מנא ,מנא, תקל, ופרסין Mene Mene Tekel u-Pharsin

The Writing on the Wall

"It has been counted and counted, weighed and divided."

How we deal with death is at least as important as how we deal with life. -James Kirk

In this galaxy, there's a mathematical probability of three million Earth-type planets. And in all of the universe, three million million galaxies like this. And in all of that... and perhaps more, only one of each of us. - Leonard McCoy

It started, simply enough, with a miraculous soil treatment to the alien ground Tarsus provided its new colonists. It wasn't simply that the soil wasn't fit chemically to take non-Tarsean agriculture, but there was a native virus that decidedly did not like sharing their turf with anything off-planet. The treatment didn't wipe out the virus, since they were necessary for the native wildlife to continue. However, it did allow the virus to treat Terran, Vulcan, and Andorian crops as Tarsean, which was enough for the two-thousand settlers who came to Tarsus, fifteen years prior.

And it wasn't the mutagen, which was later said to have brought such a blight that not even stasis-sealed foods were saved from the ravenous virus, to have caused many of the old and young to grow ill and die from malnutrition. It became the devastating warning which Kodos had claimed for his reason to kill half of the population he had sworn himself to protect as governor. But his claim was unsubstantiated and he knew better than most that it was.

Earth Date 2246, August 2nd, Two Months prior to The Tarsus IV Massacre.

"Jimmy, put your coat back. I know you heard that it's winter where we're going, but the place runs hotter than Iowa. Bring a long-sleeved shirt. If there's a chill, we'll just layer."

"Okay, okay. I know, I know!" Jim Kirk huffed a sigh and tossed a cigarette lighter into the bag and a shirt on top of it. He didn't smoke, but his dad had, before tobacco was banned. Before George Kirk, Sr. got himself killed in action to save everyone but himself. Jimmy found himself pausing one moment, smiling. Or smirking? Before he shook his head out of reverie.

So 'Uncle Frank' (or 'Joe Blob' as Sam had liked to call him) had finally crossed the line. It was worth losing his dad's classic Corvette. It was worth getting smacked so hard Jimmy swore he'd lost teeth. It was worth it, because the idiot had hit James T. Kirk in front of his arresting officer. The Amarant was in the sector and came home early because of the incident. That it affected her ship had upset Winona nearly as much as finding her younger son in jail and abused by her second husband. They had only contracted their marriage for three years, but she'd never actually seen the abuse. It happened while she was off-world, and the man had sweet-talked her into thinking the boys had made it up for attention. But Sam took all the blows. That is, until Jimmy drove their dad's convertible over the cliff of the quarry.

Jimmy didn't know if he'd ever forgive Winona for leaving him with the madman. Sam didn't know if he'd ever forgive either of his parents for leaving him with his grandparents in the first place, or himself for leaving home when he had. Jimmy very well could have died that day. Uncle Frank had driven them both to the brink and when Sam took flight, Jim stayed and fought the only way he could. It made Sam a bit jealous, a bit thankful, and very concerned. When he came back, he yelled at his younger brother, You're gonna get yourself killed one day, doing that!

Better to die free than live under thumb. Jim had to wonder, though, what it'd be like, living off-world. Starships didn't allow children. He'd been a bit of a surprise to the crew of the Kelvin. A deep-space survey vessel wasn't exactly the prime environment for a pregnant mother, but it'd another year before they'd be back on Earth. His parents had wanted so much for him to be born on their home-planet, that Winona took medication to stave off the birth until they were on solid ground. The Romulan ship that appeared out of nowhere changed everything.

"Jimmy!"

"COMING! Sheesh!" The young teen slammed his suitcase shut and dragged it behind him. With some help from Sam, Jimmy and his brother loaded up the transport and frowned as the robot officer climbed off his hovercycle. "Oh, man... Not him again."

"Whad'you do, Jimmy?" Sam furrowed his brows. The black-clad robot approached them, and Jimmy brought up his hands in a defensive posture.

"Whatever it is, Officer? I didn't mean it." The bot just folded his arms and stared back. "Honest...?" Nothing. "...Um... No hard feelings?" Jim gave his best grin, his brows raising at the same time.

Winona came down from the house, slinging her purse over her shoulder. "Jimmy, the police said that you could go off-world so long as you were under supervision. They sent traffic officer Grimm to do that."

"Why can't you just watch me?"

"Because I have duties on board ship and when we get to Tarsus."

"Okay, so why can't one of your Starfleet buddies watch me?"

"Because they have duties, too." Jim kicked at the dirt and furrowed his brows.

"This is bullshit!"

And for the first time since the bot addressed him during arrest, he-it-thing spoke again, "You must desist from delinquent behavior, immediately. Failure to do so will be met with additional time allotted to your parole."

"OH COME ON!" Jimmy threw his hands open wide, anger clearly present on his features.

"One hour has now been added to your parole." Jim grated his teeth and turned around, sliding into the back seat and slamming the door behind him.

"Lads, come in for supper 'fore it gets cold!" Siobhan Riley had just about had it with the food rations that the grocery was giving them. She'd been thankful for caring for her own garden, out of which, the herbs and vegetables improved the taste of the tinned and packed food.

"Aye, Mam!" came the unison holler of William and Kevin Riley. The younger of the two fetched his hat off his head and tossed it onto the hat rack before running to catch up to his older brother, as their mother reminded them to wash up first.

"S'terrible, that blight up in Commonwealth. Hope it doesn't reach down here a'tall." Thomas Riley grunted an affirmative as he graded papers at the table. "Now, Thomas. I know you have stacks and piles of homework t'be grading, but we agreed we-"

"-would put aside everything for family supper. I know, love. Last one, I promise."

"Keavy, where are your brothers? Make sure they're not into any tomfoolery, now, sweet. And go wash up, again. What did I tell you about playing with Measels just before supper?"

"If you play with an animal, you haveta wash-up all over again. Aye, Mam~..." The youngest of three put down the mongrel pup in her arms and nearly ran into her brothers on her way back to the washroom. William caught her and set her on her feet. "I gotta wash up~." Keavy ran past them both as her brothers went to help their mother set the table.

"Thomas." The Irishman looked up over his glasses. His lovely wife, despite having kept baby weight from their children, was none-the-less quite the imposing figure when she needed to be. She said nothing, just raised her brows until double-yous lined her forehead. Thomas cleared his throat and placed the stacks of plas-film neatly into a briefcase, clicking it shut just as the boys finished setting the table. He smiled at her and she sighed and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

"They work you too hard, dear."

Thomas folded his glasses and stored them in his shirt pocket. "They let me come home, have dinner with my family. I can't very well complain, love." They kissed and Mother Riley sat down before their family prayer. When it was done, they crossed themselves and began serving their meal.

"Governor, here's the report from Einsof station. The Sephirot project is nearly finished and they hope to begin testing later this week." The red-haired politician took the PADD from his subordinate and browsed through the findings.

"Thank you, Yevgeny. Was there anything else?"

"No, sir."

"Alright then. Carry on."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Kodos allowed his eyes to weigh down on the man a bit longer than the other would have liked. Typical Starfleet sheep. Heels clicked against tile as Kodos walked from one room in the governor's mansion to another. He took a seat and asked his secretary to patch him in to Erona Seville, his connection to The Program back on Taris VI.

"Sydney."

"Hello, Erona. Good to see your lovely face, my dear."

"You flatter me. What can I do for you?"

"It seems the antiviral suppressant isn't working on some crops in Commonwealth. My directors tell me that the native virus Anxenoten has mutated and no longer reads off-world plants as benign."

"How about native plants?"

"Good as always, but most people won't eat Tarsean food. The majority of it has a poisonous effect that takes years of building up an immunity. Nearly three-fourths of our colonists have settled within five years and haven't bothered with the local cuisine."

"Can the poison be removed?"

Kodos shook his head. "No. Not without losing the nutritional value as well. What's more, it seems that the poison is what the virus was using to determine if the species was native or not. We managed to trick the virus originally, but now..."

"I know. Is there any way the outbreak of this new strain can be contained?"

"I've already seen to that, but it's highly unlikely to work. The moment a good wind comes in, or a storm..."

"What about a transport with new foods?"

"The virus has eaten through stores of food, in Commonwealth. Tins, jars, stasis boxes. It doesn't seem to matter. Within moments of being opened, the food spoils, becoming unfit for consumption. The only thing that does seem to work is cooking the food with Tarsean herbs and vegetables."

"And that only serves to poison the people eating it."

"Correct."

"Is there no antidote to the poison?"

"Erona, we've been working on an antitoxin since before the colony was first settled."

The diplomat on screen gave a flourish of her hand and offered, "Governor, might I suggest that the colonists should relocate to Tarsus III until such time as this crisis is averted?"

Kodos smiled wanly. "That sounds reasonable on paper, doesn't it? Except that our relations with Tarsus III aren't stellar. The Premier won't even meet to speak with me. Scoffs and calls me an elitist and a eugenicist. Plus, now, they're worried that the blight would carry over to their world. I can't say as I blame them, for that reason." This seemed to disappoint his Tarisian friend, who certainly hoped to help in some fashion.

"No one envies your position, Governor. I'll see what connections I can make here and we'll send a transport."

"No offense, Erona, but your fastest ship would arrive here in four months. I doubt we could wait that long." The woman's face fell as realization sunk in.

"I didn't realize the situation was that bad." Kodos gripped the side of his monitor and slid back into his seat.

"Please don't let on that it is. If word should get back to anyone here, there'd be mass chaos." Erona Seville gave a curt nod.

"...Of course, Governor."

I have no idea how long this story is going to run, but I wanted to show a few different sides to the same situation. I hope it's easy to follow. I'm not used to writing for an audience outside small circles. Please bare with me and I'll do my best to learn from the constructive criticism. Thanks!

-TD

P.S. Tossed in some Easter eggs. See if you can crack them open!