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The Painted Gate
USS Nautilus: Shuttle One Crew, Senior Science Officer Carlin Agran's Log, Supplemental:
I've met up with Doctor Mor and had a chance to investigate Sam's disappearance. It appears a Romulan transporter was used to beam her away. Where to and why, I have no idea. I suspect Matan may have been involved, though it's possible he was trying to save her when he was beamed away himself. Even with a clear Romulan energy signature, I'm not willing to rule out the involvement of these mysterious Oni…yet. Transporting in this heavy polaric energy field should be next to impossible. Hopefully when I met up with Antori, he and I'll be able to figure out how it was done, and how to track it. In the meantime, Doctor Mor and I need to head up the mountain to the rendezvous point.
They took Sam's bow and arrows, and a makeshift torch, and left camp-heading inland up the valley. Carlin and Doctor Mor hadn't gone far from camp when they found a path running up the valley, apparently heading the same direction they were: toward the ruins where Antori waited. It was paved with ancient stones, which caught Mor's eye. A little later, they came upon a wooden bridge arching over a narrow stream.
"Incredible!" said Doctor Mor. "The woodwork's typical of early Iron Age cultures, it might even be Yayoi Period from Jahpan." He brushed a couple pebbles off of the bridge with his shoe. "This would be an excellent discovery, if Starfleet had stuck to the original agreement and provided me with holo-recording services."
"Our original agreement didn't foresee crashing in an ion storm and having my friend kidnapped by crazy natives. We need to keep moving," said Carlin.
Mor huffed, obstinately standing in her way and pulling out his scanner. "Aren't you the least bit curious how this wood is still here, when the culture that produced it faded into history and myth on Earth over 2,000 years ago?"
Carlin had to admit she was curious, but she was also worried for Sam and Antori. "Considering the circumstances, no," she said. "Besides, I've already scanned a similar structure. If it's the same phenomenon here, the wood's in a state of temporal flux due to the presence of heavy concentrations of polaric ions in the cellular structure."
"Of course, that sounds...um." From the look on Mor's face, the explanation had obviously gone over his head. Then, his features lit up. "Wait, you said you found other structures? Other ruins?"
Carlin was afraid to answer that one. Before she could, though, she heard a wolf howl in the distance. Not distant enough, she thought. "I'll show you later, once we get out of this and find Sam."
"I'll never make a worthwhile discovery as long as I'm leashed to you Starfleet types," Mor sulked.
The wolves howled again, and it seemed a little closer this time to Carlin. "We need to focus right now," she said. That's what Antori would say, she thought. "Do you hear those howls?"
The Ferengi rolled his eyes. "I've been hearing howls for the better part of half an hour, Trill. Superior hearing goes with the big lobes," he said, stroking his oversized ears.
Carlin shivered and tugged a lock of hair over her shoulder. "Well, next time you hear them, you might want to mention it. Those are the howls of a large Earth predator called a wolf-they're what attacked me earlier tonight, when you found me..."
She didn't need to finish the explanation. Doctor Mor was already trading his scanner for a phaser as he hurried up the path, away from the howling. "Perhaps I'll, uh… I'll check up ahead!"
"I thought you'd say that," said Carlin, heading after him.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a tall stone wall sealing off the end of the valley. The path ended at a large, solid metal gate in the wall, lit by the firelight of two blazing supply crates filled with rubbish and dead branches. Just like the cave, Carlin thought. Someone has been here recently. The gate was guarded on either side by ancient bronze statues of Human women, while the gate itself was decorated with crude lime paintings.
Doctor Mor gawked at them, a childish expression of glee on his face. He ran up to the gate. "These are...fascinating!" he said. "Yayoi Period ritual markings: incredibly rare!"
"I've seen them before," said Carlin, trying to recall where. "There was a cave on the western edge of the valley. There were some paintings there, but they were more faded." She couldn't help feeling she'd seen them somewhere before that, though.
"This female image is particularly interesting," said Mor, pointing to the central figure: a crude representation of a woman in flowing robes with rays of light shining out from her.
"It looks...it looks like the image on the pottery you found," said Carlin.
"A rough reproduction perhaps, but very similar." Mor smiled up at it. "How fascinating!"
Carlin shifted her grip on Sam's bow and pulled out her tricorder. "The designs may be ancient, but these markings are modern. The gate's composed of solid duranium, almost four centimeters thick. And the markings themselves..." She brushed the surface of one. Moist lime peeled away under her fingertips. She brushed it off on her soiled uniform jacket. "Looks like this one was made quite recently."
"Yes, by those natives of yours, no doubt. Judging from the wrecks out there they were once like us, survivors." He said it as if it were his own hypothesis, instead of something Antori had suggested almost two days ago on Nautilus.
Carlin let it pass and settled for muttering under her breath, "Let's just hope they're not also all murderous thugs working for the Oni."
If Mor heard her remark, he affected to ignore it. Instead, he moved on to admire a pair of hand cranks mounted on either side of the gate. Carlin scanned them briefly. They were made out of the ends of spent plasma coolant canisters and were attached to a system of cables and pulleys laid into the walls of the structure, designed to raise and lower the massive weight of the duranium gate.
"Remarkable," said Mor, and laughed. He grasped the handle and pushed against it experimentally. "See if you can work the other one."
Carlin pulled at her hair. The gate worried her, a sign that the crash survivors were organized, nearby, and possibly maddened by some awful ancient Earth superstition. Yet there was no other obvious way past the wall, and without crossing the wall, there was no way she'd see Antori tonight. She pushed her ponytail back over her shoulder and nodded, moving over to the other crank. "The handle's missing," she noted. She'd have to improvise, and only one appropriately long-and-narrow object came to mind. Sam would probably kill me for this, she thought, then squeezed the end of her bow into the opening on the crank where the handle was supposed to be. "Alright, together," she said. "One, two, three!"
She pushed and almost immediately heard the end of the bow start to splinter. "Stop! It won't take the force!" She relaxed the pressure and pulled the bow out. Thankfully, it still looked intact. "I'll have to find something sturdier to turn it with."
"There must be something around here we can use," said Doctor Mor, stepping away from his crank. Almost immediately, he turned back to the drawings on the gate itself. "Incredible!" he said, rubbing his hands in glee.
I guess it's up to me, then. Carlin sighed. She scanned the pulley system once more, just to confirm that it couldn't be operated by a single crank. It couldn't. The way it was set up meant that using just one crank would unbalance the door, grinding it into the sides of its slot until it became jammed—supposing, of course, that one was strong enough to lift it with only one crank in the first place. Mor definitely wasn't and Carlin wasn't eager to try.
Carlin took the torch from Doctor Mor and searched the area around the gate. She found several thick branches which would surely be sturdy enough to bear the weight, but they were also too thick to fit into the empty slot in the crank. She did find a small piece of metal, a discarded cooling rod of some sort. It was about the right length and thickness, and it was made of duranium, but the inside was hollow, and she didn't know whether it would take the strain any better than the bow had. In the end, the howl of a wolf—not more than fifty meters away through the forest—made up her mind to try it. She picked up the cooling rod and returned to the gate.
Mor was still there, still pouring over the designs, with particular interest in the female image. "Some kind of sun worship," he muttered. "Amaterasu? Possibly…possibly…but why would the survivors turn to worshipping an ancient Human sun goddess?"
"I'm ready," Carlin announced, sliding the coolant rod into the hole in the crank. "And if you don't mind, I'd rather be on the other side of this gate by the time the wolves get here."
"What? Oh, of course!" said Mor, scrambling over to the other crank. "Um…on three, then?"
Carlin nodded, bracing herself. "One, two, three!" They worked their cranks together and the heavy gate rose. When it was about four meters off the ground, Carlin called for a stop. "The cranks don't seem to lock. We'll just have to pass under while the gate closes. It should take a minute, though, with this pulley system."
"Are you sure?" asked Mor, his voice high and strained with effort.
"As sure as I can be," said Carlin. "Go ahead and let go."
The Ferengi gasped and released his grip on his handle. Carlin did the same with hers, minus the gasp. It had actually not been as difficult as she'd expected, though she admitted her arms were a little sore. The gate, for its part, did start to descend, but it did so slowly—grinding through its stone frame as it came. Carlin and Mor had plenty of time to walk to and duck under the gate before it closed behind them.
Beyond the gate, the path turned into a stairway, winding up the side of the valley between overgrown walls that were partly natural boulders and partly stone masonry. Doctor Mor testily reclaimed his torch and took the lead. Carlin let him have both, since her only weapon was an unfamiliar bow and required both hands. Even without the torch, she had no trouble finding her footing on the ancient stone stairs, since the clouds had cleared and the blue-green light of the nebula was illuminating everything.
As they walked, Mor muttered. It took Carlin a moment to realize he wasn't talking to himself but actually trying to engage her in a conversation. She listened dutifully—for lack of anything else to do as much as any other reason.
"That female figure on the gate," Mor was saying. "Given the age of the symbols, it could be the Sun Queen…"
"Himiko?" asked Carlin. "Are you sure you're not channeling Sam, Doctor Mor?"
Doctor Mor glared at her and stomped up a flight of stairs with surprising speed, then waved curtly for her to follow. "Come on, Starfleet! Chop, chop! On your feet!"
Touchy subject, I guess, Carlin thought. She followed Mor in silence for a minute, but he soon calmed down.
"Well, there's no doubt Himiko had power," Mor said after he'd calmed down. "Some say shamanistic, elemental."
"My understanding of ancient Earth culture is that if a woman wielded that much power—or even claimed to—sooner or later it got called witchcraft," said Carlin.
Mor shrugged. "We shouldn't discount anything, Trill, even if it may seem-to us in the 25th Century-irrational. We still have much to learn about the universe."
"You sound like Sam," Carlin said, but under her breath this time, so that Doctor Mor didn't hear.
"It could be one hell of a story, Starfleet," he was saying. "The network would jump all over itself trying to sign me back on!"
"Not if we don't live to tell about it," said Carlin.
Doctor Mor ignored her, continuing up the stairs. Carlin followed him. After a few minutes, the stairs deposited them in a small clearing, surrounded by tall boulders and young trees. There was a light up ahead, just past some small saplings and they pushed their way through to get a better view. What they saw was a small wooden structure set up over a stone statue of a seated, Human woman. There were red candles set up all around the base of the statue, and many of them were lit. There was also a small bowl filled with some kind of grain—Earth rice, Carlin thought.
Doctor Mor gave a toothy smile at the sight. "Incredible! I recognize the statue in this shrine for certain. It is Imego!"
"Himiko," Carlin corrected.
"Whatever!" Mor gazed wide-eyed at the statue and rubbed his hands together greedily.
Carlin pulled out her tricorder. The polaric interference was intense, but she could still scan as far as the shrine. "I'm no archeologist," Carlin admitted, "but something about this isn't right. The bowl, the food, and the candles are all fresh, not just in some kind of temporal flux." She turned to Doctor Mor. "Why is she still being worshipped after all these centuries. Hardly anyone among the survivors should even know who Himiko was, or care."
"It's simple!" Mor declared. "This planet must once have been part of Yamatai. You were right, Carlin."
"It's a lost kingdom," said Carlin, realization dawning on her. "Not just the ruins and the lands, but in some way the people and culture, too."
"It's like finding Atlantis!" said Mor, grinning.
Carlin shook her head, resisting the urge to tug her hair. "Atlantis is a Human myth, and Atlantis can't hurt you. But this is real—very real—, Doctor Mor. We're not standing on a myth."
"No, we're standing on a latinum mine!" said Mor, grinning so widely all his pointed teeth were visible.
Just then, there was a snap from the underbrush behind the Ferengi. Carlin fumbled to put an arrow on the string while Doctor Mor turned and drew his phaser, holding it defensively in front of him.
Out of the brush stepped a large figure, a burly Nausicaan dressed in the remnants of a leather uniform. His hands were raised, but Carlin noticed a Klingon disruptor pistol on his belt. "Come, quickly," he growled. "Your friends, they are hurt."
"Yes, quite possibly by him!" said Carlin. His facial expression was impossible to read, but Carlin thought she detected a hint of wicked amusement in his voice. She strung an arrow and pointed its head at the Nausicaan, aiming for the lower left portion of his abdomen: not a lethal shot, but a ruptured princpes adrenal gland would certainly get his attention-and probably put him out of a fight. "They can't be trusted!"
Mor nodded in agreement and waved his phaser unsteadily. "Get back!" The Nausican only smiled and stepped closer.
Just then, Carlin caught sight of movement above and to the right. She glanced up and saw another humanoid—a thin Romulan man, she thought—perched in a tree above them, a makeshift bow drawn and aimed down at them. Carlin looked from one threat to the other. Doctor Mor saw it too. This was beyond her ability to deal with, but it wasn't hopeless—not yet. "You still have a phaser," Carlin reminded Mor. "You have the advantage!" If only Antori were here! He'd know how to seize the advantage, get out of this scrape…
But Doctor Mor clearly didn't. He looked from Carlin to the Nausicaan and back again, and shook his head. "I don't want any trouble," he said, raising his hands. "We'll come, but afterwards I insist you take us to whoever's in charge." He let the phaser fall.
"No!" said Carlin. "What are you doing?"
"Be quiet," said Mor.
"No!"
"I'm handling this my way, Starfleet!"
"You're going to get both of us killed!" Carlin raised her bow and drew it.
She never got a chance to fire. Something hit her from behind, bowled her over. The next thing she knew she was face down in the grass, spitting out dirt. Strong arms seized her from behind, grabbing her right arm and twisting it violently. Carlin cried out and writhed. "Get off!" she screamed, clawing for something—anything—with which to defend herself with her free left hand. But a moment later, her attacker seized that arm as well, twisting it backward to join the other and tying her wrists together with a rough cord. Then her captor took her quiver and she was hauled back up to her feet.
"Just go along with them, Carlin," Mor advised, still standing where he had been, his phaser still on the ground. "Just…just do whatever they say!"
Carlin cried out as her captor jerked her roughly forward. She didn't have much choice in the matter. They paused when they reached the Nausicaan and her captor said something in Klingon. The Nausicaan nodded and handed over his disruptor, taking Sam's bow and quiver in exchange. Then, he went to bind Mor. Carlin heard the Ferengi squeal, but her own cries drowned out his as her Klingon captor wrenched her arms painfully and forced her to walk in front of him up the mountain.
Author's Note: Another cliffhanger ending! Oh, well, this one is at least legitimately written in such in the game.
Some things from the game were cut in the interests of keeping things moving quickly and interestingly. In the game, after the initial wolf attack, you have to fight three or four other groups of wolves, both on your way to the gate and as you scavenge the surrounding area for the salvage necessary to "upgrade" Lara's pry-axe so she can open the gate. These seemed like they would be repetitive and boring in writing, though, so I cut them. Other aspects were cut because Carlin is not Lara, or even Sam. For instance, Carlin does not have a pry-axe, so she had to make do with other materials—the bow being, I'm sure, a very bad idea! There's also quite a bit of snark and attitude that Sam or Lara could have brought to the scene that I just don't believe Carlin would have felt free to express. She can certainly get as angry as Sam, but hers is much more of a simmering under-the-surface, plot-my-revenge-for-years kind of rage—whereas Sam's is a quick, sarcastic, just-shoot-them-now kind that wouldn't flinch from cursing an uncooperative crank or using sheer snarkiness as a weapon when otherwise underarmed (but then again, Sam with a bow is pretty dangerous—she might just have shot the Nausicaan and quipped about it later). Still, I stand by my decision to have Sam be absent in this scene and have Carlin be more mellow—both of these decisions are true to the characters involved.
Except where altered by Treknobable, the course of the story so far, or the characters themselves, much of the dialogue is taken straight from the game. Mor's mutterings about Amaterasu, for instance, are things Doctor Whitman will say if you stick around him for a bit after the first cutscene at the gate ends. I have no idea why he should think the image is Amaterasu rather than Himiko (Amaterasu seems to have come along later, judging from the Wikipedia page), but it's something he says in the game. His sharp admonition for Carlin to hurry up once their past the gate is another thing Doctor Whitmore can say. It's one of at least two pieces of testy dialogue he'll utter if the player lags behind during this scene instead of following him closely (if you do follow closely enough, he will not say this line or the other). I thought it an appropriate reminder of Mor's self-centered nature, especially considering that Carlin had just compared him to Sam as an archeologist—which he would consider to be an insult, Sam's family wealth and stardom aside.
I confess that I'm totally bluffing when it comes to vulnerable spots of Nausicaan anatomy. I couldn't find any information online about their internal physiology, so I made up the princpes adrenal glad. Since princpes is Latin for chief (lots of body parts have Latin names!), the idea is that this adrenal glad somehow controls the flow of adrenalin throughout the Nausicaan body-which for a species of brawling thugs like them, I figure would make it potentially important.
Speaking of languages and translations, there's the lines of the Klingon who tackles Carlin. This is actually my version of Vladimir from the game. I really wish there was some translation of his lines available, and that I could then translate that translation into Klingon! I feel like that would complete the experience of Vamdar (told you he was coming), but sadly I can find no transcript of the Russian lines, nor are the available Klingon-English translators broad-enough to handle what I gather is the content of his lines (I can't even figure out how to say, "Give me your gun" in Klingon-which I'm pretty sure is Vladimir's first line).