Stardate 69007.7
Posted on 30 Oct 2018 @ 11:46pm by Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri
1,967 words; about a 10 minute read
[ON:]
“Science Officer’s Personal Log, stardate 69007.7. LTJG Matthew Plumeri recording. The Galileo and her long-range sensor array came with range of what appears to be a Class K planet. That would be interesting enough except we found a storm that was one-third the size of the planet itself. This planet identified by Astrometrics as the lovely YUTU-K-42266 is 49,500 km as the mean radius. It’s the largest planet in this solar system of three. The storm is freakin’ incredible. I can see flashes of lightning and I can see the clouds whipping about the planet when I look at the sensor data on a fast playback. The weather is characterized by extremely dynamic storm systems, with winds reaching speeds of almost 600 m/s (2,200 km/h; 1,300 mph)—nearly reaching supersonic flow.
There are four large continents and the rest of the planets volume is water. At this distance, life is undetermined but underwater life is probably considering that the water, the oceans are warmer than the air so; geothermic heating is present. I wouldn’t want to beam down there right now though. And I think I’ll pass on a shuttle ride too. But, taking a larger craft down there might be fun. We’ll just have to live with long-range sensor data for the time being. Too far to launch a probe and these probes don’t just grow on trees.
We had an awesome dinner meeting last week with the science department. A lot of super smart people in there. I’m going to have to watch what I say; before they realize just how dumb I really am. I’ve been keeping my workout regularly and I got a sprain in the shoulder a day ago. Medical patched me up quick. I’m planning on doing some reading tonight and then writing some more for my journal. I’ve loaded one of my favorite holodeck programs into the computer and I can’t wait to play it. It is an adaptation of the Klingon opera “Wufftan and Muttalan”. Instead of being set on Q'onoS, it is set in the second era on Fontalis. I just need to find someone else to play with!
Computer, end log and save.”
== END PERSONAL LOG ==
Chief Warrant Officer Robert Isaac Linden had always wanted a shot at "equality". Mind you – not equity – he wanted equality. Equality with those who were not his peers. He had been stationed on this backwater planet Fontalis for almost four years now. The people were friendly to him. Pleasant, nice and welcoming. He had a modest home, many girlfriends and all the sex partners he wanted. Still, he never moved in the upper strata of the society; the Priestly and Noble classes. What off-worlders never could understand was just how religious a society the Fontalans had. No, I’m not going to explain it to you either because if you’ve never been there or lived among the Fontalans then you’ll just never fully understand. It’s not just a belief system; but a way of life. And if you’ve never lived it, been there or had the opportunity to meet a native then you’re just not going to get it. Linden was just one of those guys that didn’t get it either. The best explanation that I have ever heard was carved in the lintel wood above the entry way into the dining room at the Plumeri house. In Fontalan is sings off your lips and you end up with a happy smile; in Standard it is a little less elegant but still warms the heart. There it is, above the door, see it:
Chiunque tu sia e dovunque ti trovi nel viaggio della vita; Sei il benvenuto qui.
Dimentica il mondo in difficoltà e ogni paura tremante.
Perché, non sai che tutti sono Possiamo parenti di sopra?
Anche tu, cuore mio; e qui la regola della vita è l'amore.
Whoever you are and wherever you find yourself on life's journey; You are welcome here.
Forget the struggling world, And every trembling fear.
For, do you not know that all are kin of Possiamo above?
You, too, dear heart; and here the rule of life is love.
Those who had a name, who owned land, who were great Scientists, Musicians, Artists, Poets or Thinkers seemed to have it better. Sitting out here for four years, Robert Linden hadn’t learned a thing. But it isn’t all his fault. You see, while Robert Linden hadn’t taken to heart living with the Fontalans; something uniquely Fontalan had taken notice of him. And, as all wicked things do, it moved in his heart and darkened his mind a little piece at a time. Until, one day, it had his mind and heart and he was enslaved without even knowing it.
Linden was transferred to a sun-space relay station for four months. And with this time, he was put to work for a singular purpose. With only four other persons to talk to it didn't take much encouraging for him to accept his new orders. They were simple enough for a man in his position and with his training. And what they wanted done was not hard. And they paid him well. He had even selected where his new house would be. Choosing a choice piece of land where, right now, Il Tempio di Atteone stood. One of the truly amazing architectural majesties of the Grand City of Serse. Atteone was one of the seven old style temples. “The Seven Sisters” they were called. Atteone named for the goddess of waters, rivers, streams and lakes, was in the mountains above the northern boundaries of the city limits. It sat next to a wide lake and not far away from a delightfully misty waterfall. Surrounded by trees and green things, birds and deer. People came from all over to see the grounds and walk among the tall columns before going into the sanctuary itself. When composers or poets wanted a serene backdrop to their work, this was the place to do it. This was the place where everyone wanted to get married. This was the place.
And it would be Lindens soon and he planned to raze it. He planned a palace for himself there. And, for his treachery, he would be compensated in an obscene amount of Latinum.
Of course, it was all true too. You see, that hideous strength that was awakened did not care for money or latinum. It cared not for riches or power. Mighty armies and navies were not its preferred method of domination. In fact, the less it was dominating, the better. What woke it? What stirred this ancient evil to life again?
Tribalisim.
Now, Robert Linden; he was ready to and eager to help. At the end of his shift it would only be him and Communications Engineer Manel on the board the lonely sub-space relay.
"Well, ooooohhhh, time for my walk," said Manel as she stretched her arms and stood up. "Cover for me?" she asked her co-worker.
Linden smiled, "Don't I always?"
Manel smiled back and said, "Thanks. I won't be long" as she exited the COMM room. The doors hissed closed and Linden waited just a moment before sliding his chair over to the isolinear access panel. He opened it and the computer beeped at him.
(beep-beep)
WARNING! Security seal compromised. Access to the isolinear sub-processing housing is restricted. Level 1 alert procedure is now in effect.
"That's what you think", Linden muttered as he pulled a few chips and rearranged them carefully. "Computer, re-route emergency backup power grid from this terminal through auxiliary replicator system."
The machine whirred as it worked, Please verify command with necessary protocol.
"Initiate protocol sequence ESD-18. Diagnostic start-up mode", Linden commanded.
After a moment, the monotone voice replied, Verified priority clearance.
Now that the re-programmed isolinear sub-space decoder was being powered not by a primary system, but a backup system to a non-primary replicator system, the real fun could begin. Linden slid his chair back to his console after replacing the cover. Manel would be back in a minute or two from her walk. He had to hurry.
"Computer, redirect secondary sub-space antenna by 12.19 degrees to these coordinates", as he types in the coordinates the secondary sub-space antenna moves.
Acknowledged. Antenna #336 moving off-axis 12.19 degrees.
"Delete diagnostics logs. Now, verify that all records of these modifications are being erased from each directory", Linden ordered as he typed in a new series of commands.
Affirmative. Diagnostic mode enabled. Erasure process is proceeding.
By re-programming the memory chips to erase all operator commands Linden was sure that his tracks could not be traced back to him. By putting the computer in a diagnostic mode so that he could access the panel to reorient the sub-space antenna to a sector not part of the Federation was he able to deliver his employers message. It is contained not on any memory chip. On the contrary, it is encoded in Linden's own DNA. From his pocket he produces a small hypo spray containing his regular medication for a childhood illness that never left him. He takes regular injections. However, this hypo spray also is equipped with a nucleotide reader innocuously embedded in the handle. With it, he can encode or decode computer information stored in his own bloodstream; courtesy, his employers. He takes a small drop of blood and then connects the reader to a PADD. He can hear Manel ordering a coffee at the replicator. He hears her say, “Why is the damn replicator offline?”
He must hurry! "Computer, analyze the organic sample located on the attached PaDD. Use a parametric signal analysis."
Working. No commonalities noted.
Linden looks over his shoulder nervously, "Computer, re-scan the sample. Enhance and augment the parameters of the scan to include inorganic, un-natural or cryptographic pattern recognition. "
Analysis complete. Organic sample corresponds to a compressed nucleotide sigma banded protein layer.
Linden smiled. That was the message. He did not know what it was or what it contained. He didn't care either. All he knew was that at this time he was supposed to transmit this message on this frequency to these coordinates. Humans have a special knack for simply, "following orders".
“Analyze the sigma banded protein layer and convert the layer into a binary signal using this algorithm.” He typed it into the machine and, like magic, the protein layers converted into binary signals.
When his co-worker re-entered the COMM room, Manel saw that he was still at his post. The cover to the memory chips was intact and the computer was just finishing up a routine diagnostic. He turned to her and tried not to look ghastly white with nerves, "You're back early?"
"Miss me?" she smiled as she resumed her post. Coffee cup in hand and bitching about the replicator not working a minute ago, he smiled back. When it was clear that she was not coming over, he quietly tapped the "TRANSMIT" button that was flashing on his terminal. And just like that; with the press of a button, a civil war would start that would end a thousand-years of peace - the message was sent.
He returned the hypo to his pocket. The diagnostic finished, and the sub-space antenna returned to its original orientation. Linden grinned at his success and light years away people he did not know and did not care about…died.
[OFF:]
Lieutenant JG Matthew Plumeri
Science Officer/Historian
USS Galileo-A
NCC-80010
RSS Feed
Back to Top