Author's Note:
Thanks for clicking on my story. Unlike most people on this site I am an actual true Star Trek fan OOPS! My Facetious-o-meter just exploded. Dang. Okay, so, straight up, I borrowed some story elements and characters from TOS, SNG and DS9, plus concepts from some of my favorite SF writers, but isn't that what fan fiction is all about?
Fun Fact: Did you know "facetious" is a single word that has all five major vowels in alphabetical order? I don't know of any other! "Facetiously" is an even better word, with the "y" at the end, still in order. "Facetious? Why?" has all vowels in order, but it's a two-word phrase, so not nearly as much fun.
FYI, the narrator in "The Scream" is from the Continuum (yay TNG) call him "H." Section 1 (the first four chapters) is almost entirely a back-story, as narrated by H, to my Starfleet adventure, so if you want to skip it and start with being at Starfleet Academy (the fifth chapter, technically Chapter 2a), feel free.
Also, too, if you want to ignore the Academy and start with being on the Enterprise (the eighth chapter, technically Chapter 3a), also feel free. Whatever you do, just be warned, H intrudes on the story frequently, and he will tell you where in Section 1 to find pertinent info that you blew by. Prepare to be scolded by H if you fail to read all chapters closely and remember all the details. Tsk, tsk. It's all in fun.
Pretty much every character is named. I hope it's not too confusing. It was my way of acknowledging family, friends, and public figures whom I love and/or admire.
Hugs, /\/\/\/ (newbie author - could you tell?)
Section 1: Prelude
Chapter 1a: From This Moment On
What do you do when you're alone in the universe? Of course, the Ktak weren't actually alone, not in the galaxy much less the universe. But they had visited thousands of star systems and observed hundreds of promising species, and none of those species would be fulfilling that promise in fewer than a million years. The Ktak were patient, but they had their limits. So, yes, for all practical purposes, alone in the universe.
Not merely patient, the Ktak were also clever and resourceful, and so embarked on a program … Wait, moving too fast? Need some back-story? This IS the back-story. Or at least, it's the back-story to her-story. See what I did there? The history of her story, her being rather an odd duck with rather an odd story, but her story needs a back-story without question. And now it seems you're asking for some back-story to the back-story? Okay, but pay attention. We're not going through this twice.
First, about me. I'm going to be narrating her story. I was there, I am here, as an observer for all of it, so no one is better qualified than I to be the narrator. In addition, I really like almost all the people involved in her story, so that aspect at least doubles my qualifications. Many of my species don't like anyone in any story; frequently I don't like anyone either, but in this case, the exception probes the rule. I like them all. I do not like all that happens to them. You'll know when I'm unhappy about the storyline because I will give you warning that I am refraining from offering my opinion. I'll present the facts only, and move on as quickly as possible. Otherwise, get used to my asserting my opinions whenever I like. It is my nature.
Second, about the originators of this story.
Approximately 500,028 years ago, the Ktak were a lovely, graceful species, a little on the short side, hairless and sleek. They were intelligent creatures, creative, ambitious, adventurous – they possessed many, many really terrific assets. The most really terrific asset was the capability of neural communication – what primitives call telepathy. Neural communication enabled all Ktak to remember everything – their history, accomplishments, technology, leaders, whatever, accurately across the generations. Have a question? Here's the answer, transmitted into your very own brain: sights, sounds, smells, tastes, textures.
The Ktak were unable to transmit that which had not yet happened, so in order to anticipate and make plans, they had to talk about it. Oh, yes, the Ktak had a verbal language. Their verbal language was also lovely, but agile rather than graceful. They no longer had even vestigial vocal chords, but the facility of their tongues, remarkably muscled and flexible, combined with air pushing and popping through their lips and cheeks, led to a more than adequate verbal language. Five hundred thousand years hence, a Rrannimmese by the name of Solitaire Anon would make a joke with her friend, the Terran Janay Andersen: What do you call a Ktak who hangs out with an orchestra? The percussion section. Janay thought it was hilarious. Of course Janay thought most things were hilarious.
But back to the Ktak. And enough of the back-story to the back-story of her story in this ancient history.
The Ktak – not merely patient but also clever and resourceful, remember where we left off? – the Ktak embarked on a program to bring along some of those promising species a bit faster than evolution would allow. Quite a bit faster. They called it "The Project." Clever and resourceful they were, but entirely without verbal nuance. Having no written language discourages the development of sparkling vocabulary, although their neural communication – aka telepathy – led to stupendous visuals. A fair trade-off for being illiterate.
Some may find The Project shocking – what about the Prime Directive? But the Ktak had no Prime Directive, and even if they did, their Prime Directive would have been "Screw the Prime Directive." That was their nature.
So The Project: Genetically modify the DNA of the most promising species around the galaxy by substituting Ktak DNA. Ah, but which species? They must have some characteristics in common with the Ktak to begin with. Cht, a well-respected Ktak elder, came up with The List to which the other Ktak responded neurally upon presentation:
- Land-dwelling, obviously. Air and water environments will never produce compatible species.
Strong recollected visions of gasping and drowning. Unpleasant. Land dwelling, check.
- Bipedal and dexterous, so tool wielding would be easy.
Wings and fins are perfectly lovely – the Ktak applaud the dynamic visuals recollected. But not appropriate for working with delicate instruments. No. Bipedal, check. Dexterous, check.
- Dual-sexual.
Enable further, faster mixing of DNA. Excellent point! Not infinitely patient, let's remember. Dual-sexual, check.
- Carbon-based and oxygen breathing.
Yes, of course, very necessary. Goes without saying. So why are you saying it?
- Feathers or scales, bald or furry.
Utterly irrelevant. Are you joking? Why is this even on The List?
Cht was finished with The List, and well finished with disrespectful reactions. Honestly, was it really necessary to neurally communicate every little quibble?
Then, which Ktak DNA should be gifted to all the lesser species? The debate was long and contentious. A committee was formed to pick the most divine traits of the Ktak people, eventually coming up with the following: intelligence, creativity, curiosity, ambition, vigor. And of course, the most divine of the divine traits, their greatest blessing of all blessings: neural communication.
A second committee determined the form and delivery system. Yet another committee assigned planets and species to the available space vessels. And another to assign individual Ktak to the spaceships – compatibility is never a given. And the Administrative Committee would never be forgotten nor surpassed for having the vision and approving the funding for the most ambitious project ever: The Project.
The DNA virus was perfected and readied for distribution. Vessels spread out across the galaxy to bless all the lesser species with a soupçon of Ktak. A grand celebration – the grandest ever – was held the day the distribution was complete. Glorious visions were exchanged of the species that were improved. Speculation about the possible futures of all their children was put forth verbally.
Now all they had to do was wait, so they could begin Phase 2: Introduce themselves to their semi-related children. Just wait, which they did for three hundred thousand years.
Time changes us all. Even the glorious Ktak, perfection personified. By the time Phase 2 was to begin, very few Ktak still had the ambition or interest to pursue the follow-up. Those three dozen or so who were interested fanned out to the aforementioned planets. A couple of planets had met an unfortunate end. Several species had shown remarkable technological progress; several showed no progress; most clustered in the middle. Sigh. A bell curve. An ordinary bell curve. The Ktak had hoped for better results, so they would not have to wait any longer. They had begun to realize that time was not their friend.
In addition to accepting the disappointing results, there was one specific challenge Phase 2 needed to meet. Of all the species they had infected – no, no, not infected, blessed – with their DNA, only one clearly had the ability to communicate neurally. And Rrannimm, the planet where that species lives, was going to meet an unfortunate end within a few generations. Rrannimm was shortly to enter an area of the galaxy chock-full of asteroids and other debris. Good-bye Rrannimmese. They were among those species at the wrong side of the bell curve; they could not possibly find a solution in time, if ever.
If not for the neural communication, Rrannimm could fall into a black hole for all the Ktak cared. Ktak were not cursed with either of the twin faults of sentimentality and compassion. But the neural communication – that was special. That was the essence of what set the Ktak apart and above all others, that and self-love. Oh, and pride. So how to guarantee the Rrannimmese would survive long enough to come to deserve this special blessing?
Not since Phase I of The Project had the Ktak engaged in such lively debate, and a new committee was formed to make a plan. They called it "The Plan." Still no nuance – what did you expect?
Even the Ktak in the most glorious of their glory days never had the technology to move a star system out of the way of catastrophe, although two Ktak made the argument that this was a worthy project, despite its exorbitant expense, due to the high probability of additional technologies being developed from their efforts. This argument was rejected by the rest of the committee due to its being entirely beside the point.
Others did the math for eliminating the debris field in its entirety. The odds were better but not good enough. Too much effort for probable eventual failure.
What was left but to destroy each asteroid that became an actual, verifiable threat. Between the interesting math and the enormous explosions, this approach garnered support from all comers. Who doesn't love enormous explosions! Any party poopers who don't love enormous explosions are exactly the type who love the interesting math. Win/Win! This would be fun to implement, no doubt about it. What a great idea! Design and build a system, make sure the operating power is permanently regenerating, make sure the explosive power is adequate for all asteroid shapes and sizes to be turned to dust.
- Should the system be orbital or land-based?
What a great question!
Arguments ensued for many days. Land-based won.
- Should the system be automatic or manually controlled?
What a stupid question! How can you even call yourself a Ktak? Quit your clacking and listen. The Rrannimmese are Stone Age. If they were forced to interact with splendid Ktak technology in order to save their miserable planet and selves, perhaps it would inspire them to achieve, stimulate their curiosity, and use their magnificent Ktak-given neural capacity for its rightful purpose: to speak glowingly of the Ktak. What a brilliant question! We bow to your superior intellect.
So the system was to be land-based, solar-powered, its innards underground and protected by that fascinating and impenetrable mineral on Reynos 3. The components were built on Ktak, shipped to Rrannimm, and installed with minimal loss of life.
The Ktak whose idea it was to have a land-based system was named Tki, and Tki it was who teleported to Rrannimm to explain the purpose of the shiny new system. Unsurprisingly, many delays had occurred with the system's design, construction and installation, so by the time Tki arrived for deployment and training, debris had already begun pelting the surface of Rrannimm with some regularity. The Rrannimmese took to their protection system like Ktak to, well, Ktak. A single Rrannimmese was in charge, and an apprentice was ready to take over when ready or needed. Tki didn't worry about how the Rrannimmese handled the process, so long as the Ktak were no longer bothered. Patience seemed to be given shorter shrift now.
In fact, time had become the enemy of the Ktak. None are immune to evolution, nor does evolution necessarily imply improvement of the species. Evolution concerns itself not with morality or ethics, but only with survival and reproduction. At some point in the next hundred thousand years of waiting for their semi-beloved children to join them on the pedestal of greatness, the Ktak mutated, one of them possessing a version of neural communication that was fatal. Fatal to the other Ktak who did not possess it, that is.
Stories, fables, myths – these are known by many species throughout the galaxy. They may or may not teach a lesson or serve as a warning; they may simply be entertaining. But the Ktak knew nothing of stories, fables or myths. Neural communication only transmitted that which was true, that which had happened. The mutation allowed the transmission of that which was false, had not, could not happen, that which was not believed, sincerely or otherwise. The mutation led to pain and torment, distrust and betrayal, and civil war.
The remaining Ktak, all of whom inherited the mutation over the course of many generations, came to live small lives in small spaces underground, below their ruined planet. The population grew smaller, their ambitions shriveled. Grandiose plans gave way to abduction of helpless specimens of primitive species to tease and terrify and torture with images and illusions. The Ktak were never nice people. They never would be. They had become petty and cruel monsters.
Many of the species they blessed so long ago have developed the very technologies the Ktak hoped they would, have formed a Federation the Ktak expected to lead, are exploring spaces perilously close to Ktak itself. The Ktak, for all their patience, ran out of time for themselves.