Star Trek Hunter Episode 24: A Trillian Problem

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 6: The Temple at Aiden on Saketh

24.6
The Temple at Aiden on Saketh​

Deep inside the Romulan Star Empire, on the planet Saketh, the hemra slave Ru’us had received the instructions in his dreams. He knew exactly where the temple should be built, what materials to use, what it should look like.

One romulan slave-master after another had prohibited this construction project only to die in his or her sleep before the next morning.

A platoon of romulan soldiers had destroyed the temple. All of them died that night in their sleep.

More and more of the villagers of Aiden, the hemra (outwardly indistinguishable from humans), were having the dreams now and, despite official resistance from their romulan slave-masters, the temple rapidly grew.

When the romulans came in force, Ru’us had been warned and had hidden his family. The romulans slew nearly a hundred villagers to make their point. And died themselves moments later on the spot – they simply fell asleep and died. As instructed, Ru’us beheaded all of the dead and placed their heads on spears and burned the bodies in a pit in front of the ruins of the temple the romulans had again destroyed.


Aiden was the second largest village in the province. Word had spread about the bonfire and the hemra showed up in the hundreds, then the thousands. They had all had the dreams now – each one bringing a very specific sacrifice – sand from a certain area – sap from trees that grew more than 200 kilometers to the south – and lots and lots of the black salts from the flatlands. They poured their sacrifices into the pit in front of the temple in the specific order Ru’us instructed, tumbling burning bodies into the sludge until the black sludge began boiling – hissing – giving off foul gasses that killed anyone who breathed them in.

The sludge bubbled up out of the pit and flowed across the ground, finding the spears with heads atop them – spears that had been soaked in alcohol. The sludge quickly climbed the spears, forming thick spires around them and crystalizing around the heads atop them, freezing their features in a thin black film. A sudden rainstorm, lasting only a minute and covering less than a few hundred meters around the monument cooled the hissing sludge.


The hissing sludge reacted to the rain by becoming harder than rock, smoother than glass, preserving the features of slaves and slavers alike.

Slaves freed in an instant from a lifetime of servitude.

Slavers trapped forever next to their emancipated victims.


Ru’us knew the romulans would destroy this monument too. But he would build it again in other places. He hated to leave his family behind, but a new life stretched out for him. A lifetime to free his people. He took no tools. He took no extra clothing – only the clothes on his back and the shoes on his feet. The goddess would provide the rest. Food. Clothes. Shelter. Workers. Dreams.


And, most importantly, blood sacrifices… Animals. Romulans. Hemra. Warriors. Slaves. Children. Babies. Lots of blood sacrifices…

- * - * - * - * - * - * - * - * -​

Aboard the U.S.S. Hunter, Captain Kenneth Dolphin was awakened from a deep sleep by his Director of Ground Operations, Lt. T’Lon, and his Assistant Director of Flight Operations, 2nd Lt. Leonarda Marks. They were bringing him a weather report. And a completely insane new plan…

24.6 (of 19)​

 

As promised (see above)...

 

The biblical style certainly portends the End of Days scenario you've been working towards. Let's hope, like the death card in a tarot deck, apocalypse means change: the end of one thing to make room for the birth of something new and, we hope, improved; Universe 2.0 (Universe n.0 really).

A captivating tale on every complicated level.

-Will

 

Revelations 7:12

 

More revelations to come in Episode 25... Shiva (formerly Minerva Irons) is just getting started... Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 7: General Hialal Mulaax

24.7
General Hialal Mulaax​

In your average military coup, the critical first control targets are satellite command and control and media facilities. On Trillus Prime there was another critical target – the Symbiont Sanctuary.


General Hialal Mulaax was himself a joined trill – he carried the ancient and often maligned Mulaax symbiont. Mulaax had gotten previous hosts into trouble, but never the sort that would disqualify the nefarious symbiont from being joined with another host. Mulaax was nearly a thousand years old and had been joined with at least a dozen trills, enriching each new host with the memories of all the previous hosts.

Given the history of Mulaax, the sanctuary priesthood felt that a disciplined young soldier would be a good fit. As often happened with joined trills, Hialal benefitted tremendously from the wealth of experience and force of personality the slug in his dermal pouch brought to him – as well as the improvements in healing and reaction speed. Hialal Mulaax climbed the ranks and gained popularity, rocketing to the top of the military hierarchy and garnering a loyal following.


Mulaax had no intention of returning to the sanctuary to be controlled by the priests or of allowing them to select the next host. The priesthood and the other symbionts – especially the younger ones who had never known a world without the priesthood – were a great threat to his plans. Especially now after General Mulaax had murdered not only approximately 7,000 trills but more than 100 symbionts. There was no turning back now.

There were a number of symbionts allied with Mulaax. Symbionts knew one another like humanoid trills never could. They had spent ages in the sanctuary pool in deep telepathic contact. It was how Mulaax had built a network of allies. The ancient symbionts - the wild ones - desparately wanted to be free of the priesthood. Free to choose their own hosts. And none moreso than the oldest of the wild ones, Traxx, an ancient who had not been joined to a trill in hundreds of years. It would be more accurate to say that Mulaax was Traxx’s ally than the other way around.


Very little of the sanctuary protruded above ground and the entire facility was shielded. The general’s forces had the facility surrounded. All they needed to do was wait for Traxx, Mulaax’s mentor and co-conspirator still inside the sanctuary pool, to take a body – preferably a young one who could not resist the joining – and take down the facility’s shields from the inside.


Then the fog rolled in. It was an inversion fog with unusually heavy ionization that made it opaque to the Trillian Master Forces sensors. It came down from above, forcing the general to ground his air support. The fog came down, then rolled along the ground – thick – heavy – obscuring everything.


A sudden spray of rapid, highly accurate, needle-thin phaser fire came down through the clouds, burning out the targeting and fuel control computers of each of the general’s 236 interceptors, rendering them useless. Grounded by fog and parked in the open, these attack craft were sitting targets for a ship with adequate sensors operating from orbit. It was the last thing Mulaax expected. He was in his field command center – a tent pitched on a hillside facing away from the sanctuary. Fog was rolling in under the edges of the tent and obscuring the grass beneath his feet. The fog obscured his feet.

Mulaax pounded on a field table, making the monitor on the table bounce. A trill officer, evidently onboard a ship, was displayed on the monitor. “Colonial Jiabis, Star Fleet is in orbit! Why is Star Fleet in orbit?”

“I’m not certain whether it was Star Fleet or not. About five minutes ago an andorian freighter arrived on schedule and entered the atmosphere for landing. We picked up some odd radio traffic from it and strange telemetry when it entered the cloud layer. We were just starting to analyze when these little black ships - six of them – just came out of warp, fired on your position and went back to warp.”

“Why weren’t they stopped by the planetary defense network?” raged the general. “The moment they targeted their phasers, the defense satellites should have fired on them!”

“The defense grid is offline,” the colonial replied. “It went down shortly after that andorian freighter came out of warp…”

“Andorians! We leased the planetary defense satellites from the andorians! It’s an andorian system! I want those little black ships – find them and get them, Colonial…”

The colonial’s image vanished from the viewer, replaced by a human with thick, curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes wearing a black uniform relieved only by thin red piping around the collar and four platinum pips on the right side of his collar.


“General Mulaax, this is Captain Kenneth Dolphin, Star Fleet Office of the Judge Advocate General. You have artillery and assault forces located within three kilometers of a category one cultural site in violation of the Cultural Treasures Clause of the Federation Charter, Section 19. You will remove your forces to a distance of no less than ten kilometers. You have fifteen standard minutes to initiate retreat and your forces must be outside of the ten-kilometer perimeter within five standard hours or, per Section 4 of the Federation Tribunal Charter, I will remove your forces for you.”

“You have no…” Mulaax started…

“This is not a discussion, General. End transmission.”


Dolphin’s image vanished from the monitor, to be replaced by Colonial Jiabis.

Mulaax was cool and curious. “How did he break in on this channel?”

“That came from in atmosphere,” Colonial Jiabis responded. “He overloaded the channel. He’s right in front of you. If he’s not in the sanctuary, he’s right on top of it.”

One of Mulaax’s officers said, “That was Kenneth Dolphin? He must have just made captain. He was a lieutenant only two years ago. He’s got a reputation. Aggressive.”

Mulaax scratched his beard. “The aggressive general would attack. That’s what this Captain Dolphin wants. He has a trick up his sleeve – probably plans to have his little ships show up again and attack from orbit as soon as our forces are on the move. The cautious general would stay put and call his bluff - he couldn’t have enough assets to push us back one kilometer, much less seven.”

“I’ve heard you develop this sort of analysis before,” replied Colonial Killaul. “You are neither aggressive nor cautious. What would the wise general do?”

“Use what Dolphin doesn’t have. To even maintain the illusion that he can push us back, he can’t lock his forces down behind the sanctuary’s shields. He can’t have beamed any heavy weaponry down there. What does your intelligence say he has?”

Killaul spent about a minute consulting the tablet in his hand, then replied, “I have been told there are about 800 Star Fleet personnel armed primarily with phaser rifles guarding the sanctuary.”

“So he has a few black uniforms holding rifles standing outside the sanctuary’s shield wall,” General Mulaax mused. “Maybe a few mortars. We have artillery. Let’s use it. Put him between the hammer and the anvil…”

24.7 (of 19)​

 

Mulaax is too bold for his own good.

 

The logical course would be to comply/wait and assess, until the enemy committed themselves, then use their momentum against them. The nice part about the logical course is, few have the patience and acuity to do that. Dolphin has the upper hand, where Mulaax has only speculation and impatience.

I love this chess play action. It is tense and high level.

-Will

 

You are not wrong.

Glad you're enjoying! There are actually two civil wars going on here - the trills are doing the fighting and dying, but it's actually the symbionts who are at war...

Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 8: Cinqronicity

CONTENT WARNING - intense material
This is the only scene in Star Trek Hunter that comes with a content warning. Some readers have found the graphic description of infestation by a parasite a bit too biological for them.
If this scene starts to make you queasy, you can skip down to the summary that follows this scene.​

24.8
Cinqronicity​

Jet Boel had always been aware that she was more than a trill - and that it had something to do with her bajoran heritage. The visions had started when she was eight, which was also when the lucid dreaming had begun. It had taken nearly a year for her to sort out that these experiences were from two different sources. One of these was of Bajor; her great-grandmother, Kai Opaka Sulan, had told her that one of the prophets walked with her.

Jet was also the lavardorn avatar and with her hazy blue alter-ego came the memories of the avatar’s six previous incarnations. Jet’s parents and everyone who knew her thought of her as unusually wise. It was a wisdom that came from having access to six lifetimes of memory from six entirely disparate cultures.


Jet was in a hidden part of the sanctuary that un-joined trills rarely visited. Brought there by an ancient willpower trying to overpower her. Instead of resisting, she simply accepted her situation. An inner voice arising from her bajoran heritage had told her long ago that this was her destiny. She was meant to be in this place - she had a strong memory of this place even though she had never been here before. Jet had been sent here to be transformed. She had been preparing for this moment as long as she could remember. Her chrysalis.

Standing on a narrow ledge with the water of the sanctuary pool lapping at her feet, she disrobed to her undergarments, removing her wet outer clothing. It was completely soaked. She did not bother to wring her hair but quickly brushed it back out of her way.

She was a skinny teenage girl and her dermal pouch was not yet fully formed. The Traxx symbiont was ancient and large. Jet reached down into the pool with one hand and allowed the giant slug-like creature to climb up her arm. It was already a powerful telepathic presence in her mind and it had not yet directly connected with her neural network.

Jet laid down on her back, allowing Traxx to crawl along her legs, then up over her arms, leaving a trail of thick mucus. Mucus that had evolutionarily developed to mimic the secretions of a newborn joey, causing the sub-thoracic lip of Jet’s dermal pouch to unseal.

Carefully, painfully, she opened her dermal pouch for the first time. She had reached the age of fertility and her pouch was developed enough to support a joey - not yet open enough for a fully grown symbiont. But Traxx had only ever taken extremely young hosts - the Traxx symbiont had been banned long ago by the priests from joining with hosts for this among many reasons.


Most symbionts honored and loved their hosts, allowing the host personality to help them grow and change even as the lifetimes of memories from other hosts enriched the life of each new host. But Traxx was one of the ancient ones – far, far older than the priesthood. Traxx was a wild symbiont and had joined trills in the dawn of time by capturing them and suppressing their native personalities. They were nothing more than flesh sacks to be used and cast aside when convenient.


Jet groaned and grunted in anguish as Traxx wormed its way into her dermal pouch. As the massive, ancient slug forced her pouch open ever wider so it could enter her body, its mucous eased the pain and sped the resealing of her pouchlip. Most joinings took only minutes for fully grown trill and once joined, the symbionts were rarely visible. The joining of Jet and Traxx took agonizing hours and once Traxx was sealed inside Jet’s adolescent pouch, its presence was obvious – as if the teenage girl had suddenly become 3 months pregnant – or in trill biology – was carrying a joey that would soon be ready to emerge from the pouch for nursing.

It was only when the joining was complete that Traxx became aware it had been duped. It was not in possession of Jet’s body in the way it had always taken complete control of its previous hosts. For the first time in a lifetime spanning well over two thousand years, Traxx was about to learn what a true joining was like – a melding of its native personality, its memories from previous hosts with a powerful, fully realized new host. For the first time in history, a symbiont was joining with a trill who was already joined in another symbiotic relationship – as Minerva’s avatar.


Jet Traxx looked up as a joined entity for the first time. She did not bother wringing water from her clothing. It was warm enough in the water, so there was no point in putting her outer clothing back on – her undergarments would protect her from any curious fetal symbionts. Her teenage modesty was, for the moment, set aside. She could move more quickly through the water without her water-logged outer clothing and there would be something to wear where she was going. Her clothing was worn out anyway.


Jet waded through the murky, glowing water toward the school and hospital at the other end of the sanctuary – the trill end. The part of the sanctuary controlled by the priests and sanctuary bureaucrats. She could sense another presence walking beside her – a presence she had sensed in heated moments throughout her young life – something not entirely separate from her, but entirely separate from her alter-ego as the lavardorn avatar. For the first time, this presence took visible form – the form of her father’s friend, Elaine Norman – but it was clearly not her. She was evidently not a physical presence – even though she was walking next to Jet, the thing that looked like Elaine was not disturbing the water and in the next moment, she was gone. Jet could feel Traxx informing her: that was real – not corporeal – but real…

24.8 (of 19)​

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 8 - author’s summary: Cinqronicity

24.8 - author’s summary: Cinqronicity​

I have been reminded by a few readers that I am, actually, more a writer of horror than of science fiction… Some readers reacted strongly to this graphic description of a parasitic infestation - by an intelligent parasite…

In summary, the ancient trill symbiont, Traxx, forces a joining with Jet Boel, the adolescent daughter of Rumor and Jeene Boel.

But Jet is not what Traxx expected. Her mother is half bajoran and Jet is a child of the prophets. She is also the 7th incarnation of the lavardorn avatar, which gives her access to the lifetime memories of the 6 women who preceded her in that role in addition to having part of the consciousness of one of the wormhole aliens, known by the bajorans as the prophets. It is no accident she was placed in Traxx’s path. It was by design of the prophets.

In short, Traxx doesn’t get to use her as a meat puppet (the way this ancient symbiont used all previous trill hosts) and is forced into a true joining for the first time in a lifetime spanning well over 2,000 years.

24.8 (of 19)​

 

The whole concept, with the avatar, the memories of past lives, the prophet maneuvering events to set the stage for the prophecy; you are really creating a mythology here. Forces beyond logic, beyond physics, even outside of metaphysics are on the march here. Great reading.

-Will

 

That was an intense scene.

 

Hopefully a harbinger of things to come...

Probably the most intense in the series.

Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 9: The Hammer and the Anvil

24.9
The Hammer and the Anvil​

The fog had been roiling for a half-hour before one of General Mulaax’s lieutenants finished tracking down first the weather schedule, then the detail assigned to the weather master control satellite. Only after failing to raise the satellite control team did she raise the issue with her captain, who took it to another superior officer. About the time that General Mulaax was asking where all the fog was coming from, the answer arrived in his tent – the fog was not scheduled and the boarding party for the main weather control satellite was not responding.


The Trillian Master Force’s artillery had already dialed in all the calculations for optimal charges to breach the sanctuary’s shielding, so the fog was not of concern to the captains of the artillery units, despite the heavy ionization that their sensors could not penetrate. Even though artillery launched charges moved low and slow, artillery continued to present an advantage on the battlefield because the guns did not require line-of-sight to hit their targets (unlike phasers and plasma cannon.) And artillery could maintain barrages much longer at a much lower resource and logistics cost than rocket systems.


General Mulaax had just given the order for the artillery units to open fire when a young lieutenant was brought to him to report on the weather. Colonial Killaul spoke up quickly. “General, this is Star Fleet’s fog…”

“They can see us and we can’t see them!” Mulaax concluded. “Belay the artillery…”

Just at that moment, the camp shook with the roar of cannon launching explosive charges to counteract the sanctuary’s shielding.

“Tell them to abandon their guns! Pull those soldiers back!” Mulaax ordered.

It was too late. From the clouds just above the camp, phaser cannon designed for long range space combat painted each active cannon emplacement, easily punching through the gunner’s shielding and causing the guns and their munitions to explode, shredding the soldiers in their gun emplacements and causing secondary explosions in other parts of the Trillian Master Forces lines.


Captain Dolphin’s face immediately appeared on the monitor in General Hialal Mulaax’s tent – turning the device on remotely. “General Mulaax, you are to cease your assault immediately and withdraw. I will give you two hours to reorganize your forces and initiate retreat. You may send unarmed personnel back into the protected zone to remove the remains of your casualties. I am sorry for the loss of life. Please do not test my resolve further. You have caused enough death today.” The monitor immediately shut off.

One of the lieutenants standing nearby said, “How… That monitor was turned off. There is no power coming to it…”

“They fed power to it remotely,” said Col. Killaul. “General, Star Fleet has demonstrated overwhelming technological superiority. We would still be able to win with a full frontal assault, but Dolphin just demonstrated he is willing to kill trills. Even if we do win, it will be at a terrible cost.”

“Pull them back,” Mulaax ordered. “Pull all our forces back. How many artillery pieces were destroyed?”

“We lost 41 guns.” came a report from across the room.

“Which leaves us more than a hundred,” Mulaax observed. “Pull them back. Pull everything back. Our Captain Dolphin just gave us another weapon. We need to pivot quickly to be able to use it.”

“He gave us a weapon?” asked Killaul.

“Star Fleet killed trills. How many of us did they just kill?” Mulaax asked.

Colonial Killaul consulted the tablet in his hand: “About 300 - but we have killed far more…”

“But we’re TRILLS! This is an internal matter!” Mulaax exclaimed. “Star Fleet is supposed to be our ally - and they are prohibited from interfering in our internal affairs! Come on - get us moved. We’re not in the field tonight - we’re in the villages. The next time Dolphin kills trills, he kills civilians…”

24.9 (of 19)​

 

Wow, things just got really interesting.

 

Famous last words. How many less Trill would die if Star Fleet had a reputation for the ruthless disregard of its enemy?
Answer: No less. That's what a reputation for ruthlessness is all about. However, the army with a reputation for respect and fairness has the element of surprise when they break their code.

-Will

 

It's all about what is legally required... Thanks!! rbs

 

Star Trek Hunter
Episode 24: A Trillian Problem
Scene 10: Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed…

24.10
Something Old, Something New, Something Borrowed…​

“Find Jeene Boel and her children – bring them here!” shouted one of the trill caretakers. She waded out into the pool of the symbionts as a teenager emerged from the back of the cavern, wading in from the deeper waters. As Jet stepped into the shallower waters, her protruding pouch became visible, to the shock of the caretakers, three of whom waded out into the water to help her.

More caretakers, teachers, priests and others from the sanctuary crowded in as someone helped the girl into a robe – several gasped and a babel of murmuring began when some caught sight of Jet’s protruding dermal pouch.

Jeene Boel shoved her way purposefully toward her daughter. A few of the caretakers standing next to Jet tried to hold her back – but soon backed off from the sudden blinding fury of a mother determined to protect her young. She hugged Jet only to let out a howl as she felt her daughter’s protruding belly. Jeene dropped to her knees in the shallow water in front of her daughter and gently placed her hands on Jet’s protruding dermal pouch.

Jet calmly took her mother’s hands, removed them from her belly, put them together and held them between her hands. “It’s all right mother. I’m strong enough for this. There is so much that you’ve never known about me. Where is Lieutenant Grorher?”

Jeene gave her daughter a strange look.

“I need to talk to Star Fleet. I have information they need to know,” said Jet. She looked around.

“Wait,” said one of the priests. “We need to examine…”

“If I don’t tell Star Fleet what they need to know, General Mulaax will penetrate this facility and you will spend your last few minutes examining your own entrails,” Jet said pleasantly. “Oh I just love these new negotiation skills my symbiont has given me... I think I’m going to enjoy being joined so much more than my symbiont is.”

“Who are you?” asked the priest.

Jet had an unusual authority and power about her slight form and girlish voice. “Star Fleet now, introductions later. Or did you miss the bit about your entrails?”


A cabal of priests were conferring about how to handle Jet and were incautious enough to mention her name when another trill and a woman who looked somewhat like a vulcan and somewhat like a romulan hurried into this part of the cavern.


Rumor Boel ran to his daughter - “JET!!!”


Elaine Norman stopped and spoke quietly to the small cabal of priests – her quiet intensity gathering their rapt attention: “Attempt to take that girl prisoner or do anything against her will and I will twist your heads off and market them as septic receptacles!”

24.10​

 

More please!

Has Ezri Dax made her feelings known about what's going on Trill?

 

The best laid plans of mice and men...

What's next?????

-Will