A/N: You might be able to identify the first set of visitors to Luluan with good detective work based on the details revealed in this chapter. Also, if you happen to catch the resemblance to a certain other Swedish character... yes, it is intentional! I couldn't resist throwing in a little homage to one of my favorite literary characters.
If you'd like to skip past all the alien investigation content because worldbuilding isn't your bag and you just want to get to the character stuff, last scene is a Cornwell one I'm particularly fond of. (And another scene that was written months ago. So glad to finally be able to post it!)
For once, as it flew between the stars, the Triton was abuzz with activity.
After leaving Luluan, both the Triton and the Calgary set a course for Vega, where the two ships offloaded their complement of enterprising criminals and the Gentonian ship was impounded. Assuming Egarell did not sell the ship to finance some form of legal defense, there the Gentonian ship would remain until Egarell or one of his cohorts secured their freedom by verdict or time served.
The Triton did not hang around to discover which. The moment the last prisoner was offloaded, they set a new course at maximum speed for Risa.
There was no real need for urgency. The Starway offices on Risa had already been raided and Beldehen Venel and several others taken into custody. The facilities on Risa were perfectly adequate to the task of detaining the offenders, but the Risian authorities did not like impounding off-worlders because it went counter to their image as an idyllic vacation spot. The decision was made to move Venel and the others to the facility on Vega. Lorca immediately volunteered the Triton for this duty.
Assuming they continued at max speed, they would be at Risa in a couple of days. If the ship's engines ended up needing a day or three to recover from the strain of such a taxing flight as a result, so be it. The Triton was an old ship on the verge of being decommissioned. It could hardly be expected to turn back around too quickly, and Lorca felt the crew had earned a bit of vacation.
Even if they had not, they were certainly earning it now. Every department was working overtime. Between their sensors and the Calgary's, they had amassed a veritable treasure trove of data about Luluan, and it took time to sift through and analyze it all.
And then there was Lalana. He might have dropped her on Vega, but Risa seemed the better choice. It was just as much a travel hub, this afforded her more time to assist with their investigative endeavors, and Risa was, by its own admission, a paradise. What better introduction to the wonders of the Federation?
Sitting in the captain's chair, he reviewed the latest updates Arzo had made to the report on Luluan's planetary properties. The scans had turned up some interesting things. He was thoroughly engrossed to the point where if he had been doing his usual pacing, he probably would have tripped over Carver's navigation console.
Of all the things he had expected to read about Luluan, dead last was that the planet showed signs of terraforming on a massive and advanced scale. Its orbit was perfect. Artificially perfect. It deviated with such slightness from perfection that it had no seasons.
And then there was the star. One of the first things Benford had said upon Lorca's return was that without that enhanced beacon, they never would have found Luluan. The red star was in a particularly dense spot of the Briar Patch, and like the sun on a cloud-covered day, was visible only from a few directions through gaps in the clouds. How anyone had found it in the first place, they did not know. Probably completely by accident.
As for why these invaders had tried so hard to colonize the planet, Arzo had a strong theory. Luluan was a veritable hotbed of geothermal potential. The planet radiated heat. Its little red sun accounted for only part of the surface temperature. The fact that it was not also racked by massive seismic disturbances was apparently a further result of the terraforming. The structure of its internal ocean seemed to regulate the planet's internal pressure. Again, terraforming.
The task of identifying Luluan's first invaders initially fell to Larsson. In this regard, Lalana was not very helpful. "Hla-pu," she identified them, which did not match anything on file, and she reported they looked much like humans but with very advanced technology, which also did not help. A lot of species in the quadrant shared the same basic structure and features as humans. Given the timeline, it definitely wasn't humans unless secretly some aliens really had been scooping them up in centuries past. Larsson gave up on the search almost immediately. "What do I look like, a detective?" he grunted.
"You look like an officer on my ship," said Lorca. "But if this is too hard a task for you..." He hoped a small dig at Larsson's capabilities would inspire the lieutenant to try harder.
It did not. Larsson made a small humming noise and shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly. He failed to see any point in wasting his time when it might be better spent elsewhere. "It is too hard. I want to focus on history."
Lorca gave the task to Kerrigan, who tackled it with great enthusiasm, hopeless as it seemed.
The other impossible task was Umale's box. Arzo speculated it might be a data storage device because it had a localized energy field that seemed to contain data in it, but he could not ascertain what the data was or if the data even related to the box's primary function. It would have to be transferred to a research station for further evaluation.
There were some facts that could finally be established. They had located the comet used to track cycles on Luluan, and the length of the planet's days, and were able to confirm with complete and total accuracy that the lului day was thirty-five hours long and a comet cycle was one hundred and twenty-one Earth years, so Lalana was nine hundred and forty-four years old, and Umale was coming up on a hundred thousand.
Which was entirely an exception and not a rule, because when lului bred, it killed them.
It wasn't death quite the way humans knew it and the lului did not view it as such. It was more of a recycling. When the comet arrived, the lului gathered into various masses on the yellow grasslands of the planet (these grasslands seemed to be designated meeting areas) and essentially turned themselves into cellular mush. Something happened involving the non-differentiated organs being taken apart and triggered into a gestative or regenerative state, like starfish, so that new structures were grown at the expense of the old ones. The result was, however many lului entered the breeding mass, more came out, slightly smaller than before. After gorging on worms farmed from underwater, they soon regained standard mass. The guess was that Umale's smaller size was somehow related to this.
It was a perfect method of population control, but it had clear drawbacks. Each "Great Merge" was capable of increasing the population by about twenty percent. The fact that there were four hundred and eighty-seven million lului currently on the planet reflected the fact that seventy percent of the lului had been wiped out by the initial contact with off-worlders, and four eighty-seven was what the lului had managed to recoup in the time since.
It also put something into clear, stark perspective for Lorca: lului were accustomed to choosing the exact time and circumstance of their own death. It really was crucial to them, and if they felt death was preferable to their current or future situation, then they had no qualms about it. Thus Lalaran. Thus, too, Lalana in his ready room.
Russo's voice interrupted Lorca's reading. "Captain, your presence is being requested in sickbay."
The words "requested in sickbay" rarely meant anything good. "Is it an emergency?"
Russo repeated the question to whoever was on the other side of the line and reported, "No, but Dr. Ek'Ez would like to speak with you as soon as possible. He says it's important."
Too important to wait for the latest draft of the medical report? Lorca sighed and vacated the captain's chair. He had been sitting a lot longer than he realized and felt stiff all over. This would be a good chance to stretch his legs, then. "Carver, you have the conn."
Ek'Ez and Li were waiting for him, Li looking grim as ever, and Ek'Ez looking... like something. Lorca had yet to fully unlock the nuances of Kakravite expressions, which were varied, usually had something to do with eye movements, and rarely corresponded to what humans expected them to. Instead, he had to rely on Ek'Ez's tone of voice, which turned out to be excited.
"Captain, Dr. Li has discovered the most amazing thing!"
"What's that?" asked Lorca, crossing his arms and preparing himself for a long explanation before Ek'Ez actually revealed the point.
"We have sequenced Lalana's genome and Dr. Li has found a match! Not a full match, you understand, a partial one, but it gives rise to the most incredible possibilities, and it was more of a match than we ever expected to find. And it was only due to Dr. Li's illustrious ancestor that we were able to make the match at all."
Lorca glanced at Li, wondering what that meant, and if Li's ego really needed the boost she was clearly getting from this roundabout revelation.
"First, let me preface this by saying—" (There it was, the beginning of the real preamble. Lorca tried not to look too bored.) "—it has been extremely difficult to sequence Lalana's genome because, as you will recall, her cells degrade incredibly quickly when removed from the host biomatrix. Assembling even the three percent of the genome we have took thousands upon thousands of cells, each cell providing us with but a small piece of the whole before it turned into, as you humans might say, 'soup.' We had to painstakingly piece together these snippets in order to uncover longer chains of bases. And may I say, it was very gracious of Lalana to provide us these cells, given the cost to her, and I have now suspended any further sequencing."
"Cost?" prompted Lorca.
"As you may recall, the undifferentiated nature of her cells means that each of her cells functions as neural tissue."
Lorca realized what Ek'Ez was saying without needing any further explanation, but was shocked enough that he said nothing, meaning Ek'Ez continued with his usual level of medical explanation for morons.
"Every time we harvest any amount of Lalana's cells, we run the risk of removing her memories, disrupting motor functions, essentially harvesting active brain tissue. While Lalana assures us she has plenty of cells, and cells do naturally replenish themselves over time, the implications of removing material from someone's brain for frivolous research purposes goes against the practices of ethical medicine."
"It's not frivolous," said Li suddenly. "We got a match. We might get even more if we finish the sequence."
"Yes, but the cost," said Ek'Ez lightly, generally unperturbed by his colleague's apparent lack of ethics. "I do not think that the benefits will justify it if we continue. The information we have gleaned is more than enough."
Lorca's voice was like ice. "What information."
"Based on what we have sequenced, Starfleet has encountered a species which shares several strong genetic similarities to lului. When you consider some of Lalana's attributes, it actually makes perfect sense. Her ability to change color, the control she has of her dermal filaments, the compound pupils—"
"Dr. Ek'Ez!" barked Lorca.
Ek'Ez's eyes blinked one after the other. "The Suliban, sir. Her code provided a match to the Suliban."
Lorca froze. He opened his mouth to speak, but it took a moment to get the word out. "...Suliban?"
"More specifically, sir, the Suliban belonging to the Cabal," said Li. "My uncle encountered them on the Enterprise and described green eyes with multiple pupils. That's how I knew to ask Starfleet for the code. It wasn't in the public database."
The Suliban had risen to infamy during the early days of Starfleet when the genetically-modified soldiers of the Suliban Cabal had infiltrated various governments and organizations, threatening stability across the known galaxy. Starfleet had been among their targets. Even now, a hundred years later, the Suliban were still viewed with suspicion by some.
Lorca looked at Ek'Ez. For once he wanted to hear everything the doctor had to say.
Ek'Ez was uncharacteristically silent. "Well?" prompted Lorca expectantly.
Ek'Ez struggled to think of something to say. "It would stand to reason that whoever modified the Suliban possessed tremendous genetic technology. They were able to splice lului genes into the Suliban code, whereas we are barely able to sequence it."
"So they had a lului?" said Lorca.
"I should think so. It is interesting, of course, that they were able to splice these codes together at all. Lului cells are so unlike the cells of most species. It makes me wonder if there isn't some connection between lului and Suliban."
"Which I could confirm if I sequence the rest of the genome," said Li.
"I am not comfortable with further cell harvesting, we have harvested too much already. Absent a medical need, we cannot dissect a patient's brain while they are using it, even if they agree to the procedure," said Ek'Ez, finally displaying what Lorca felt to be a reasonable level of frustration with Li.
"What am I supposed to do with this information?" asked Lorca.
"I was hoping you would tell me what to do with it," said Ek'Ez. "Because of its potentially classified nature, do I put this in my report?"
Lorca left sickbay and resolved never to go back in there if he could help it. He stepped into the turbolift.
Sickbay came to him, in the form of Dr. Li running to catch up. "Sir!"
He put a hand out, holding the turbolift doors. "Yes, doctor?"
She did not step into the turbolift, merely stood in the hall addressing him. "This connection to the Suliban Cabal is too important to let it languish as some footnote in a medical report. Give me permission to continue extracting genetic data from Lalana so I can complete the analysis."
"You heard Ek. It's unethical."
Li pondered that, pouting. "She said she'd be willing to help me. I'm sure we can keep any damage to a minimum."
If there was one thing Lalana's many missteps had made clear, it was that she did not fully understand or appreciate her own limitations. "I'm sure you believe that, and I'm sure Lalana does, but she doesn't always know what's best. Dr. Ek'Ez is the senior medical officer on board this ship, and what he says, goes."
"Yes, but—"
"Look, Samaritan, I want to know more about this connection, just like you do. But there are some lines we in Starfleet cannot cross. The Suliban Cabal were active a hundred years ago. You're telling me you think you're gonna get some actionable intelligence on a hundred-year-old group of terrorists?"
Li stared down at her feet. There were things the captain did not know about the Cabal, things that she was not supposed to know, and she could not tell him why it was so important because doing so would jeopardize the thing she valued most in the world. She swallowed, knowing she was making a mistake, but she had to try all the same. The legacy of her family was at stake. "Just let me harvest a few more cells before we get to Risa. It'll be worth the cost. Whatever the cost is."
"You don't get to decide that," said Lorca flatly, removing his hand from the door. The turbolift slid shut.
It had been obvious from the get-go that Li did not view Lalana as an equal. No matter what Lalana said, did, or was, Li seemed to look at the lului and see an animal that could have beneficial research applications, not a patient, and certainly not a person. Lorca himself had made enough mistakes trying to use Lalana to his advantage. There was no way he was going to let Li repeat that.
But still, Suliban Cabal? Even now, a hundred years on, there were still rumors of more to that chapter of history than the official record provided. Umale had known about the Federation. Did that mean there was another secret to the lului?
The doors opened on the bridge and Lorca immediately swung left to his ready room, proceeded into the bathroom, and vomited into the sink.
Katrina Cornwell reached over to the bedstand and pawed at the signaling, beeping commlink with the sort of foggy-brained clumsiness that suggested she had just been approaching the threshold of a dream and her brain did not appreciate being pulled out of it. "What," she groaned.
"Incoming from the captain of the Triton."
Her eyes fluttered. She answered the comm tech, but not clearly enough for him to understand her. "Put it through!" she repeated, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.
"Ah, I'm sorry, Kat, I didn't mean to wake you!"
There were two key reasons she knew that was a lie. First, he was meticulous about time, particularly when it came to San Francisco. Second, the comm tech would not have put him through unless he insisted it was important, which meant he knew he would wake her, and that waking her had been an entirely intentional part of his agenda.
She staggered over to her desk, feeling her way along in the dim light from the commlink. "It's the middle of the night, Gabriel. Why are you calling?" She recognized the look in his eyes. A thought tugged at her half-awake mind. "Did you think I would be naked?"
He feigned innocence. Badly. "I mean..." He knew her well enough to realize it wasn't wholly out of the realm of possibility.
Oh my god, she thought, sitting down with a sigh. He'd been hoping she was. Thankfully she'd gone to sleep in a tank top and shorts. She checked the time. 23:35. They were scheduled to discuss his full mission reports in seven and a half hours. "What couldn't wait until the morning?"
"About that..."
She sensed instinctively what was coming and gave him a look that said, You wouldn't dare.
He would, of course. "We've gotten a little off-schedule getting these reports ready for the admiral. Since I've been up for the last eighteen hours..."
And she had been asleep for the last hour and a half. "You want me to do the presentation for you."
"Honestly, Katrina, these reports speak for themselves."
She rubbed her eyes. He had done this same thing to her several times over the years, ever since their time at the Academy. One night before a presentation, he called her, fake-coughed and said he felt like he was coming down with something so he might not be able to make it, and to go on without him if so.
At the time, she couldn't figure out why. He liked presentations. He was great at them. He had a natural reservoir of confidence and charisma that usually inspired the people around him to follow his lead.
Turned out he'd been invited to a senior cadet function the night before. To further sell the lie, when she called to check on him in the morning, he actually had been in the infirmary with what she later found out was a massive, massive hangover.
As for why he was doing this now, there would be a reason, a real reason, probably even a halfway-decent one, but over the years she had come to understand that at its core, this was about control. He liked to dictate the terms of his engagements. He probably wasn't even doing this to her consciously.
Sensing she was not entirely convinced, he said, "I promise I'll make it up to you..." He had made it up to her back at the Academy, too. Easily one of the best nights they had ever had together. Guilt was a powerful motivator.
"All right. Give me the highlights." She had long since given up telling him this was going to be the last time. There was no point in lying to him, or to herself.
He launched into an overview of what the strongest areas of the reports were, and where there were weaknesses to avoid. She recorded this information so she didn't have to listen too intently. "The history of the Lului is where this really shines. Now that we have more time with Lalana—"
Even half-asleep, she caught it. "Wait, what? What do you mean, more time?"
"Didn't I mention that? We're just giving her a lift to Risa."
There it was. That was the reason he didn't want to make the presentation. He knew, quite correctly, that this would not go down well with the Admiral, and he didn't feel like dealing directly with the fallout. Not when he could use Cornwell to mitigate the damage. Bad news always sounded best coming from a familiar voice.
Though the circumstances of Starfleet's encounter with the lului had certainly been unique, officially, they had been added to the list of Protected Worlds and Races, with a strict Non-Interference order. The hope was that, in time, Luluan would return to its natural, pre-interference state. (Since Cornwell had not read the reports yet, she did not yet know exactly how ludicrous an aim this was.) Transporting a member of the species off the planet was expressly counter to the protection order.
"You kept her. You kept the lului." Cornwell covered her face with her hands. When her hands fell away, they revealed an expression of intensely annoyed revelation. "Of course you did. She's a massive boost to your ego!" Maybe if it weren't the middle of the night for her she would have been kinder or less honest, but it was, so she wasn't.
"Not everything I do is about my ego!" he exclaimed, immediately incensed.
"Gabriel." She stretched his name out into three judgmental syllables. There was nothing he hated quite like being called out, especially when whatever he was being called out for contained some kernel of the truth.
He sighed in annoyance and defeat. "Look, she was going to kill herself if I left her on the planet. Tried to do it right here in my ready room."
Again, Cornwell was flabbergasted. "What?"
"Started smashing her head on the floor. But it's fine now. I took care of it. Anyway. Have you got the reports?"
"Back up. We need to talk about the fact your alien tried to kill itself. In front of you."
Lorca was a little tired of hearing Lalana described as "his" alien. "As much as I'd love to go twelve rounds of mano a mano psychoanalysis with you right now, it is late there, and I'd like to get some sleep, as I'm sure you would. So if you can confirm you've received the files..."
She glanced over at the desk console. "Seven reports, totaling... two hundred and ninety thousand words!?" The medical and history files were lengthy, as they should be, but his command report alone was almost sixty. There was no way she was going to be able to read it to any extent before the briefing. There was also a classified addendum to the medical report which piqued her interest, but was coded above her clearance level. What was that?
"Good, it's all there." There was an air of finality to his voice, as if he felt it time to terminate the call, but Cornwell wasn't done with him.
"I know you like being thorough, but, these aren't reports, these are—what is this? A love letter? A manifesto?"
He cocked his head. "I'll have you know I am perfectly capable of saying 'I love you' in three words."
"Really," said Cornwell flatly, doubting Lorca had the emotional wherewithal to actually mean it if he did say it.
"And I've got plenty of other ways of letting you know I care that aren't nearly as dry and... cerebral as a bunch of reports." He smirked at her suggestively.
It was too late in the goddamn night for this. She fixed him with an angrily tired glare. "I didn't say it was a love letter to me."
"Well it's certainly not a love letter to Admiral Wainwright," he said, snickering at the idea.
While she hadn't read a word of the reports he'd just given her, she had read all of the reports and logs leading up to this set, and she had a good idea of how to push his buttons. "Tell me again why you kept the lului, Gabriel."
His laughter stopped abruptly. He scoffed. "You need sleep more than I do. You understand she's a sort of... monkey, rat... jellyfish thing, right?" He let her process that description a moment. (Her process determined he was trying much too hard to make his description sound unappealing.) "If I have been overly thorough, it's only because I understand the monumental importance of this mission to Starfleet, and I've taken the mantle of this responsibility—"
"Goodnight, Gabriel," she said, and promptly terminated the call. What an idiot he could be. Obviously, his first love was his job. It was written plainly in everything he did. No one—not her, and not some alien—was ever going to change that.
God, she thought to herself as she crawled back into bed. I am a world-class enabler.