YES - Fragile: Star Beagle Adventures episodes 7-11

[BountyTrek]

The away team are knee deep in the shuttle full of manure now.

Very useful MacGuffin to trash all their technology as well. Killing off the cultural contamination plot hole in one swift motion (hopefully!).

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The away team are knee deep in the shuttle full of manure now.

Very useful MacGuffin to trash all their technology as well. Killing off the cultural contamination plot hole in one swift motion (hopefully!).

You would think that if preventing cultural contamination was such a priority, that they would have done something like that after the first communicator went missing...

Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 12: Saving Trader Pel

Catching the swirling wind, the sailor sees the rim of the land...

7.12
Saving Trader Pel​

Neither Lance Corporal Petra Spitze nor PFC Raanda Habib could understand the harsh screeching noises made by the eadh, nor the whining, yowling noises made by the oeast, although they clearly seemed to understand each other. However, as harsh and alien their vocalizations, the body language of the new intruders was clear, furtive moves, slippers and cloaks offered by the oeast…


This was a jail break.


Raanda had the presence of mind to inform their fellow marines, unseen in an adjoining room, with a quick series of knocks, before accepting the new clothing and allowing herself, along with Spike, to be rushed out of their makeshift cell. The oeast demonstrated how to use the hoods that came with the cloaks, then activated and handed each of the two, now cloaked marines, a broach.

On attaching these broaches to their cloaks, both Spike and Raanda suddenly found that the alien screeching and yowling resolved into plain English:

“We must rescue the teacher,” the eadh said.

“Our friends are in the next room,” Raanda said as they exited the cell. Her heart dropped as she realized that the adjoining cell containing the male marines was still separated by a wall.

“We can’t get there from here,” responded one of the oeast. “It would take more than an hour, time we don’t have, to find a corridor that leads to that compartment.”

“You’re too tall,” the second oeast said to Raanda. “Hunch down or you’ll get noticed. Both of you.”

It was only now registering with the two young marines, as they hunched and allowed their rescuers to lead them through a twisting maze of what were clearly back and maintenance corridors, that both their oeast rescuers and the eadh who seemed to be leading them were females.

Raanda pointed at her broach. “These must be some sort of universal translators.”

“Yes,” responded one of the oeast. “You have spoken enough since your arrival that the Roundabout language matrix was able to add your language and update our translators with it. It was also able to identify the teacher’s language - a derivative of the language of the teachers…”

The eadh stopped them. “The teacher is in a room just ahead. She is damaged and in trauma. One of you will need to carry her. I will tranquilize her.”

“I’m bigger and stronger than you, Spike,” said Raanda. “I’ll carry Pel. Besides, if there’s any fighting, you’re the better fighter, so we need to keep your hands free.”

“If you are a good fighter, I may need your help,” said the eadh. “There will be at least one guard in there with her.” She held up a simple looking device. “Electronic key.”

“Unlock the door and wait for the guard to investigate,” said Spike.

The eadh fluffed her feathers and clacked her beak-like mouth twice.

“That means ‘yes’,” whispered one of the oeast women.


Spike and the eadh took up positions on either side of the door. The eadh activated her device, the door unlocked and opened just slightly.

A moment later, a curious oeast guard opened the door to look out into the hall, only to be yanked out into the hall by the eadh and slammed into a wall. Twice. After the third violent encounter with the wall, the guard slid to the floor, unconscious. At that same moment, a second guard rushed out, only to be caught painfully between the door and the door frame as Spike slammed the heavy, metal door on him. He, too, slid senseless to the deck.

The only weapons the guards carried were heavy, metal batons. The eadh handed one of these to one of the oeast. Spike armed herself with the other and opened the door wide. She hurled the baton into the room, and followed it, slamming into a third guard who had ducked to avoid the baton, only to be completely unprepared for a full body assault by a very pissed off U.S. Marine.

Spike grabbed the guard’s head fur with both hands, bending him down as her knee came up into his chest, then sent him stumbling, bent over, across the room, where he encountered another very pissed off marine… Raanda delivered two solid jabs to the side of his head and he dropped, unconscious, to the floor.

The eadh was already to a shocked and still wailing Pel. She made some squawking noises that might have been her species’ equivalent of a shushing noise, as she uncapped a small bottle and held it under the distressed ferengi’s nose.


“Oh, Pel…” Randa started, then realized that the tiny, completely naked ferengi was not what she had expected… “You’re a… girl??”


“Pick her up and let’s get her out of here,” Spike ordered. “Rescue now. Questions later.”

PFC Raanda Habib picked the tiny, now unconscious ferengi up into a fireman’s carry. Spike helped her drape her cloak around Pel as they quickly exited the room.

“I hope you have a retreat strategy,” Raanda said.

In response, the eadh unlocked several doors, then backtracked to take one of the revealed corridors.She unlocked a second door in this corridor and one of the oeast locked it behind the group as they scurried down this narrow tube, occasionally having to pass Pel back and forth to get through extremely narrow passages.

It took nearly an hour before they ended up entering through what appeared a rear entrance to a room filled with eadh and a few oeast. These were clearly group quarters and Raanda was finally able to lay Pel on a bed in a back room. She stayed with the tiny, unconscious ferengi, along with yet another oeast, this one male, who began treating the wounds on Pel’s head, neck and face where the prosthetic ears that had made her appear to be male had been anchored.


Spike remained in the outer room with the group of eadh warriors. One of these provided her some clothing, which she pulled on under her cloak. It was rather tight.

“The largest clothing we could find for you,” apologized one of the oeast. “You marines are much, much larger than our people and you’re constructed a little differently. I’m sorry we weren’t able to retrieve any of your clothing or possessions.”

The eadh warrior who had rescued Spike, now brought her some water. “I am Nalancessel. You have met my grandfather. How is the teacher?”

“His... Her name is Pel,” said Spike. “And I really don’t know. What did you give her?”

“A mild sedative,” Nalancessel replied. “She should wake within the next hour. My grandfather told me to keep an eye on the teacher to keep her from harm. There are many religious factions here. You and your friends were captured by a warrior faction. We were unable to rescue the others. They will be made to fight each other in the ring. I can only hope they don’t fight like you just did. The punishments for breaking the sacred rules of the ring are quite harsh…”

7.12​

 

[Bynar0110]

I finally caught up reading. I been enjoying the updates. Just dealing with writer's block.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 13: Reverse

One mile over, we'll be there and we'll see you...

7.13
Reverse​

Shortly after learning that PFC Raanda Habib and Lance Corporal Petra Spitze were being rescued by an unknown party, 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin, Sgt. Chavez Lone Wolf, and PFC Sasha Soko were removed from their cell by what were quite clearly their well-armed and determined captors. Each of the marines was given a medallion that included a translator, allowing them to understand their captors’ instructions.

Being U.S. Marines, they carried on their own conversation with a very subtle sign language. At the moment, Lone Wolf and Soko were following Pushkin’s lead - which was to comply with their captors and play for time. All three men were naked with the exception of the sports guard over their genitals. Being large, heavily muscled young marines, none of them seemed disconcerted - if anything, they were taking the opportunity to furtively flex and show off a little.

The three men were led through a winding series of ancient corridors and airlocks long frozen open from disuse, into the stadium. One of the oeast captors wrapped an arm around 2nd. Lt. Pushkin and placed a knife against his neck. Iov Pushkin relaxed.

“You two, into the ring,” said another oeast to Soko and Lone Wolf.

“Do what they say,” Pushkin said, quietly, then: “Remember the rules.”

“Begin!” said one of the oeast captors as the two young marines squared off in the ring.

“Open hand grappling only,” said Sgt. Lone Wolf as he and Soko began circling each other. “No striking with hands, feet, knees, or elbows.”

Lone Wolf was dark skinned, with a wiry brush of jet black hair, and bright blue eyes. He was about 2” taller and nearly 40 pounds heavier than the young, blonde private, but his primary advantage was experience. Within moments of the two engaging, Sgt. Lone Wolf had PFC Soko locked down and on the sandy floor.

2nd. Lt. Iov Pushkin easily removed the knife from the hand of the oeast who had been holding it at his neck. He flipped the knife easily in his fingers, then handed it back, hilt first, to his captor. “My turn,” he said simply, and walked out onto the ring. He knelt and patted the pinned Sasha Soko’s shoulder, then helped him up as Lone Wolf released him.

“Schedule some individual combat training when we get back shipboard,” Pushkin said to Soko.

Soko came to attention and saluted: “Yes sir!” Then walked off to rejoin the oeast that had been holding the knife at Pushkin’s neck. “You might as well put that away,” Soko said to his captor. “I’d prefer not to have to take it away from you again.”

The oeast glared for a moment, then reconsidered as Soko, while younger, was considerably larger than the 2nd lieutenant. He sheathed the knife and took up a stance just within arm’s reach of the young marine.


Iov Pushkin was a fairly large man, but even at 6’0” and 210 pounds, he was nowhere near as large as either Soko or Lone Wolf. He had an odd combination of fair skin, light brown hair and vaguely Asian facial features. He was only a few months out of Quantico and was a year younger than the experienced (and quite large and muscular) first sergeant who reported to him. Pushkin was a champion wrestler and his long training in the sport made him a far more challenging opponent than PFC Soko.

But in addition to Lone Wolf’s overwhelming advantages in size and strength, was the experience of grappling for his life in desperate battles with klingons, cardassians and gem’hadar. It took several minutes for Lone Wolf to pin his commanding officer down, but after the first few minutes, the eventual outcome was hardly in any doubt.

“I’m sorry, sir. But they mean to put us seriously in harm’s way,” Lone Wolf said to his pinned superior. He helped Pushkin to his feet. “I have to go first.” He bumped fists with his commanding officer, then saluted sharply.




In her quarters aboard the U.S.S. Beagle, T’Eln, the ancient premiere emeritus of the Vulcan Science Academy was deeply enmeshed in a mind meld with the betazoid Dr. Tentis Uto. Uto had taken a series of treatments to detoxify from his addiction to sog and T’Eln was helping him not only build up his defenses against the overwhelming noise of undisciplined minds around him, but also to sharpen his focus and realize some of the abilities that his unusually powerful telepathy might make available to him, well beyond the abilities of most of his species.




On the bridge of the U.S.S. Beagle, Lt. Cmdr. Senek removed an earpiece from its mount on his panel and placed it in his ear, then turned to obtain his captain’s attention:

“Captain, we are receiving a transmission from Lance Corporal Petra Spitze, audio only.”

“Let’s hear it,” Captain Skip Howard replied from the command throne in the center of the triangular bridge.

“Repeat, this is Lance Corporal Petra Spitze, requesting rendezvous coordinates.”

“Spike, this is the U.S.S. Beagle, Skip Howard commanding. What is your situation?”

“Captain, I have Trader Pel and Private First Class Raanda Habib with me. We are in an eadh shuttle, owned by the Greater 1st Realm Regency and are seeking rendezvous coordinates to transfer myself, Pel and PFC Habib into your custody. 1st Realm Regent Martial Nalconi sends his regards and hopes at some future date to make your acquaintance.”

“You may relay that I look favorably on that potential and pass along my regards. Be advised that the U.S.S. Bluebird will be dispatched to rendezvous with you. We are sending coordinates now.”

“Thank you, sir. Please send along medical personnel. Trader Pel has been treated for wounds related to the removal of prosthetics, but is in need of additional medical attention.”

“Copy that,” Howard responded. “Well done, Spike. Safe travel to your rendezvous and I will look forward to attending your debriefing. Beagle out.”

7.13​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 14: Precognition

The eagle's dancing wings create as weather spins out of hand...

7.14
Precognition​

“How is Teacher Pel?”


The powerful, brightly feathered eadh courtier, Martial Nalconi, was meeting with Commodore Yui Song, Captain Skip Howard, and General Krank aboard the U.S.S. Mako. Not to be outnumbered, Nalconi had brought his granddaughter, Nalancessel, and a blind priestess named Calandrass, whose exceptionally large feathers ranged from crimson to cobalt blue. She seemed to be in a trance from the moment she boarded the ship.


“It is still Trader Pel,” Skip Howard rejoined. “Recovering from the pain of mistreatment, but still emotionally traumatized by it.”

“You have a mighty ship, Captain Ronald Howard the Fourteenth,” Nalconi replied. “And I suspect you have more than one. You would not be the first powerful visitors to the Oulheadhry. There have been many who thought themselves so powerful that they could ignore the realities of this place. I sincerely hope you are not so arrogant as to make that mistake.”

“What are these realities that we must recognize, Martial?” asked General Krank.

“It is no longer Trader Pel. It is now Teacher Pel,” said Nalconi. “As long as you are in the Oulheadhry, you are the protectors of a Teacher, something not seen in the Oulheadhry in nearly a thousand years. Teacher Pel must accept her new role. A role that until recently, I was completely unaware of. And you must accept your new role. A legend walks among you.”

“At the moment, my first priority is to get my people back,” said Captain Howard.

“You cannot do that,” Nalconi replied. “They are now your champions. They have been entered into the games.”

“Against their wills,” Howard rejoined.

“That is of no consequence,” Nalconi intoned. “Teacher Pel told me your priority was to not destabilize the Oulheadhry. Remove your champions and war will erupt among the religious factions at the heart of Roundabout Station. But war will not stay there. It will spread.”

“The men who were taken into the ring are not champions,” said General Krank. “They are warriors. They are trained to kill.”

“We do have a champion,” said Captain Howard. “If we were to enter him into the games, could our abductees be returned?”

“The Regent might endorse such an exchange, but the faction who took your people would never honor the exchange. They would gladly take another champion for the games. But they would not release the others.”

“We send our champion in exchange. We take our people back without asking,” said General Krank.

“I will ask the Regent to endorse that scheme,” said Nalconi. “But our people cannot be involved. At least not directly.”


Calandrass, the blind priestess, suddenly drew a shuddering breath. Her feathers bristled out, turning to expose more crimson. The other two eadh fluffed their feathers in surprise as the priestess spoke, her voice croaking with disuse:

“The Golden Darkness comes!”


“Golden Darkness?” asked Captain Howard and Commodore Yui, almost in unison.

“What does she mean?” asked Krank.

Nalconi and Nalancessel both flattened their feathers to their heads, then fluffed them back up. “I have no idea,” said Nalancessel. “This is the first time in my lifetime that she has ever spoken.”

“She will not tell us what she means,” Nalconi added. “But one thing I can tell you…”


“The Golden Darkness comes!!!” Calandrass announced. Again.


“She’s going to keep saying it for a while,” Martial Nalconi concluded. “And it won’t be long before everyone is saying it.”


General Krank turned toward Commodore Yui and Captain Howard: “I have an idea…”

7.14​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 15: Deep Mapping


Twenty-four before my love and you'll see, I'll be there with you...

7.15
Deep Mapping​

The liberation and return of Trader Pel, Lance Corporal Petra Spitze, and Private First Class Raanda Habib by an eadh regency was a tremendous boost to morale within the Beagle Task Force and also a tremendous boon for the rescue planning.

First, it cut the number of individuals needing rescue in half. And those that remained imprisoned on Roundabout Station were three well-trained marines, including a highly experienced NCO who was a veteran of two wars.

The rescue team would be headed up by another couple of war veterans, Lt. Jim Whitesand and Sergeant Manuel Guerra, along with their team, Privates First Class Robert Stevens, Marcia Salt, Kari Winters and Savage St. John. With the exception of Manny Guerra, the entire team was African American, and, like most U.S. Marines, tended to be somewhat larger and considerably more muscular than the average American.

These marines were gearing up for the mission in their dedicated mission room, located near the shuttle bays near the stern of the U.S.S. Beagle. The equipment they were laying out and putting through mission prep inspection included darkops visors, phaser rifles, spitfires, suspensor nets, transport enhancers, hologrenades, a pair of dogfish, and an exchange in uniform from the standard gray and brown fractal camouflage in favor of interactive, subdued camouflage armor. In its inactive state, this armor was a dark gray.

-*-​

Inside Pel’s Shuttle, Spike was leaned back in a seat, alternately massaging her temples and sipping a cup of cold sog. Commodore Yui Song, Captain Skip Howard, and Major Janet Carter had attended Spike’s debriefing. But not the deep mapping debriefing that had followed - that was left to the exclusive talents of Falok with only Marine Captain Osollaa sh’Zhiathis to supervise.

Now it was PFC Raanda Habib’s turn.

A very nervous Raanda sat facing Falok, the young vulcan astrophysics team leader. The young vulcan framed the young marine’s face with his fingertips: “My mind to your mind: Your thoughts to my thoughts…”

-*-​

Commodore Yui, Captain Howard, and Major Carter had moved on to the probe lab, where they joined Dean Sakura Nakamura Holland and a very annoyed Lt. Cmdr. Senek to listen to a very excited Sgt. Tommy Richards:

“There is no indication that any of these people have ever encountered transporter technology. But the station is fully shielded at all times due to a fair amount of orbital debris, which makes beaming anyone in or out very problematic. It also makes scanning difficult. Difficult, but not impossible…” Richards brought up a number of displays. “As you can imagine, there isn’t a single screening system. There are layers of different screens, using different screening technology, covering different parts of the station and they overlap. Where mismatched technologies overlap, regular gaps in the screens occur due to uncorrected harmonics.”

“If there were a single authority for providing this screening, problems like that might be worked out. But the bureaucracy that provides the screening is a hodgepodge of departments and individuals representing different political units in different parts of the station,” Richards continued.

“Make a long story short, Tommy,” Captain Howard interrupted. “Do we have a map of the deep interior the station? And can we beam people in and out?”

“We have a very comprehensive map, thanks to a combination of our scanning and the very detailed maps provided by our fine, feathered friends. But we do not yet have the exact detail on how that mapping matches up to the descriptions we have of where our people were last known to be. I’m hoping the vulcans can help us with that, once they finish digging around in Spike’s head,” Richards replied. “As for beaming people in and out, that can only be done at specific locations.” He touched a control and locations on the map lit up. Thousands of them.

“There are about 3,000 locations. That may sound like a lot until you remember just how big this station is. And we will have to coordinate the transporter cycle with the unique harmonic shield overlap convergence cycle for each individual location. Some locations cycle 2 or 3 times a minute. Some cycle 2 or 3 times an hour. Some cycle 2 or 3 times a day.”

Howard turned toward the Beagle’s Dean of Ship. “Sakura, how about the holotransporter? Can it get through that shielding?”

“No, not directly. I mean, yes we can do it, but it’s going to take some serious math,” the lovely Japanese woman replied. “I could use your help. You and Senek. Tommy and Janet will have their hands full here. We’ll have to program the system to transport continuously through the various weak points… pretty much all over the station… as each one cycles in turn. It’s not going to provide a clean projection by any means, but for what you and Krank described to me, it doesn’t really have to be.”

-*-​

In the U.S.S. Beagle’s Medical Center, Trader Pel was in a curtained area, receiving more restorative surgery from Dr. Bettes Uto, the assistant medical director.

“Your skin took some serious and deep damage in areas where, because of your continual use of prosthetics, the skin is always inflamed. This caused a few tumors that had to be removed. I strongly advise against applying prosthetics for at least three weeks so that you give these areas time to heal.”

Pel was even more distressed. “I can’t remain hidden for that long!”

“Have you considered reconstructive surgery, to make the changes permanent so that you don’t have to use prosthetics?” Dr. Bettes Uto asked. “We would still need some time for you to heal, but the reconstruction could start in a few days.”

“I don’t want to be male!” Pel almost wailed. Then she realized she was only separated from the rest of the medical center by curtains and quickly lowered her voice. “When I take the ears off, I’m me. I can only be me in private. I have to pretend to be male in public.”

“You don’t have to pretend with us, Pel,” Bettes retorted. “Everyone in this task force would accept you as female. It might take them a few days for them to get used to it, but no one would think anything less of you for it. Everyone would understand.”

“But I want to go home,” Pel said, quietly, but fervently. “Maybe the Grand Nagus will change things and I can go home as a woman, and be me, and still do business. But maybe he won’t manage to do that. Too many people in this task force already know about me. It would get out. Too many people know…”

-*-​

In another area of the Medical Center, two more betazoid doctors, Mistroya Utru and Macerio Rossel, along with two medical engineers from Nakamura Enterprises, Mimi Minimari and Diya Mody, were all busy with an enormous, extremely delicate and extremely detailed full body tattoo. Their enormous patient was stretched out on the table and rolled over as instructed to accept this painful and extensive procedure. Fingers, toes, elbows, ears, eyelids, scalp… no body part had previously been tattooed, and every part was now being tattooed…

-*-​

In premiere emiritus T’Eln’s quarters, the series of mind-melds between the ancient vulcan and the betazoid Medical Director, Dr. Tentis Uto, entered its 29th hour…

7.15​

 

[BountyTrek]

Always like a good ‘planning the plan’ montage. I have faith in Krank’s idea.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 16: Rough Crowd

Go closer, hold the land
Feel partly no more than grains of Sand...

7.16
Rough Crowd​

“They want us to put on a show. The fighting has to be real, but we need some showmanship as well.”


Private First Class Sasha Soko and Sgt. Chavez Lone Wolf were far from enthused. Their expressions made it clear to their commanding officer that he needed to provide more context. 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin took a deep breath.

“We’re playing for time here. If we’re all business, we tire more quickly and our fights don’t last as long. Which means it’s all the sooner when we have to face the next opponent. And today, the next opponent will not be one of us. So stop flexing for each other and start flexing for the crowd.”

This last failed to bring a smile to either the greenhorn or the veteran NCO.

“Maybe you need to tell us why we’re playing for time?” The normally tough Chavez Lone Wolf was feeling just a bit worn down after days of their oeast captors requiring them to fight again and again. And he was beginning to tire of being naked. He wasn’t hurt or demoralized. Just profoundly annoyed.

“Our people are coming for us, Lone Wolf,” Pushkin replied. “You’ve been through war. I know this is just a game. But we still need to stay strong. This isn’t going to be an easy rescue for them to pull off. They may need our help when they get here.”

In response, Sgt. Lone Wolf slapped his thighs, stood up slowly, then turned toward Sasha: “Buck up there, Private! The show must go on!” He winked over his shoulder at Pushkin, then offered a hand to Sasha Soko, helping the weary young private to his bare feet.

“Who knew the floor would be so hard without boots?” Soko quipped.

“Best way to fight,” Lone Wolf responded. “No false steps. No tripping over your heels. You know exactly where you stand.”




Four hours later, Lone Wolf was facing off against an equally naked heethed champion. The veteran marine was only slightly comforted that the rules prohibited, along with striking with hard parts of the body, biting and clawing, as it was apparent his opponent would excel at these… The heethed, though not much more than half Lone Wolf’s size, was endowed with rather impressive fangs and claws.

But what made the small, somewhat furry champion a dangerous opponent was his blinding speed. He had already spilled the large, muscular marine to the sandy floor by gripping a leg and taking advantage of even the slightest momentary imbalance. Lone Wolf corrected by adjusting his footing.

The heethed champion had not tried to take advantage of those early spills, instead quickly prancing away from the downed marine and leaping with astounding agility to the top of one corner pole or another to display his fangs and hiss, spreading his arms and drinking in the screaming, fawning adulation of the large and excited crowd.

Chavez Lone Wolf took up a stance, and summoned his opponent with his fingers. The heethed spotted a momentary imbalance and raced forward to take advantage of it, only to encounter Lone Wolf’s chest, then the inside of the enormous marine’s right thigh, pushing him into Lone Wolf’s left bicep, essentially clotheslining the small, rather cat-like biped, spilling him hard onto the sand.

Lone Wolf might have been able to end the fight at this point by pinning his stunned opponent, but instead, he took a victory lap, fists in the air, bulging muscles on display, sending the crowd first into stunned silence, then roaring adulation.

For the next 30 minutes, Lone Wolf lured his opponent into one trap or another, occasionally taking a fall to allow his opponent to try for a victory lap, only to leap to his feet and hurl the heethed champion to the sand and steal his applause. In the contest between stamina and speed, Lone Wolf’s cunning prevailed.


In the following match, the oeast champion pretty much mopped the ring with the much larger and stronger, but far less experienced PFC Sasha Soko. For his part, Soko managed to stay in the fight for nearly 10 minutes, despite being thrown to the sandy floor a dozen times and finally succumbing to an obviously painful combination arm, shoulder and leg lock.


Which set up the next fight, pitting 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin against a massive, heavily armored orseld. It was the last match for the day.

While Pushkin was a fairly big man, the nearly 400-pound orseld dwarfed him. Pushkin remembered the strategy the eadh champion had used against one of these behemoths a few days previously, but was well aware he had neither the speed, nor the ability to jump so high. So he employed another of the eadh’s strategies.

Pushkin circled his opponent, changing direction often, forcing the slower orseld to continue turning to avoid allowing the marine to get behind him. Pushkin was entirely unable to play to the crowd as his nemesis was only teasing him… Fortunately, Pushkin was wise enough not to underestimate the orseld’s reaction speed. Each time the enormous, armored champion lunged, he was just a little faster. And Pushkin was barely quick enough…


Until he wasn’t.


Pushkin would have been fast enough but the orseld, unexpectedly, came down to all fours, grasped Pushkin’s ankles and, in a single move, yanked his legs out from under him, spilling the young man to the sandy floor. The orseld champion leapt a few feet into the air and landed his armored belly heavily on the marine, driving the air from his body.

Sgt. Lone Wolf and PFC Soko leapt to their feet but were prevented from entering the ring to help their fallen comrade by a number of spear-wielding oeast.

The victorious orseld champion bellowed from atop 2nd Lt. Pushkin, eliciting screams of adulation from the vast crowd. Through all this noise, the shouted curses and threats of Lone Wolf and Soko made it to the armored champion's ears and he leapt up and stomped his way toward the young marines, forcing the oeast guards to hold the orseld champion and the marines apart at spear point.

After a few moments, during which the orseld champion went back to bellowing at his fawning crowd, Pushkin struggled to his feet and slowly hobbled out of the ring. He couldn’t stand up straight. Soko and Lone Wolf were not allowed to help him until he managed to get out of the ring.


“That was not fun,” Pushkin croaked, painfully as he accepted help from his comrades.

“Those people sure ate it up,” Soko said, looking up at the still screaming onlookers. “They really got off on you getting hurt.”

“Rough crowd,” Lone Wolf observed.

7.16​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 17: Premonitions

Next to your deeper fears...

7.17
Premonitions​

The Golden Darkness Comes!!!


The eadh prophesy had swept throughout the Oulheadhry in a day. In two days, it was on the lips and minds of everyone in Roundabout Station. More than a million spacebound people of five different species, all gripped with this single idea.

A darkness that was more than the absence of light. It was like a racing black smoke that light could not pass through. No amount of light could pierce it, only shine on its black, roiling borders, occasionally catching the glint of gold within. And the voices in the darkness, menacing, but indistinct. Curses mumbled in a mystical language, sending a chill of pure terror - a darkness of the soul to match the darkness of the eye.

A darkness that moved like a living thing. Or more like a collection of living things… A thousand swirling pieces of darkness advanced, united, and the darkness swept forward. Not extinguishing light, the lights still glowed. Glowed, but illuminated nothing. Feeble lamps glowing uselessly, forlorn, unable to illuminate the mumbling darkness.


Ty Yul dropped down out of his bed onto the floor. He struggled to overcome sleep paralysis. The terror of being awake but unable to move. Unable to focus. The mumbling darkness of his dream was slow to release his eyes so that he could see. His mind so that he could think. His body so that he could move.


Terror, unthinking, formless terror, was entirely new to the massive oule. He was a champion. The greatest champion in living memory. He was not supposed to be afraid of the darkness… The darkness had always been afraid of him!

Oules tended to live very solitary lives. There were not more than a few dozen oules living on Roundabout and they were so widely scattered, their pursuits and purposes so various, that they rarely encountered one another. All the other people of the Oulheadhry made way in deference to the oules. Gave them whatever they asked for. Meekly accepted whatever the giant oules gave them in return.

Oules were not so large as the orseld, but far stronger and more vigorous. All furry muscle and aggression. Able to lift even the armored orseld and squeeze the life out of them. And Ty Yul was one of the largest, strongest, and most aggressive. A natural champion, he was undefeated by oule or anything else. But as he made his way through the corridors of the inmost Roundabout, sometimes having to squeeze through narrow corridors on his way to the Sacred Ring, he saw terror on the faces of the other people. They had always been terrified of him, as well they should be. But now their terror for him was an afterthought. They were already terrified before they had even become aware of him.


And around every corner, he could hear the mumbled, terrified words: The Golden Darkness… The Golden Darkness Comes…

7.17​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 18: The Golden Champion


Mountains come out of the sky and they stand there…

7.18
The Golden Champion​

Sgt. Chavez Lone Wolf was faring badly against an eadh champion who was much smaller than him. Lone Wolf’s strength was the only thing keeping him in the ring with his wiry, brightly feathered opponent. The eadh was simply too fast and while the feathered alien could not fly, he could leap high, fast, and far, making his attacks very difficult to avoid.

Lone Wolf picked up on a tell: a twitching of the eadh’s top feathers signaled the angle of his attack and for the next ten minutes the large veteran marine was able to not only avoid the eadh champion’s attacks, but to deliver some counter attacks that flipped the eadh on his back, although never for long enough for Lone Wolf to take advantage of them.

Finally, he was able to line up the perfect angle of attack, based on the movement of his antagonist’s feathers. Only to realize he had been played… The eadh changed direction at the last moment and clothes-lined Chavez Lone Wolf in the throat with the inside of its feathered arm.

Sgt. Lone Wolf landed hard on his back, barely able to breathe. His eyes were teared up from the sucker-punch. Despite the veteran marine’s tremendous strength, the eadh was able to lock up his arms, pin his legs, then, with strong hands on Lone Wolf’s jaw, turn his head and neck into a painful and completely immobilizing lock, which seemed to go on forever, accompanied by the adulation of the crowd.

While he was not as badly wounded as 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin, who seemed to be in worse condition today than he had been immediately after being crushed under an orseld champion the previous day, Lone Wolf was in extreme pain and could not straighten his neck. He had to walk kind of sideways, crab-like, to get out of the ring, where a still battered and bruised, but not severely damaged PFC Sasha Soko could help him to sit next to a nearly incapacitated Iov Pushkin on a hard, metal bench.


This left a terrified and woefully under-prepared Sasha Soko to stand alone in the ring to face the monstrous, bear-like oule.

Soko was trying his best to be brave, trying to stride confidently into the ring to face a monster. While he had not seen one fight in person, he had watched a number of broadcasts. The oules were merciless with each other and the loser, even when it was another oule, usually had to be carried from the ring.

A low murmur began. Sasha at first thought it was the crowd, commenting on his, admittedly, hopeless plight. But it was a far more sinister sound and was soon accompanied by sounds of panic from the crowd. Even the massive oule champion in front of him looked nervous… no, not just nervous… terrified…

The only words Sasha could make out from the crowd were “the golden darkness!!!”

And darkness swept into the ring, roiling across the floor and growing like a physical thing. Writhing, murmuring, cursing, fragments of darkness, sweeping in through all the doorways, joining up and rolling across the floor like black smoke. Like water. Rising like a flood. Sasha suddenly felt himself immobilized… something wrapped tightly around him. Lifting him. Washing him out of the ring…


Ty Yul tried to hold his inner panic at bay. He had no experience to compare this to. The morning’s nightmare had come to life all around him as the murmuring, cursing, roiling darkness swirled all around him. Blinding him. Deafening him. Robbing him of all his senses. It was as though he had suddenly been cast into space.

The oule fought, for the first time in his life, to control his mind in the face of pure terror. He was not in space. It was warm. He could feel wisps of darkness moving his fur, caressing his face, but it was not hurting him. He could feel the sandy floor of the ring firmly under his feet.

And before him, something was glowing in the darkness. A golden light in front of him. Resolving into a figure of light as the darkness washed away. Standing where the pathetic marine champion had been standing. A creature of the same form, but much, much larger, covered with glowing, golden lines, depicting flames on his face and body. Dark skin laced with bright, glowing patterns.


A golden champion had emerged from the darkness. The glowing champion pointed a glowing finger at the sandy floor of the ring.


Ty Yul was elated. Finally, a worthy opponent. He leapt forward as his new opponent leapt toward him… And collided with a solid opponent nearly his equal in size and strength. Nearly. Ty Yul was delighted. He had a slight edge in size and strength and proceeded to use it, wrapping his massive, furry arms around his glowing opponent.

But his opponent had a surprise advantage. He used both hands to grip the oule’s massive head and turned it, making it impossible for Ty Yul to maintain his hold. For the first time in his life, the massive champion was thrown to the ground. Onto the very spot his glowing nemesis had pointed to moments before. Only to see the golden champion flying above him, and slamming his substantial belly into the oule’s midsection, robbing him of breath.

While Ty Yul tried desperately to regain his breath, the golden champion, instead of taking advantage of this moment to end the fight, strode about the ring, taking a victory lap. Raising enormous, heavily muscled arms. Muscles outlined and defined by glowing golden lines.

The crowd, mostly oeast, but quite a few heethed and eadh, were shocked to silence. They had never seen anything like this before. Then they burst into screams of adulation like never before. Screaming themselves hoarse for a champion that could finally challenge one of the mighty, disdainful, dangerous oules.

Again and again, Ty Yul was thrown to the ground… Thrown to the ground on the same spot every time… The spot his glowing nemesis had initially pointed to… And the golden champion landed a thigh or an upper arm, or his massive belly on the oule champion’s belly, driving his breath from the oule’s body, only to then spring back to his feet and strut and flex his glowing muscles for the crowd. A crowd that was supposed to be adoring Ty Yul, but whose imaginations had thoroughly been captivated by the golden champion.

When the golden champion finally pinned the oule to the sandy floor, it was a mercy. Ty Yul had never imagined defeat. Now, shamefully, he welcomed it as an end to his ordeal. What his nemesis had that Ty Yul had never learned was skill. Immense strength paired with training and skill from years of combat with nearly equal champions. Champions for whom combat was not just a contest of strength and will, but an art.


Then the murmuring darkness returned, swirling around the golden champion, surrounding and obscuring him and when the darkness receded, the golden champion was gone.


It was only at this moment that the oeast realized that the marines were gone as well…

7.18​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 7: The Roundabout
Scene 19: Teacher Pel

Ten true summers we'll be there and laughing too...

7.19
Teacher Pel​

Pel was in her quarters aboard the U.S.S. Mako. She was depressed and demoralized by her treatment at the hands of a powerful oeast cult at the heart of the Sacred Games. Her prosthetic ears, designed to facilitate her disguise as a ferengi male, had been destroyed and she had not had them replaced. Her secret had been exposed to too many people. Her life had been in ruins for quite some time, but the damage she had done, the danger to which she had exposed the U.S. Marines, whom she had come to deeply admire, highlighted the final, utter wreckage of her life.

She had been living a lie for many years. And it had finally crashed into ruin around her.

She did not want to see Captain Skip Howard, but she could hardly refuse him entry. He was the one person who had always been on her side. Possibly the only person she knew who had always believed in her.

“Yes, enter,” she said when he arrived and rang her door chime.


Captain Howard walked in and placed a data card on the desk in Pel’s sparely furnished quarters

Pel didn’t look up. She didn’t have the strength to look the Beagle’s captain in the eye.

“A gift from Martial Nalconi,” Howard said.

“That bird does not give gifts,” Pel responded.

“Perhaps not. But this is something you wanted more than anything in the Oulheadhry. And he did not have to give it to you.”

Pel looked up.

“The ancient, sacred texts. The history of your people's contact with the Oulheadry,” Howard explained. “They had never been committed to computer. While Dutch Holland was showing the floor to that oule champion, Nalconi’s confederates were raiding the sacred library and stealing the ancient texts right under the noses of the warrior cult. They were so wrapped up in their scheme to put our people into the ring, and in our little performance to rescue them, that the library was left pretty much unguarded. Nalconi allowed me to replicate the books and their patterns are on this card. And now that he is in possession of them, he has essentially stolen the games from the warrior cult.”

“He used us,” Pel said. “I have to admire his ruthlessness.”

“A very interesting combination of ruthless and gracious,” Howard rejoined. “He played us like a Stradivarius violin. Expertly, but carefully.”

“I think he was only a few steps ahead of us,” said Pel. “He saw his opportunity, drew us in. I’m sure he realized that you would put on a tremendous show. He probably had that blind priestess plant that prophesy to see what you would do with it...”

“He does strike me as a man who loves a good show,” Howard agreed. "And yeah, that little self-fulfilling prophesy was quite convenient..."

“You have the ability to project holograms,” said Pel. “I’ve seen you do it before. That’s what all that darkness was.”

“A blend of a holo generator and a transporter,” Howard responded. “Superb camouflage for our rescue team to do their work. Dutchie’s invention, actually.”

Pel was shaking her head. "Care to explain why I dreamed about those mumbling fingers of darkness before actually seeing them?"

Howard laughed. "That was a surprise to me, too, and I haven't decided how to address it yet... I'm far from certain I approve... Apparently Premiere T'Eln and Ten cooked up a nightmare for the oule champion to soften him up for Dutchie, and a fair number of people got caught up in the psychic backwash. Fortunately, Dutchie was awake at the moment they were broadcasting that nightmare..."

“And the glowing patterns on Commander Holland's skin?”

“Bioluminescent tattoos,” Howard answered. “He’s going to be glowing for a few weeks, but eventually, his body will absorb the bioluminescent ink. He said at first it really burned, but now it’s just a dull itch.”

Pel made an amused noise, then fell silent.




After nearly a full minute of silence, Pel looked up again: “What’s to become of me? Too many people know about me now. I’m never going to be able to go home.” Her voice cracked with grief.

“Martial Nalconi said something to me that kind of stuck,” Captain Howard replied. “While you’re in the Oulheadry, you’re no longer Trader Pel. You’re Teacher Pel. It got me to thinking… You have been Teacher Pel for some time. Ever since I met you, really. We have all learned so much from you. You are an amazing teacher. Perhaps it’s time to leave Trader Pel behind and become Teacher Pel.”

Captain Howard stood up, walked over to Pel and lightly kissed the top of her head, as if giving a blessing, then turned to leave.


“Skip…”


Howard turned at the door to look at Pel.

“You really are a weird man,” said Pel. “You know that, right?”

Captain Howard smiled and giggled lightly. “You have no idea.” He exited the room, leaving a smiling Pel behind him.

The Roundabout

​

This is the final scene in Episode 7.

The adventure will continue in Episode 8 - South Side of the Sky.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Beagle Adventures on Trek BBS:

Episode 1: The Eye of the Beholder
Episode 2: Astral Traveller
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 (You Are Here)
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
Episode 15: Close to the Edge part IV - Seasons of Man
Episode 16: And You And I part I - Cord of Life (in drafting)
Episode 17: And You And I part II - Eclipse (projected)
Episode 18: And You And I part III - The Preacher, The Teacher (projected)
Episode 19: And You And I part IV - Apocalypse (projected)

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Star Beagle Adventures Episode 8: South Side of the Sky
Throughout this episode, snippets of lyrics are quoted. These are from the song, "South Side of the Sky" by Jon Anderson and Chris Squire. The song first appeared as track 4 on "Fragile", the fourth album by the progressive rock band, YES, 1971, Atlantic Records.

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 8: South Side of the Sky
Scene 1: Gateway

The sunshine, in mountains sometimes lost
Around the southside...

8.1
Gateway​

“Gorgeous!”


While Commodore Yui Song had disapproved, she had to admit that a diplomatic mission with the potential of not one, but three first contact situations, merited the presence of a command level officer. And she wasn’t about to go risking her octogenarian neck hanging by rope and piton from miles-high, snow drenched mountains above the cloud line on an alien planet on which the only habitable zone was above roiling lower layers of clouds.

This was a job for a ship’s captain, and Captain Ronald Howard, XIV was the person for this job. Captain Rhonda Carter would have been quite happy clambering about in this mountain range, but she was, by her own admission, more fighter than diplomat. Skip Howard, for all his strangeness, was a smooth hand with new people.

At Howard’s request, his rescue party included the U.S.S. Escort’s second officer, Lt. Cmdr. Vranran zh’Kathar, Ensign Tos th’Taahrit from the U.S.S. Mako’s security detail, 2nd Lt. Emily Li from the U.S.S. Mako’s engine room and one of the denobulan planetologists, Cetris Rye, who was also a mighty singer. These party members had been chosen because they were avid mountaineers.

The party was rounded out by a squad of United States Marines under the command of Captain Osollaa sh’Zhiathis, which meant that all three of the andorians in the task force were on this mountain with him. There was good reason for this: Andorians were not only naturally great mountain climbers, but well adapted to cold weather climates.

The other marines on this mission were 2nd Lt. Iov Pushkin, who, like Captain sh’Zhiathis, had grown up in Alaska and had climbed Mt. McKinley while in high school, as well as Sgt. Tammy Glick, and Privates First Class Tim Cho, Sean Young, and Elven Washington.

PFC L’Kath, the marine unit’s sole vulcan, remained with Beagle Shuttle #2, the shuttle Dr. Uto had equipped with medical diagnostic equipment. This small, regular service shuttle was landed in the only spaceport in these mountains, located miles away from the City, which was only reachable by an uncertain mountain trail. Spacecraft were not welcome anywhere near the City.


“Yes sir, it is,” agreed Pushkin. The young marine officer was the first to join Captain Howard into the pass onto the south face of one of a vast range of mountains.

It was a sight that would make even avid mountain climbers a little depressed. The beginning of a journey deep into a forbidding mountain range. A search and rescue operation too windy and tempestuous for a shuttle. Shuttles could not fly in the area at all, nor could transporters be used due to a large energy dampening field that blanketed this part of the mountains. The presence of this dampening field impacted the equipment choices for Howard’s party.

But it was also a sight of austere beauty. A double sunrise over mile after mile of mountain peaks rising out of a cottony bank of clouds. And the colors were like nothing on Earth. Something either in the color of light from the twin suns or the chemicals in the ice crystals, something created soft halos of color over each mountain top that were barely visible, but gradually changed with parallax.


Somewhere in these mountains was a city with survivors from the climate change that had killed nearly everything below those clouds several thousand years ago. And the people of that city had only achieved faster than light travel after that great cataclysm.

Somewhere else in these mountains was a downed spacecraft with visitors from another world. Visitors whose distress signal had been picked up by the Beagle task force. Visitors who would be welcome if they could make it to the City, but could expect no rescue from there.

And throughout these mountains was rumored (according to the information that had travelled with the distress signal) to live yet another indigenous species - a people who were familiar with space travel but were not themselves space travelers and were of various temperament toward space travelers. A people who had lived in these mountaintops for hundreds of thousands of years.


Frost giants.


And now Captain Skip Howard and his rescue party stood at the gateway to this world.

8.1​

 

[BountyTrek]

Satisfying conclusion to the story with the ‘Golden Darkness’. And interested to see where Pel goes from here.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Satisfying conclusion to the story with the ‘Golden Darkness’. And interested to see where Pel goes from here.

Glad you liked the "Golden Darkness" gag - which started out as General Krank's idea...

More Pel storyline coming up...

Thanks!! rbs

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 8: South Side of the Sky
Scene 2: The U.S.S. Arizona

The river can disregard the cost...

8.2
The U.S.S. Arizona​

Pel had not left her quarters since her ordeal with an oeast religious cult, which had led to her losing the prosthetic ears that had, up until now, disguised her as male. She had few visitors, but those who did visit her, or more specifically, those she allowed to visit her, each had an impact. Captain Skip Howard. Premiere Emeritus T’Eln. Dr. Bettes Uto. Dean Sakura Nakamura Holland. Lance Corporal Petra Spitze.

She was profoundly depressed, but far from suicidal. She was just stuck. There was no way back. There was no way forward. So she was drifting.

It was in this state that Commodore Yui Song found Pel. Considering how devastating the blow to her was, Pel had composed herself to accept her most important benefactor. Yui Song felt just a little dirty as a result, considering her purpose for this visit.


“We need to talk about your shuttle,” Yui started.

“I was planning to move into it,” Pel responded. “You don’t have room to carry it within this ship. I know that’s why the Bluebird is flying with the task force when it should really be berthed onboard. I’ve been thinking that the time may have come for me to leave, anyway.”

“You would be terribly missed, Pel,” Yui replied. “You’ve become more than a friend to many of us. We have actually come to depend on you.”

“I am not giving up my shuttle,” said Pel. “Any ambition I have left… You don’t know what ownership of a ship, even a slow one, means to a ferengi…”

“I have a business proposal for you…” Yui was getting around to her plan. She didn’t know why even the language of business made her feel a little dirty. If this worked, it would be good for both Pel and the task force.

Ferengi ears weren’t really capable of it, but it seemed that Pel’s ears perked up. She smiled for the first time in weeks. “A business proposal? There might be hope for you yet, Star Fleet.”

Pel’s smile made Yui Song feel much better. The elderly flag officer smiled in return and started to relax a little. “The configuration of your shuttle makes it useful to us. It is much better designed for carrying large payloads than any of our shuttle fleet, even the Bluebird. It can carry a much larger, heavier payload and its design makes loading far more efficient. All that and it’s a little smaller than the Bluebird. Small enough to fit into the Escort’s shuttlebay, which neither the Bluebird nor the Puppy can do.”

“But it’s slow,” Pel rejoined. “Maximum speed is warp 2.5. And as you said, none of the task force’s ships has room to carry it unless the Bluebird or the Puppy travels separately.”

“This ship could make room for it,” Yui responded. “But that would involve disassembling three of our regular service shuttles. Here’s my proposal… I would like to lease your shuttle for the next four years.”

“And how do you propose to reimburse me for that lease?” Pel asked.

“That space frame is capable of easily and safely traveling at warp 6. With some reinforcement, it could be made safe for warp 8. And with parts from the shuttlecraft we would have to disassemble, we could improve the engines to that point. And arm the shuttle with Star Fleet standard weapons and shields. At the end of four years from this date, Star Fleet will return the shuttle to you, complete with these upgrades.”

Pel sat up with interest as the commodore explained this proposal. “Ferengi are discouraged from admitting this under any circumstances, but that is a tremendously advantageous deal. What if the craft is destroyed, or lost, or damaged beyond repair? Do you have sufficient authority to provide me a replacement?”

“There is some procurement authority that comes with my rank. A Star Fleet captain would not have that much authority. But a Fleet Captain does, which is my actual rank,” Yui replied. “Of course, while your shuttle is under Star Fleet commission, we will have to remove your portrait and the name from the vehicle. But we can re-apply that painting before returning it to you.”

Pel touched her ears. “I like that portrait. But I’m not sure it’s, well, that it’s really a portrait of me, anymore. So what will you name the shuttle while it’s under Star Fleet commission?”


“I did a little research. There is a storied, appropriate name that is not currently in use. I included, in my last report to Star Fleet, a request to reserve the name for my use in case you agreed to my proposal…” Commodore Yui paused for a moment:


“The U.S.S. Arizona.”

8.2​

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

The Star Beagle Adventures
Episode 8: South Side of the Sky
Scene 3: Tall Tales and Hot Grelbet

Were we ever warmer on that day
A million miles away
It seemed from all of eternity...

8.3
Tall Tales and Hot Grelbet​

“Jellear over there, she actually saw it. Watched it go down.”


It was impossible for Captain Howard, or any of the other away team members traveling with him, to determine whether the voice that emanated from underneath a mountain of cloth, fur, and other materials that might have been hides, belonged to a male or a female. Or indeed, until it spoke, that there was actually a person under that pile of material at all.

Neither he, nor his party had expected to come across a village, with low, snow-covered buildings squatting neatly on either side of the main path leading down from the gap they had walked through that morning. It wasn’t much of a village - a dozen tiny houses and one larger, public house, which Howard and his party had entered, only to find three mounds of textiles, each of which, apparently, had some sort of person underneath.

The person who had spoken was one of two sitting at a table near the door. The other mound, which, apparently, contained someone named Jellear, was alone at a large table near the back of the room.


Most of Howard’s party had entered the public house, leaving only two marines outside to keep watch. Marine Captain Osollaa sh’Zhiathis set up a staggered 2-hour rotation so that every hour, one of the marines would be replaced.


A cup of some sort emerged from the mountain of clothing at the back of the room and waived at Captain Howard. A voice also emerged. “Welcome to Jellear House. Sit. I’ll get a fire going. You’re welcome to sleep on the floor. I’ll trade you hot grelbet for whatever stories you can tell me.”

Oddly, it seemed that pile of textiles was able to shift her focus visibly to the other two who were sitting closer to the door: “Derp, Culby, get up, feed the fire, and get some grelbet going!"

The two mountains of textiles, who, apparently, went by the names Derp and Culby, got up, revealing that they also had, at the very least, two feet each, which could be seen underneath the shuffling mounds of fabrics. There were, in this simple shack, only two rooms, one of which turned out to be the privy. The fireplace was something that appeared very much like a Franklin stove and was located in the center of the room.


On approaching the stove, both piles of textiles were shed to reveal smallish humanoids with black skin and azure blue fur. Both were somewhat smaller than the average human and in build and facial feature not unlike a gibbon - if an unusually large gibbon. One retrieved a large pot that had been hanging from the ceiling, dropped a few dark gray cubes into it, then placed it on top of the stove underneath a tap that came down from the ceiling. She opened the tap, allowing water to drip into the pot.

The other used a tool somewhat like a poker, but with an insulated handle, to open a door into the stove, revealing glowing embers inside, then used a similarly insulated shovel to shove a few dozen orange crystals into the fire, causing it to blaze up brightly.

Within a minute, this caused water to run freely from the tap, filling the pot on the stove, and also significantly warmed the room, causing Captain Howard and his away team to shed their heavy, winter clothing.

Jellear also shed her mountain of textiles. “We haven’t had an excuse for a proper fire in months. And a proper fire is a place to tell stories. Tell me a story, then I will tell you the story you want to hear. Not that there is a lot to tell. But then, you aren’t from around here, so there are a lot of other things you should probably know before you go looking for that downed spaceship.”

A series of knocks at the door heralded the entry of another villager. “You might as well bring your sentries in from the cold,” Jellear continued. “Now that we’ve got a proper fire going, all the villagers will be coming in, bringing food and drink. They will want to hear your stories too. You’re the most exciting thing that has happened around here in, well, probably years…”


Captain Skip Howard was a decent story teller, and he regaled the village with a version of the Beagle Task Force’s misadventures at the Oulheadry, leaving out details about Pel’s gender, but giving exciting, blow-by-blow accounts of each of the matches, which had the villagers on the edges of their seats. He described the appearance of the Golden Champion (and the accompanying Golden Darkness) while glossing over that both were products of the task force…


The hot grelbet turned out to be something similar to a mixture of strong ginseng tea with tomato soup with a strong hint of bacon - an odd combination - but wonderfully warm and revitalizing after the cold trek through the high mountain pass.


“Your turn,” Captain Howard said. “We will stay here tonight and tell as many stories as you can stay awake for, but I really need to know about the ship you saw going down.”

“There’s not much to tell about that, but a lot you need to know,” Jellear replied. “Day before yester, I saw a small space ship pass over Lichter Ridge. They were going really fast and they made it really far into the mountains before they lost power. Must have been a very advanced ship. They went down on the south side of Torlochtor, which is just behind Thelochtor, the largest mountain you can see from here. There’s no safe passage around the west of Thelochtor and barely any to the east of it, but if you go round the east side, then round the east side of Torlochtor, which is just behind it, somewhere down there you’ll find that ship. I’m amazed that you received a transmission from them. It must have been a very short transmission.”

Captain Howard nodded. “About three tenths of a second. But that was enough time for them to give us their location, situation, and some background on who they are, where they were going and a few hints about the culture and the locals.”

“Compressed data from computer to computer,” Jellear opined, to the surprise of Howard and his away team. “Just because I live in the back of beyond doesn’t mean I’m ignorant.” Jellear smiled. “In better days, I worked on computer systems in the City. Until the purple started to get even worse and chased everyone else out. We all still go there. They allow anyone to stay in the City for four days a year. But no more than that. The City is for the purple.”

“So maybe you have an idea why our equipment is not working?” Howard asked, displaying a non-functional tricorder.


“Same reason that ship crashed,” Jellear replied. “The purple do not tolerate any high technology outside of the City. This entire mountain range is blanketed with a dampening field. If you had brought your space ship beyond the docking port on the other side of Gateway Pass, it would have crashed, too…”

8.3​

 

[BountyTrek]

Like it. Setting up another fun mystery in another equally fun-sounding location. And good to see Pel hopefully on the mend, one deal at a time.

 

[Robert Bruce Scott]

Like it. Setting up another fun mystery in another equally fun-sounding location. And good to see Pel hopefully on the mend, one deal at a time.

Glad you're enjoying! I definitely wanted a lighter feel to this series than the Star Trek Hunter series, which was laden with heavy philosophy. Star Beagle Adventures is more of a strange travelogue on the edge of the Alpha Quadrant and the cusp of the Gamma Quadrant.

Thanks!! rbs