing Possum and Chicken at the same time.”

“Other Star Fleet captains have more kills. But old Possum-Chicken has rescued more stranded crew members and brought more people home alive than all of them put together. Other Star Fleet captains get medals for valor. Captain Chekov gets to take out the first new ship in every class because he brings his crews home alive and his ships home in one piece,” Cruz concluded. “Not an easy man to get along with, but in my opinion there’s not a better captain in the fleet.”


“He’s hailing us, sir,” came the voice of Ensign Fyndis Gaddid, a young bolian woman standing at the new tactical operations station that had been squeezed next to the tactical station in a recent re-design of the Intrepid’s bridge.

Captain Cruz made a “come hither” gesture with her right hand and the ensign put the signal through.

Captain Chekov appeared on the screen – a balding man in his 60’s with a hard round belly, an unflattering comb-over, a pock-marked face and heavy lidded eyes. He leaned forward in an enormous captain’s chair. Although she could not see it on the viewer, Cruz knew that chair was located near the back of the largest bridge on any Star Fleet vessel, a bridge that included a bull-pen of eight tactical stations.

“Intrepid, this is U.S.S. Milky Way, Serge Mykel Chekov commanding.”

“Milky Way, this is the U.S.S. Intrepid, Sullivan Parker Cruz commanding. Go ahead, Milky Way…”

“Are you ready for our little game of wounded bird, Sully?” Chekov had only a hint of his grandfather’s famously thick Russian accent.

“Aye, sir,” Cruz replied.

“That is your bridge, Captain and your collar is identical to mine. It’s not “sir” to you any longer. It’s ‘Ser-GEY’, yes?”

“Old habits are hard to break, Captain… Serge,” Cruz corrected.

“And best broken over vodka,” Chekov replied. “Of which I have a considerable supply waiting for you and your crew at the successful conclusion of this mission. Our green-skinned neighbors have grown far too aggressive along our negotiated border and Admiral th’Zoarhi wants a demonstration of our resolve to protect the indigenous peoples of the region. I’m afraid I intend to leave you hanging out there for a very uncomfortable amount of time. I will be putting you and your crew at great risk and you should anticipate both damage and casualties. I want you to fight hard and make a good show of trying to run, but do not escape. It is the only way to draw out their larger assets.”

“I am not wild about being hung out as bait,” said Cruz.

“I was used as bait on my first mission with my first command,” Chekov responded. “And I was just about your age at the time. Although I was somewhat prettier than you... Remember, just because you can’t escape and you have to fight doesn’t mean you can’t fight smart. Fight the way I taught you and you have a reasonable chance of bringing most of your crew – and most of your ship home. Horoshaya ohota, Kapitan!”

Cruz rolled her eyes: “Da, nye zabood’ spasti moyoo zadnistsoo, Serge Mykel!”

Chekov broke into an uncharacteristic laugh. “Your Russian is atrocious, Sullivan Parker. But I fully intend to save your ass anyway. We will see you at the border. Milky Way out!”


On the bridge of the U.S.S. Milky Way, Captain Sullivan Cruz’s image had only taken up an eighth panel of the enormous main viewer. As her image was replaced by a view of the U.S.S. Intrepid jumping to warp, Captain Chekov walked forward from the captain’s chair to the tactical bullpen, located forward right and sunk into the floor so deep that most of the bullpen could not be observed from his perch at the back of the bridge. A group of eight officers sat in a ring facing outward at an unbroken, 360 degree viewer that wrapped around and under them. The spherical view was completed by a dome viewer in the ceiling of the bridge high above. Their seats and consoles were transparent and mounted on gyroscopic gimbals, allowing these officers to rotate a full 360 degrees.

A command chair was located in the center of this group – also transparent and mounted on gimbals so that the Milky Way’s tactical officer could coordinate the actions of the enormous ship’s multiple weapon systems as well as an accompanying squadron of long range interceptors. This seat was elevated to provide the tactical officer an eye-line to the ship’s captain as well as oversight of the stations inside the bull-pen.


“I know you are accustomed to leading from in front, Captain,” said Chekov to his recently promoted tactical officer. “Now you must lead from behind. Are you prepared for that? Can you still fight when you’re not out there with a phaser cannon between your thighs? Can you lead people into battle when you’re looking at their backsides?”

Captain Red swiveled her chair to look up at Chekov as if he were her target. “I am and I can. I would never have let you put me in this chair otherwise.”

“Don’t get comfortable in it.”

“Never.”


Chekov walked to the forward center of the bridge to stand between the tactical bullpen and a quartet of stations to the left arranged in a wing pattern – helm and telemetry forward and center, flanked by navigation and science stations respectively that were slightly swept back. Captain Chekov took up a wide stance, feet firmly planted, arms akimbo. “Lieutenant Combs, make your course for the orion border at warp factor 5.”

“Course laid in at warp factor 5, Captain,” the helmsman responded.

Chekov kept his eyes forward. “Captain Red, are your birds ready to leave the coup?”

“Aye Captain, all interceptors reporting course laid in, warp factor 5. My birds are ready, Captain,” Red responded.


“Then let’s get the flock out of here. All units – Engage!”



* Horoshaya ohota, Kapitan! (Good Hunting, Captain)

* Da, nye zabood’ spasti moyoo zadnistsoo, Serge Mykel! (Yeah, don’t forget to save my ass, Serge Mykel!)

16.2 (of 19)​

 

[Galen4]

I enjoyed the back story of the two captains. You've managed to flesh out their histories and personalities in a short amount of time. It says something about Cruz that she didn't mind being spoken down to by her former mentor on the bridge of her own ship.

The Milky Way is a fascinating vessel. Normally I don't go in for those massive "star craft carrier" ships that are popular is some types of fan fiction, but in this case, you've made the ship so interesting, I became hooked right away. in particular, the description of the bridge and its operations are well thought out.

Liking Chekov and his infamous play possum history. Not something fan fiction captains are usually noted for, at least not as a regular go to play, which is refreshing.

Curious about what time frame this is set in. Is it Picard era?


Waiting for the next part.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

...The Milky Way is a fascinating vessel. Normally I don't go in for those massive "star craft carrier" ships...
...Curious about what time frame this is set in. Is it Picard era?

Glad you're enjoying Pavel Chekov's wiley grandson and his new ship...

In Ep. 11, in a committee meeting with some powerful Federation Councilmembers (including Captain Minerva Irons' son, Ushi and former fugitive Emory Ivonovic) and Star Fleet Commandant, two new classes of starships - the Pegasus class (for which the U.S.S. Milky Way is the prototype) and the Atlas class planetary rescue ships (which will show up much later) were approved, along with a massive build request for the Prowler class (for which the U.S.S. Hunter is the prototype.)

I started writing the series before Picard was announced. Same time period - very different Trekverse. Commander Sela salvaged the Romulan Star Empire and saved 2 billion romulans from the wreck of the Hobus event, while simultaneously fighting off a klingon attempt at a land grab - rocketing her to the pinnacle of power and popularity - savior of the romulan people. She'll show up soon...

There's also something going on with Section 31 trying to obscure recent demographic population shifts within the Federation that will become significant in this episode.

Thanks again for following - hope you enjoy the ride! Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode: 16: Slavers
Scene 3: Self-Sealing Stem Bolts

16.3
Self-Sealing Stem Bolts​

Dr. Moon Sun Salek, the U.S.S. Hunter’s Director of Engineering, was gratified that her entire department were not only familiar with the name Dr. Geoffrey Horatio Alstars, but were familiar with his work and overawed by his presence. The theoretical math he had developed in his early 20’s that was the foundation of his doctorate in mathematics had transformed modern warp field engineering and the Crusher/Crumar/Carrera recursive warp engine would not have been possible without these equations. Most of Dr. Moon’s crew had at first assumed the new Ensign Alstars was a descendant of the great mathematician and not the actual article himself.

Rigellian chelna had no longer life expectancy than humans – less, actually, so Dr. Alstars’ apparently undiminished strength and vigor at his age was a surprise to everyone. He looked like an old man - the only evidence of his chelna heritage were his somewhat large gold eyes and slightly long incisors. He certainly didn’t walk like an old man. In addition to his well-documented mathematical genius, he had quickly demonstrated an instinct for engineering as well.


“What are you doing Engineer Gibbon?” Alstars asked in his booming, precise and rather bristly Oxford accent.

“Remounting the outer nacelle control panel to the primary control frame assembly,” Gibbon replied somewhat indistinctly, without looking up, his words slurred around something in his mouth.

“No, no, stop that!”

Flight Engineer Kerry Gibbon froze, still holding a large and quite heavy control panel in place with his knee, a bolt in one hand, rivet wrench in the other and holding two more bolts in his mouth.

Alstars, nearly 6’6”, crossed half of the main engineering deck in two great strides, reached out and put his large, wrinkled hand under Gibbon’s mouth. “Spit those out!”

Gibbon dropped the two bolts from his mouth into Ensign Alstars’ hand.

“These are self-sealing stem bolts! What are you trying to do, melt your teeth or weld your mouth shut?”

“I’m just trying to get this panel…”

“Put that down! No, wait, give me those tools first, and then put that down!”

Gibbon dropped the other bolt and the rivet wrench into Ensign Alstars’ large hands. Alstars set the tools aside, then grasped two of the handles on the control panel and helped the young engineer lower it to the floor. Once the panel was on the floor, Alstars, towering over Gibbon, rapped his knuckles lightly on the young engineer’s forehead.

“Hellooo?? Is there anybody in there?? I happen to know that there is a panel mounting horse in that cabinet...” Alstars gestured over his shoulder with his thumb. “And I also happen to know, because I checked, that it is fully equipped with not only all the clamps you need to keep that panel in place while you secure it to the primary control frame, but it also has all the movable trays and drawers you could want to keep tools and parts in so you don’t inadvertently swallow a white-hot rivet. But first you have to tell me why you were trying to mount a control panel that needs regular maintenance using self-sealing stem bolts?”

“I’ba, uhm…” Gibbon stammered, incoherently.

“That’s what I thought. You were using them so you wouldn’t have to drag out the mounting horse and do things the proper way. Save those self-sealing stem bolts for permanently mounted fixtures, get out the correct bolts, lugs and wrenches and do the job right, Mr. Gibbon!”


Alstars stormed off. He looked up and saw that Flight Engineer Yolanda Thomas had observed his encounter from deck one. He winked at her and went back to a holographically projected clear-board he had been scrawling equations on before scolding Kerry Gibbon. He scowled at his equations, then waved his hands impatiently at the clear-board.

“No, no, get rid of them.”

The equations promptly vanished.

“I haven’t had an original thought in 50 years and now everyone expects me to solve this riddle – how to get this whole blasted class of ships safely into recursive warp without artificial intelligence…” Alstars groused. He sighed, picked up a holographically projected black marker and started scrawling new equations, grumbling under his breath the entire time.

16.3 (of 19)​

 

[Galen4]

Thanks for this bit-sized morsal! It's great for those of us who are slow readers.
Alstars is a fun character and all the more interesting as he isn't the actual chief. (Unless I misunderstood.)

Interesting reference to the "Crusher/Crumar/Carrera recursive warp engine" too. Don't know what that is, yet somehow it seems a logical extension of warp technology. And without the spores. (ugh.) Also makes sense that Wesley Crusher had a hand in it.

Back to Alstars...yeah, would not want to mess with that feisty old dude. Bet he can still slap people around if the occasion calls for it. Oh, and the safety tip about self-sealing stem bolts is noted. I've been doing it all wrong.

Keep it coming!

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Alstars is a fun character and all the more interesting as he isn't the actual chief. (Unless I misunderstood.)

Thanks for the kind words and you are correct - despite being the hereditary Lord Wooten-Sandleigh, Nobel laureate, Order of Merit and having served 50 years as the Regius Professor of Mathematics at Oxford University, Alstars is a lowly ensign in the Hunter's engineering department, having joined Star Fleet because his cat died (for more backstory, see Episode 15, Scene 10.) Lt. Moon Sun Salek (who is Korean and part vulcan) is the Director of Engineering. Alstars reports to her assistant director, 2nd Lt. Sun Ho Hui (who is Vietnamese and parts vulcan and bajoran.)

Now is a good time to re-introduce a few of the main characters in Star Trek Hunter:

Hunter's captain, Justice Minerva Irons, despite her western name, is Chinese (and parts vulcan, trill and betazoid.) Irons is the only Star Fleet officer concurrently serving on the Federation Tribunal (as Appellate Justice at-Large) She is nearly 160 years old and has 29 children (by 4 different husbands) and upward of 100 grandchildren. She is the matriarch of an enormous family that is equal parts political dynasty and tong. She generally gets what she wants and is nearly impossible to say "no" to. (Which accounts for, among other things, her ability to put together an exceptional crew.) Aristocrat with a capital Aristocrat.

Hunter's director of flight operations, Lt. Commander Kenneth Dolphin is 52. After being fired from the NYC DA's office, Dolphin returned to Harvard for a Ph.D. in Ethics and was a professor in the Philosophy department until his books made things too hot for him. He washed up in Star Fleet, where he found he had a talent both as a pilot and an officer. His most infamous book is his dissertation, The Morality of Hybridizing Intelligent Species, which pointed out a loophole in the laws around genetic engineering, allowing human hybrids to receive modifications that would otherwise be illegal. The book ignited a firestorm that split nearly every Federation population in two, with long discredited opponents of hybridization reasserting themselves. Dolphin went on to piss off the vulcans with his 2nd bestseller: Pon Farr - The Vulcan Mating Cycle. His 3rd book, Fundamentals of Federation Ethics, is required reading for all Star Fleet Academy cadets.

Federation Councilmember Emory Ivonovic (67, introduced as Governor of the Colony of New Hope) was arrested for election fraud, escaped, became a fugitive from the Federation Tribunal, started the outlaw podcast, Subspace Radio Ivonovic, which fired up the Naturalborn movements even more, and culminated with an interview with Kenny Dolphin that became the most re-watched broadcast in federation history. Following that broadcast, for extremely involved reasons, Dolphin arranged for Ivonovic to be appointed to the Federation Council, putting him out of reach of the Tribunal (only the Federation Council could prosecute him - which, for political reasons, they don't. For more information, see Episode 10.)

Lt. Commander Sarekson Carrera (Chilean and part vulcan) was the U.S.S. Hunter's first director of engineering and invented the ship and its revolutionary engine, as well as designing its sentient AI (Hunter). Carrera was the lead designer, under the tutelage of his mentors Professor Jose Crumar and Wesley Crusher. An off-the-charts genius, Carrera eventually found it dangerous to be around warp engines and left the U.S.S. Hunter to follow in Wesley's footsteps. For details, see Episode 15.

Thanks again for following my series!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode: 16: Slavers
Scene 4: The Needs of the Many

16.4
The Needs of the Many​

“I am unconcerned about the judgement of history, Director. My only concern is to ensure that there will be someone left to read that history.” Vice Admiral Senvol stood next to the Director of Section 31, Chief Justice Julian Bashir. “You were wise to select your co-conspirators exclusively from those of my people who have completed the kolinahr. Which leaves only you wracked with such concerns as whether the preservation of all life in the Alpha Quadrant might be worth the things we must do.”

Both men were watching a live video feed of a stunningly beautiful romulan woman writhing and howling in agony. Her torment was not caused by anything so crude as physical pain. The ancient, blue-eyed vulcan in the room with her was such a powerful telepath and had spent so much time deeply enmeshed in her mind, that he no longer needed to touch her to initiate or maintain a mind meld. The ability to communicate telepathically without touch was exceedingly rare among vulcans. The ability to remotely initiate and maintain a mind meld - especially one powerful enough to completely dominate another mind - was almost unheard of.


“Chief Justice Scrivax has a rare gift, Julian,” Senvol continued. “A depth of understanding of the terrors that lurk deep in the soul and how to evoke them and turn them to his purposes.”

Bashir shuddered. He had grown gaunt and his skin had the unhealthy pallor of someone who spent too much time hidden from the light of day. “If he had not completed the kolinahr, I would think him a sadist.”

“The kolinahr replaces such emotions as satisfaction and gratification with an understanding of the long term implication of our actions.” Like the vulcan administering the torment they were witnessing, Vice Admiral Senvol was ancient - his face lined with age, his eyes green rimmed, his thinning hair turned a greenish gray. “My greatest concern is not for him, nor for her, but for you. By exposing yourself to every moment of Remma’s adjustment - the destruction and reconstruction of her personality - you endanger our desired outcome. And all of these things you agonize over may come to naught as a result.”

“Someone must, Senvol,” said Bashir. “You can no longer feel your emotions. Neither can Scrivax,” he added, gesturing to the ancient vulcan on screen, remotely controlling his lovely romulan victim. “You have purged your emotions through the kolinahr. But emotion must bear witness to the worst parts of what we do and still be able to say that it will be worth it. In a way, I have ordered her death - the death of her personality.”


“You have ordered me to my death as well,” Vice Admiral Senvol replied. “I go without hesitation. And I will take many with me.”


“That is different, Vice Admiral. You know why you must do it. You are a military man and the people you will sacrifice are under your command. I know that Remma is a monster. She has done terrible things for the Romulan Senate. She has tortured and killed just to further the petty grievances of one romulan politician against another.”

“Yet still you grieve for her?” Senvol asked.

“I was a doctor before I became a judge,” Bashir responded. "Before I became… Before I joined Section 31. Compassion was my first lesson. First do no harm.”

“The needs of the many, outweigh the needs of the few, or the one. Your responsibility as Director of Section 31 requires you to do harm. Deliberately. To do what is necessary because no one else can,” Senvol observed.

“I despised the man whose place I took,” said Bashir. “And now I have become him.”

“Luther Sloan was a good man. A tormented man. But a man with clear, moral vision and purpose,” said Senvol. “I trusted him with my life. With the lives of my people. All of my people. If you believe tearing yourself apart over the torment of this romulan woman is what you must do, then you are following his example. I saw him do much the same when harsh action was required. But this one woman’s torment is nothing compared to what lies ahead.”


The Director of Section 31 shuddered again. But he did not look away from the torment of their prisoner.

16.4 (of 19)​

 

[Galen4]

Uhh...I beg your pardon?

Bashir the head of Section 31? Wow, that's bold. I have to admit that my first impulse to say it's implausible. It means somewhere along the line he became a different person. He's managed to kill the person he was to support this new life. Selling his soul, as it were.

I don't see how he could have betrayed his principals to this extent. So the question would be, what trauma did he experience that led this change? And was it something 31 engineered to recruit him? If so, why did they want him so badly in the first place?

And while I'm at it, how do these chapters all fit together?

Questions, questions, sir.

I'll wait here patiently for more.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Luther Sloan wasn't recruiting Julian to be an agent. He was recruiting him to be the next director. And Sloan was very good at his job...

We saw Julian's dark side in the Statistical Probabilities episode (and he's relying on that box of geniuses again.) Julian joined S31 to bring the agency down from the inside. He got sucked into the belly of the beast. Once he found out what S31 was really working on, he was caught: "We'll solve this existential threat first, THEN I'll take them down..."

It was a very clever trap for Julian. There's always another existential threat. And Julian loves cloak & dagger - S31 missions are like crack to him. He easily became addicted.

S31 is an overwhelmingly vulcan affair - created by vulcans who had purged their emotions through the kolinar. It's founded in utilitarian vulcan ethics, encapsulated in the oft repeated canard: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few." Taken to its logical extreme, that philosophy reliably turns good people into monsters.

This is very much a S31 story, which naturally makes it a bit kaleidoscopic...

Thanks again for following!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Trek Hunter
Episode: 16: Slavers
Scene 5: Lord Wootton-Sandleigh

16.5
Lord Wootton-Sandleigh​

Dr. Geoffrey Horatio Alstars had started and re-started his equation four or six times - he had stopped counting - might have been eight… He sat on a track chair (locked securely in place, per procedure), long legs crossed, back straight, and ran his fingers through his thick mane of gray hair - still shot with a few reddish-blonde patches - which action made his hair stand out and gave him more than a little the look of an elderly and rather disgruntled lion. He took a sip of hot tea (in a safety sealed sip cup, per procedure) and grumbled under his breath, “Rome wasn’t built in a day…”

At that moment, Lt. Moon Sun Salek swept by, 2nd Lt. Gaia Gamor and Navigators Johanna Imex and Eli Strahl in tow, and said, “Flight engineers and officers to the engineering conference room. Now please!”

Alstars got up, quickly scrawled a few more characters onto the clear-board and headed toward the engineering conference room, located at the back of the engineering deck, directly underneath Dr. Moon’s office on deck one. He returned to the board, hastily scrawled a few more characters and stepped away again, then returned again, retrieved his teacup and set the marker on the clear-board. Then returned again to wave a frustrated hand at the board - “Discontinue hologram!” The clear-board and marker promptly vanished.


As Alstars settled at the conference table, which, like the walls of the room, was made of clear lacquer, Dr. Moon called for the ship’s interactive holographic avatar. “Hunter, please display the wreckage of the B.R. Prophet Motive.”

Alstars was gratified that the avatar had been designed after another elderly mathematician and engineer. He had only met Professor Jose Crumar a few times, but because Hunter had Crumar’s features, voice and mannerisms, he was much more relatable to Alstars than his engineers - all of whom (with the exception of Thomas Hobbs) seemed like children to him. Even Hobbs was only in his mid-50’s. With Hunter looking like Crumar, there was at least one other old codger running about that he could relate to.

It was rather odd that the hologram chose to appear as a 6” tall Lilliputian standing on the conference table, but that made it easy for Hunter to walk around the projection of the wreckage of a large runabout, finished in cardassian yellow, and point out the telltale signs that it had been destroyed by orion phasers as well as damaged by encounters with high energy plasma.


“The Prophet Motive was left adrift in the Badlands” Hunter said. “No personnel - alive or dead - were found aboard. There is evidence that the craft had carried three emergency EVA suits. All of these were missing. It looks like, before exiting the craft, one of the occupants fed the computer core into the torpedo tube and launched it. Particle remains indicate that it was launched into a plasma cloud, along with a photon torpedo…”

“They must have been desperate,” observed 2nd Lt. Sun Ho Hui. “I’m surprised there is as much of the ship left as it appears. Detonating a photon torpedo in a plasma cloud as big as the Badlands… That’s a really big, nasty explosion.”

“We are scheduled to rendezvous with a ferengi marauder, then we will be headed toward the Badlands,” said Dr. Moon. “For obvious reasons, we cannot use the zip drive inside a massive plasma cloud and it is likely, given the evidence of a torpedo launch, that the topography of the entire region may have changed. Once we are in the cloud, we will not be able to exceed warp 3 and we'll generally be restricted to impulse speeds in most areas. The U.S.S. Galaxy has been dispatched from Deep Space 9 to the border of the Badlands, where they will use their sensors and probes to re-map the region. We should rendezvous with the Galaxy in four days. Hopefully they will have a fairly comprehensive topography by then.”

Moon paused to take a drink of coffee (not in a lidded cup to Alstars’ silent dismay) before continuing. “Lieutenant Gamor has been assigned as our intermediary with Galaxy’s Stellar Cartography department. Hui, I want you to coordinate with their engineering department and gather everything they can pick up about the re-composition of the plasma fields and everything they can learn about effective shielding from their probes. Galaxy has already launched 400 probes into the Badlands and they will be conducting experiments with interaction between shields and the plasma cloud as well as using them for mapping.”

“How many probes does one of those old Galaxy class cruisers carry?” asked Yolanda Thomas.

“As many as they need,” Flight Engineer Thomas Hobbs replied. “The Galaxy class had factories installed during the last series of upgrades and now carry a large number of civilian manufacturers. They also had interceptor bays installed to carry eight of the new long-range interceptors.”

Alstars thumped the conference table impatiently, giving both of his engineers a warning glare.

“Hey! Careful with that finger,” said the 6” tall projection of Hunter, staggering slightly on the table and drawing a quick laugh from everyone except Alstars and Moon.

Dr. Moon cleared her throat. “I want all of you to study everything we have on the B.R. Prophet Motive and everything about the Badlands. You have four days to become experts on both of these. But not you, Sir Geoffrey,” Moon added, looking at Alstars. “Your project is top priority for Star Fleet.”

“If you please, Director, I prefer Ensign. We’re more than a thousand light years from Merry Old England and I would rather not have any of this Sir Geoffrey or Lord Wootton-Sandleigh silliness. At my age, Star Fleet Officer Candidate School was no picnic and I fancy the title I feel I actually earned.”

Lt. Moon smiled. “Understood and appreciated, Ensign. Before you go back your equations - and the rest of you to your stations, I need to notify Pep. We have received a broadcast from Star Fleet Operations, but Pep wanted this meeting to be complete before relaying it.” Moon unconsciously looked up as the communication system automatically adjusted to carry her voice to the bridge. “Pep? We’re ready down here.”


Commander David Pepper’s voice was heard throughout the ship. “All hands, please stand by for a broadcast from Star Fleet Operations…”

16.5 (of 19)​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

More STH leading characters:

Fleet Admiral Miriam Stewart, an 88-year-old African American from Atlanta, Georgia, is the 3rd ranking officer in Star Fleet (after Commandant Barrett th'Zoarhi and Chief of Staff Admiral Jamaal el Fadil.) Star Fleet's longest serving admiral, Stewart was promoted into the admiralty one year ahead of the nefarious Director of Star Fleet Intelligence, Fleet Admiral Alynna Nechayev (also 88.)

Commander Tali Shae, at 58, is in surprising health for a geriatric andorian. Her family arranged for her to serve in the coroner's office for her mandatory service in the Andorian Imperial Guard. After 6 years service, during which time she earned the AIG equivalent of a M.D., Tali Shae enrolled in Star Fleet Academy, joining the Office of Judge Advocate General first as a forensic medical investigator, then as a lawyer and retired at the rank of Lt. Commander. She was appointed to a 6-year term on the Federation Council, where she met and was befriended by Minerva Irons' son, Federation Councilleader Ushi Irons. She returned to Andoria and served as a judge for 3 years before being convinced by Minerva Irons to return to Star Fleet as the U.S.S. Hunter's Medical Director. The two women are best friends (and drinking buddies.)

Commander David Pepper, Hunter's 1st Officer (age 46), is African American on his father's side and part andorian, part orion on his mother's side. Many of his human ancestors were larger than the average orion male - as is he at about 7' and nearly 400 pounds. Despite his evident athleticism and expertise in physical combat, his primary interest is poetry - particularly klingon poetry. He was promoted to commander by the klingons during a 3-year stint in an officer exchange program and is widely admired by klingons for his scholarship. His Ph.D. in literature was awarded by Star Fleet Academy for his comprehensive analysis, compendium and translations of klingon poetry. He is a gigantic nerd.

 

[Galen4]

So, the plot thickens! The remains of the Prophete Motive have been discovered. And soon, our two wayward survivors will be found as well, I think. Interesting to see how these threads are gradually being sewn together.

“If you please, Director, I prefer Ensign. We’re more than a thousand light years from Merry Old England and I would rather not have any of this Sir Geoffrey or Lord Wootton-Sandleigh silliness.

Loving that. Don't stop now.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

So, the plot thickens! ...Interesting to see how these threads are gradually being sewn together...

Glad you're enjoying - Thanks for the reviews! rbs