TFV - Operation Vanguard (Chapter 4 continued)
The First Contact team materialized into a disconcertingly vast space that led them to wonder if they’d transported to the wrong coordinates. It took a moment to situate themselves, and as the team turned outward from their beam-in formation, Shanthi’s tricorder confirmed they were where they were supposed to be. The horizon, such as it was, curved up and away from them in both directions, causing a vaguely disorienting sensation when coupled with the brilliant azure sky overhead.
Elegantly rounded multi-story structures were interspersed with parkland, small lakes, and knots of forest-like growth in what was likely a representation of the builders’ home planet.
“The internal volume of this ring is almost exclusively habitat zone,” Shanthi observed, heedless in his astonishment that he was stating the obvious.
“Why didn’t we detect that before beaming over?” T’Ser asked, both irritated and alarmed at the irregularity.
“No clue, sir,” Shanthi replied numbly, his head craned upward as he directed his tricorder towards what was almost certainly a holographic sky. “Both our approach and transporter scans of this area detected a standard multi-deck structure.”
“Are we in a holographic environment?” Pell posited.
“No,” Ashok announced with certainty. “Though the sky is a holo-projection, everything else around us is as it appears, Commander.”
“We’re being scanned,” Shanthi noted quietly.
A long minute ticked by before a door to one of the structures a dozen meters away opened and a quartet of figures scurried out into the simulated daylight. They were arthropods of a sort, sheathed in an exoskeletal shell, with six legs that clacked against the textured flooring as they approached. They bore a striking resemblance to Terran scorpions, minus the pincers and barbed tail. The creatures varied in coloration from a dusky yellow to burnt orange.
Atop each of these beings in the center of its back was a vaguely humanoid head, though it appeared distorted and almost cadaverously grotesque to the visitor’s aesthetics. The head was flanked by two arm-like appendages that ended in mechanical looking grasping digits.
“We bid you greetings,” one of them spoke through a mouth of horrifically misshapen teeth. The voice emerged as a hissing, screeching, wetly bubbling cacophony that was mercifully translated into Federation standard by their communicators. “We are the Habertaem, leaders of the Custodial Council and administrators of this station. I am DuaNam, Chief Secretary of Alien Relations.”
T’Ser inclined her head towards the speaker as she struggled against a wave of revulsion that shocked her with its visceral power. “I am Commander T’Ser, representing the United Federation of Planets.” She turned to introduce the others. “This is Lt. Commander Pell Ojana our diplomatic officer, Lieutenant Shanthi our science officer, our chief engineer Lieutenant Ashok, Lieutenant Taiee from our medical division, and Lieutenant Verrik our security officer.”
The ghoulish head atop the Habertaem diplomat turned to inspect each of them in turn as T’Ser identified them. “Welcome to you all,” DuaNam gurgled happily as its large, dark, moist eyes blinked languidly. “Please accompany us to our council chambers, where you may meet representatives of the other species that comprise the Quorum.”
The away team fell into step alongside the Habertaem. T’Ser couldn’t explain her nearly reflexive repulsion towards the otherwise friendly aliens. She hoped it was not readily apparent to the Habertaem, or to the other members of the team for that matter.
Glancing around at her comrades, T’Ser found they too appeared troubled. Ashok’s hand rested at his waistline where his holstered phaser would normally have been. Even the ever-implacable Verrik looked vaguely unsettled.
As if reading her mind, DuaNam voiced, “Please do not be alarmed if you are experiencing some discomfort in our presence. That is a perfectly natural reaction to the Habertaem form.”
“Uh… really?” Pell stammered, clearly startled by the unexpectedly candid revelation. “You’ve encountered similar reactions in others?”
“Nearly all bipedal species, and quite a few quadrupeds and multiforms as well.” DuaNam’s mouth flapped wetly and expelled a whistling, stuttering noise that T’Ser realized was almost certainly laughter. “It is a byproduct of the genetic modifications carried out on us by our former overlords.”
“Overlords?” Pell asked, letting the question hang there without probing further in case it was a taboo subject.
“Most of the sentient species in this region were conquered by a malevolent, imperialistic race called the Husnock,” DuaNam explained as he trundled along, leading the others on a pathway through an idyllic grove of auburn connifer-like trees. “It was not enough for them to merely rule over us, for they were endlessly cruel and capricious. They burned some worlds to ashes. Other races were hunted for sport unto extinction. The Zarl were blinded, all ten billion of them, by an engineered virus. They were left to flail in darkness as their civilization crumbled around them for the Husnock’s gleeful amusement.”
A picturesque brook now ran alongside the path, its clear waters splashing and burbling soothingly, an incongruous counterpoint to DuaNam’s chilling story. “My people had been renowned as artisans and musicians. We were graceful, delicate bipedal creatures, and the Husnock were envious of our beauty. They though it would be entertaining to genetically re-engineer us into the repugnant forms that stand before you. We are not simply visually repulsive, you see; our bodies actually excrete a pheromone that incites revulsion in nearly every species we’ve encountered.”
The Habertaem had offered the horrific anecdote so casually that the Starfleet contingent was caught completely off guard, unable to muster an appropriate reply to the tale of such brutality. T’Ser looked to Pell, who only winced in silent reply as she struggled to say something that wouldn’t sound hopelessly trite.
Pell finally cleared her throat, uttering, “I’m very sorry to hear of such barbarity inflicted upon your species and others. My world was occupied and ruled over by others in a similar fashion for decades, so I have some limited understanding of what that experience is like.”
“Yes,” DuaNam expelled a long breath that sounded like a death-rattle, which T’Ser took to be a sigh. “It seems that malice is the one constant in the universe.”
“The Husnock,” T’Ser queried, “may I ask what happened to them?”
“Nobody knows,” DuaNam said. “Twelve years ago they simply vanished, every single one of them. Their cities, their ships, habitats and fortresses, all remained intact and untouched. We don’t know if they suddenly evolved en mass into another form, though I cannot think of another species less deserving of such a magnificent destiny. Others believe the Husnock finally provoked a species vastly more powerful, and they were annihilated as a result.” DuaNam’s head turned one-hundred eighty degrees to inspect the Starfleet officers, like a ghastly creation from a pulp horror-hologram. “Perhaps there really is a supreme deity who’d finally stomached as much of the Husnock as she could take. Regardless, we are well pleased they are gone.”
Shanthi was tapping furiously at his tricorder as DuaNam spoke, trying to cross-reference the elements of the alien’s dark tale. As they walked the grove of trees parted to reveal a large, beautifully crafted oblong structure topped by a crystalline dome that fairly blazed in the artificial sunlight.
“The Quorum House,” DuaNam explained as it and its brethren moved for the entrance. “It is here that some of the species who lived under the Husnock’s lash have gathered to govern in peace and share the potential of what the Husnock bequeathed to us.”
“Only some of them?” T’Ser prompted.
“Unfortunately, yes. You see, when the Husnock vanished, the various slave races seized control of their warships and the other armaments the overlords left behind. Some wanted power for themselves, while others wished to crush their neighbors for perceived collusions in the Husnock’s crimes.”
“Civil war,” Pell said dourly.
“Indeed,” DuaNam agreed as giant, ornate wooden doors parted to reveal a grand, gilded auditorium bathed in a rainbow of colors courtesy of the crystalline prism above. Inside, in agonizing contrast to the splendor of the decor, a nightmarish mass of sentience writhed, scuttled, slithered and pulsated, the legacy of the Husnock’s appalling creativity given life in dozens of hideous forms.
“We have been at war ever since, and not even the arrival of the barbarian fleets could convince the various factions to sue for peace.”
T’Ser and the others steeled themselves as they entered this lowest level of Dante’s Inferno, determined to show the assembled species the compassion, patience and understanding of the United Federation of Planets.
“Still think diplomacy is easy?” Pell whispered softly enough that only T’Ser’s Vulcan hearing could discern the Bajoran’s ironic quip.
*****
Even I made the connection and I haven't seen any episode of Trek in years. (Uh, maybe I shouldn't say that out loud in here...)
