THE LOST YEARS
by Soledad
EPISODE 01: THE JOY MACHINE
For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Prologue.
Author's notes:
The city-building of Aeropolis has been inspired by a report I read somewhen about extreme skyscrapers in Japan. As before, descriptions of the refitted Enterprise follow the blueprints of The Star Fleet Technical Manual by Franz Joseph.
The activities of Colonel Tigh in this chapter are related to my other story, "The Lost Warrior", which is in the Battlestar Galactica section.
CHAPTER 07 – AEROPOLIS – ONE
Tigh and Uhura returned to their quarters, with the intention to refresh their knowledge about Thimsel, its history and the supposed environmental data. Tigh also wanted to compose a preliminary report for the Quorum of Twelve – the ruling body of the New Colonies preferred to be up-to-date about everything of potential importance concerning the Federation – and a personal one for Sire Adama. The former commander of the Galactica and its fugitive fleet might have handed over his duties to his son and successor, but he still kept a close eye on everything that might influence the Colonies. Besides, Tigh still trusted his judgement more than anyone else's.
Activating the independent comm station in their living room, he saw in surprise that there had been several subspace calls during their absence. And they'd come through the secured diplomatic channel that connected him with the New Colonies, too! This specific connection had been established for him because he'd lived with Uhura on Earth and needed a way to reach his fellow councillors and vice versa.
"It seems people have been busy at home," he said to Uhura, showing her the list of calls.
"An official communiqué from President Darius?" Uhura raised an eyebrow. "Seems important."
"I wonder," Tigh replied doubtfully, opening the message. The new President of the Twelve Worlds had some fairly… unusual ideas about the future. But at least he was an honest dreamer.
It was an official communiqué indeed, announcing the upcoming marriage of President Darius with the lady Droxine Plasus of Ardana.
"Well, that's actually a surprise," Tigh commented dryly.
"Why?" Uhura asked. "Ardana has been involved in the rebuilding of your colonies since the beginning; a marriage of convenience to strengthen the alliance sounds reasonable."
"Perhaps," Tigh allowed, "but, you see, we're speaking of President Darius here – a man who'd been openly flit since his coming of age. I'm more than a little surprised that he'd take such a drastic step, just for political advantages."
"He's been openly… what?" Uhura frowned.
"I'm sorry," Tigh apologized. "It's derogatory slang for men who're interested in their own gender – not generally used in polite conversation. What I wanted to say is that President Darius is… how do you say it? Oh, yes; he's homosexual, and he's always been very open about it. Now, I won't deny that the political situation is tense back home, but I'm still shocked that he'd agree to Seal with a woman, just to strengthen his position. A traditional Kobolian Sealing is a lifelong commitment – there's no divorce possible like by civilian marriages."
"Well, he must be really desperate if he agreed to marry Droxine, of all people," Uhura said snidely.
"You know her?" Tigh asked. Uhura shrugged.
"Not personally," she said, "only by reputation – but that's more than enough. She's the spoiled, pampered daughter of High Advisor Oiran Plasus, the de facto leader of Ardana. She's very pretty, very well-educated, considered a talented musician – but, in fact, she's just a useless little toy in her father's hand, always on the search for excitement, to somehow make her boring life in idle luxury more interesting. You should read the captain's log from Stardate 5818.4; it tells everything. Including the story how she'd practically thrown herself at Spock, and almost succeeded. If you consider discussions about 'the parabolic intersection of dimension with dimension' as foreplay, that is."
"She's a scientist, too?" Tigh asked.
"I doubt it," Uhura said, "but perhaps she reads a lot and is talented at keeping up appearances. Everyone can discuss scientific theorems with a large enough vocabulary, without understanding the actual science behind them."
Tigh gave her a curious look. He'd never seen her so venomous – she was usually more forgiving towards other women.
"You seem to dislike Siress Droxine very much," he said.
"I dislike what she stands for," Uhura replied grimly. "The idea that a small circle of privileged ones live in idle pleasure, while the majority has to labour in those hellhole zienite mines under the planet surface. The idea that women use nothing but their bodies, brought to perfection by artificial means, to strengthen the positions of their fathers or husbands. That they are sold like cattle for a promising alliance."
"Perhaps she agreed to this Sealing freely," Tigh offered mildly, incapable to believe that such practices would be tolerated on a Federation world.
Uhura shook her head. "Ardanan women don't have a will," she said. "They're not allowed to have one. Ironically, the Troglyte women labouring in the mines are more the equals of their males than the aristocrats in the cloud city."
"Do you think I need to warn President Darius?" Tigh asked in concern. "It's still not too late for him to back off. The Sealing isn't scheduled till the day after tomorrow."
Uhura thought about that for a moment. Then she shook her head again.
"No, I don't think so," she said. "She'll play the role of the perfect little First Lady for your President very convincingly. She'll be loyal to him, she'll accept his… other interests, she'll give him children if that's what he wants, and here mere presence will ensure the alliance between Ardana and your Colonies."
"Yes, but whom will she be more loyal to? The President or her own people?" Tigh asked.
Uhura shrugged. "That I can't say. And that's something you perhaps should warn your President about."
"I will," Tigh said, "although it may be that he already knows. He's no fool – just young and new the office."
"Then he needs all the help you can offer." Uhura agreed. "Who else has called?"
"A lot of people," Tigh replied, "but it's mostly the usual reports and communiqués and stuff like that. Except… now that's odd!"
"What?" Uhura asked. Tight pointed at a coded message.
"Look at this," he said. "This is a Code Blue message from Omega. The really odd thing is, though, that it's been sent from the personal comm station of Commodore Hunter, the military governor of Deep Space Station Epsilon-7. Why should he do that?"
"The comm station of a Starbase commander is specifically shielded against outside tampering," Uhura reminded him. "The access codes are changed randomly, and the comm unit uses an advanced DNA scan before it allows access. It seems that your Colonel Omega has something confidential to tell."
"That was evident for me as soon as I saw the Code Blue mark," Tigh said grimly. "I haven't seen a Code Blue since I left with you for Earth."
"Perhaps it has to be something with President Darius' upcoming marriage?" Uhura guessed.
"Possibly, but unlikely," Tigh shook his head. "Unless he discovered something sinister plan behind the planned Sealing, that is."
"You better check out the message," Uhura suggested. "I'll talk to the comm labs in the meantime to se how far they've got."
She turned to leave him alone, but Tigh caught her arm, holding her back.
"Uhura," he said seriously, "you are my wife. Whatever concerns me, it concerns you as well. That's how our people see things, and they'll expect you to be well informed about Colonial politics. Please, stay. I don't like to load more burden onto your shoulder, but… that's how things are done back home."
"All right," Uhura pulled up a chair, trying not to show too much eagerness. To be frank, the affairs of the New Colonies fascinated her – she just didn't want to intrude.
Tigh entered his personal code and opened the message. Colonel Omega's patrician face was unusually grim on the big viewscreen – as a rule, the man didn't lose his unflappable calm easily, so his obvious agitation was a bad sign.
"Colonel," he said without preamble, "I've found out something really… disturbing. I don't dare to give you any details, not even through this secured channel. Dr. M'Benga has a record of everything we've learned so far. As I'm recording this message for delayed transmission before returning to the Galactica, he might even know more when you meet him. Ask him about the lost warrior. Give my regards to Siress Uhura. Omega out."
"Well, that was… mysterious," Uhura commented. It seems that Ben has the key to the mystery. Small wonder; he's spent the last two years in your sector. You should seek him out,"
"I will," Tigh said," but that has to wait. We need to gain some clarity in the Thimsel issue first."
"Do you want me to talk to Ben for you?" Uhura offered.
Tigh shook his head. "He won't tell you anything. I'm certain that Omega gave him very specific orders. I'm the only one the doctor will hand out the data chips. I'll go looking for him as soon as I can, but first we need to check out the data your people have recorded. Sire Adama will surely be interested in it."
"It's not much so far, I'm afraid," Uhura admitted. "Perhaps we'll learn more during the next meeting."
When – exactly two hours later – they gathered again, this time in the briefing room, the science section was indeed able to provide extensive new data.
"Our suspicions have been confirmed, Captain," Xon reported. "The surface temperature has been increased by an average of two point six three degrees Celsius. Terraforming activities have apparently been stopped for at least six to eight standard years, and even the upholding of the status quo seems to have been neglected. Extensive mining activities, on the other hand, have been increased tenfold, and in various regions of the planet. Look out for the domes housing the industrial facilities – they can be found all over the planet surface."
He displayed on the large viewscreen the picture of a reddish brown planet, the monotony of which was only broken by the wide, greenish ocean separating the eastern and western hemispheres, north from the equator. The mining and refining domes were scattered across the landmasses like silver dots and seemed to span a shimmering network all around the planet.
"These processing plants are fully automated," Xon continued, "and they require only a small number of supervising personnel. Unlike the greenhouses and farming facilities on the southern hemisphere, which would theoretically require a numerous human crew."
"They… would require?" Kirk echoed in surprise. "Theoretically?"
Xon glanced at T'Pel, including her in the discussion. Such aspects were her field of expertise, after all.
"According to our readings, those agricultural facilities have been abandoned approximately nine standard years ago," the sociologist explained. "It does not seem to have been a conscious decision, though, more a slow decreasing of activities in agriculture that had dragged on for several years. Currently, the entire population of Thimsel is concentrated in a single city by the name of Aeropolis and consumes exclusively synthetic food."
"That's perverse," McCoy grumbled. "They've got an entire goddamn planet to their disposal and they stuff themselves full of chemicals?"
"What kind of city is this?" Kirk asked, ignoring his old friend's ramblings with practiced ease. McCoy was rambling about something all the time, if for no other reason than in order to stay trained at it. But nobody gave him a hard time because of that custom. To be honest, most people were so used to it by now that they barely even heard him.
"It is not an actual city in the traditional sense of the word," T'Pel replied, "but a single building in the middle of Thimsel's only ocean. The building is two kilometres high, has five hundred levels and room for three hundred thousand inhabitants. According to the biosignals, that is the number of people currently living in the city… well, more or less. They are still two thousand persons short of having the city full."
"That's strange," Sulu said, clearly surprised. "Two years ago the colony reported only sixteen thousand inhabitants."
"That is an interesting problem," T'Pel agreed. "Either the report from two years ago had been falsified, or the colony has experienced an incredible wave of migration in the recent two standard years. That, or a true explosion of population growth."
"That's highly unlikely," McCoy shook his head. "Unless every single woman on Thimsel has given sixfold births, and that twice in a row."
"I think we can assume that Thimsel has already sent falsified reports to the Federation two years ago," Tigh concluded. "Or else they have been taken over by some outside force. In any case, the environmental disaster must be the result of the extensive mining activities, I'd say."
"The readings make such an interpretation possible, "Xon agreed. "The possibility of a direct connection between those two factors is approximately 97.6 5 per cent.
"I wonder how they managed to create a building like that," Chekov shook his head in amazement, ignoring the statistical probabilities completely. One got used to that sort of thing while working with Vulcans.
Scott shrugged. "That's not such a big deal," he said. "Skyscrapers like that have already been built on Earth in the twenty-first century; in Japan, if I'm not mistaken. Thimsel has geothermic energy in abundance, and if the Tellarites helped them, it was done like a snap. Tellarite construction robots are said to work true wonders."
Xon shook his head. "That is not a Tellarite design," he said. "Nor do their construction robots work in such extreme heights."
"Besides, it's not so much a matter of method but a matter of motivation," Sulu added. "Why would people who have an entire planet to their disposal feel the need to crowd together in a tower amidst the ocean?"
"Perhaps it wasn't their idea at all," Krsna offered quietly. "Someone was obviously looking for a method to get the entire population under tight control. Such a completely isolated city is the best prison imaginable. Have you been able to find Denebian lifesigns in that… tower, Mr. Xon?"
"No, sir," the Vulcan replied calmly, "and no Tellarite ones, either."
"What?" McCoy's head snapped up in alarm. "Does it mean that only humans have been left on the entire planet?"
Xon stirred in his seat, uncertainly.
"Well," he said, "humans and Centaurians read very similarly from this distance. It is possible that Aeropolis still has a limited number of Centaurian inhabitants, but they do not form a separated group, so that they would not appear as anomalous readings."
"But what about Denebians and Tellarites?" Krsna asked in concern.
"There are none on Thimsel," Xon replied, "unless they live in subterranean quarters that are shielded against Starfleet-issue scanners. However, there are small colonies in their early building phase on both the planets K'rta 2 and Gartov. Both planets seem to be inhabited and show definite signs of colonization. There is a possibility of 86.6 3 per cent that the Denebian and Tellarite colonists have been moved there ahead of schedule.
"By force, most likely," McCoy growled.
"About that I have no data to my disposal," Xon replied with unshakable calmness; then he turned to Kirk. "May I make a suggestion, Captain?"
Kirk shrugged. "Be my guest, Lieutenant."
For a moment, Xon frowned in confusion, clearly not having any idea in what manner he could probably become the captain's guest; a moment later, though, he recognized the figurative speech and nodded.
"I would suggest, sir, that we seek contact to the two smaller colonies first," he said. "Before we decide what kind of action needs to be considered concerning Thimsel itself, it could prove useful to gather information about what we might find there."
"An excellent idea, Captain!" Krsna cried before Kirk could have answered. "My primary orders are to learn about the fate of our colony anyway. Could you give me a shuttle and an escort? I'm willing to leave as soon as this meeting is adjourned."
Kirk very obviously hesitated, which surprised everyone who knew him well. In any other case, he'd have been the first to visit the neighbouring colonies, looking for clues. Of course, that had been in the times when the admiralty hadn't prohibited starship captains to lead the landing parties personally. James T. Kirk wasn't the kind of man who liked to let others have all the fun and collect all the laurels.
"You don't need a shuttle, Ambassador," Tigh intervened smoothly, before Kirk could found a reason to reject the Denebian's request. I'll be happy to take you there aboard the Antares; she's a courier ship, faster and safer than a shuttle, and my staff is schooled in Starfleet procedures."
"Thank you, Colonel," the Denebian answered in relief. "I gratefully accept your generous offer."
"It's more about curiosity than about generosity, to be honest," Tigh admitted with one of his customary half-smiles. "I've never seen a Denebian colony before… and I'd like to."
"Oh, certainly," Krsna said in delight. "We might not travel a lot, but we love visitors."
"Captain," Decker turned to Kirk, "I'm asking for permission to visit the Tellarite colony, sir."
"Request denied," Kirk replied promptly. "Should the Tellarites have been moved there by force, their reaction to humans would certainly be hostile."
"That won't be a problem, Captain," Decker assured. "I can deal with Tellarites. The first officer of the new Constellation, where I served for over a year, was a Tellarite; I had to learn how to work with her and her people. In fact, we got along rather… amiably, all things considered."
Kirk hesitated for another moment – then he gave in with obvious reluctance. He wasn't used to learn things second-hand, but the new regulations were very clear in that particular point: the captain was to remain on board, where he was safe, and coordinate all landing party activities from the main bridge.
"Very well," he said morosely. "Form two landing parties, Number one. Assign a security team to the Antares and take the Copernicus for your team. She's one of the new series, much better maneuverable than the old crafts. Both teams should keep contact with Commander Uhura all the time. She'll monitor your activates and transfer return orders if necessary. Don't take any risks – this is a recon mission, nothing more. Star when the ships are prepared. Dismissed."
"Captain Kirk apparently wanted to make sure that you won't be able to accompany me on this trip," Tigh commented dryly, entering the turbolift cabin in Uhura's company. "Deck R, Level 18; Shuttlecraft Hangar," he told the 'lift, and it moved on obediently.
"You took the decision from him; things like that always hurt his pride," Uhura shrugged, enlacing her arm with his. "Besides, he hates it that the new regs won't allow him to hop down onto every single planet on our way and start interfering with the life of the people who live there. Not hat I'd blame him for hating to be confined to the bridge," she added fairly, "it frustrates the Kolker out of me, too, as Dr. McCoy would put it. But he's the captain, and rank has its flip side as well as its advantages, hasn't it?"
"Well, if you'd be willing to use the advantages of your position as the wife of a foreign diplomat, I could take you with me now," Tigh pointed out reasonably. "But you1ve insisted to return to regular duty."
This was a problem they'd discussed repeatedly during the recent years, without having found a solution that would have satisfied them both.
"Exactly," the lift stopped, but Uhura manually blocked the doors for one more moment of privacy." Take care, amuntu, and don't stay away longer than necessary."
"I won't; the Lords of Kobol may witness my promise," Tigh laughed and embraced her in a tight hug. They stayed like that for a moment, sharing a kiss, then the colonel unblocked the doors and stepped out onto the hangar deck.
Uhura sighed, waited for the doors to close again, then glanced at the ceiling and ordered, "Main bridge."
TBC
