Topic: What Remains

[Commander La'ra]

Here we finally go, the next La'ra tale.  It's not a usual one:  I'll warn you up front there's not even the threat of combat in it (Sorry Grim!) .   I also deliberated over posting it at all; while telling you which episode I find it very similar too would be quite a spoiler, there's one TNG adventure that, in my mind, is just a little too close to some of the events in the story.  I wrote this before I saw that ep, but still...

Nevertheless, I do think I did an okay job on it, and it IS already finished.  My transcription speed is rather slow, so I dunno when the next update will be...but here's the first bit.  Hope you enjoy it.

---------------


What Remains



"Do you know what happened?"

"No."

Commander La'ra sighed.  Bits of rough marble decorated the grassy hill.  There was a pattern to their distribution;  something had stood here, long ago.

"I'm not an archeologist."  Leral reminded.  She stood next to him, tricorder propped on a leather-clad hip.

"Whatever this place was...it was important."  The Commander stated.  Ocean waves battered the nearby shore, and from the top of the rise, one could see a truly impressive swath of grassland, distant mountains.  No one would've wasted such a view.

"I'm not an archeologist."  Leral said again, her mouth quirking.

"I don't need a full history of the planet, Lieutenant.  Just tell me what you can."

He took a moment to stare at the ocean.

"I'm curious."  He admitted.

Leral committed herself to an entire smile.

"There's probably some sign of what happened."  She conceded.  She pulled her tricorder up.  It whirred and whistled and the science officer stared.  "Give me a few minutes, sir."

La'ra nodded.  He turned and strolled away.  The crest of the hill offered an even better view.  Sunlight glinted off the sea.

There were shouts from inland.  A Petty Officer was chastising a crewman for some small offense.  Three score of La'ra's men were combing the shoreline and surrounding plains, gathering samples of rocks, plants, and fauna as nervous science officers chided their clumsiness.  It'd been Woram who'd discovered the scattering of ruins;  the young NCO had guessed La'ra might find them interesting.

Woram had been correct.  The Commander doubted that Leral's scans would reveal anything; whatever had happened here had happened many centuries ago.  Still, it might be the better part of yet another century before the Fleet or the Science Council sent an investigation team, so this small opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

He looked back toward his science officer.  Leral paced about the hillside, eyes focused on her tricorder.  She was in sleeveless leather - the planet was warm - and La'ra found himself examining her naked shoulders.  He was still examining when she looked up at him.  He cursed silently.

"I think I've found something, sir!"  She shouted, due to distance rather than excitement.  Her search probably hadn't borne much fruit.  La'ra moved back down the hill.

"Some of this debris..."  She indicated the scattered marble.  "...has writing...symbols of some kind.  Not really noticeable with a visual inspection...there's too much erosion and all of this moss..."

"Enough to translate?"  La'ra asked.

Leral shook her head.  "No, at least not with our facilities.  We'd need a much larger sample.

La'ra nodded.  It was something.  Not enough to truly sate his curiousity, but something.  He frowned, tapped his foot.  He groused for a moment before realizing that his science chief's was fending off a chuckle.  She had caught him staring, but her amusement at such rarely spread beyond her eyes.

"What?"  He demanded.

"We'll need a bigger sample."  She explained.  "Maybe we'll find one in the tunnels under the hill."

She offered her tricorder; he took it.  There was a system of caverns, tunnels beneath his feet, far too uniform to be the work of nature.  Leral had located them with seismic pulses.

La'ra looked up at his science officer.  He grinned.

[Scottish Andy]

Interesting beginning. Certainly doesn't follow my treasured Klingon stereotype of "1st Battalion, Combat Archaeologists". 

I'll be interested in reading about what our introspective Klingon finds out under the hills. Not having memorised (or possibly even seen) every last TNG episode, I am drawing no comparisons as yet.

[Commander La'ra]

Interesting beginning. Certainly doesn't follow my treasured Klingon stereotype of "1st Battalion, Combat Archaeologists". 

Well...read the next bit, and maybe I'll steer things back that way.

I'll be interested in reading about what our introspective Klingon finds out under the hills. Not having memorised (or possibly even seen) every last TNG episode, I am drawing no comparisons as yet.

The comparison isn't so much in the setting, just the key event that's the crux of the storyline.  You'll doubtless see it when I post it...

Speaking of posting...here's part two.


--------------------


A geyser of dirt and marble exploded into the air, the accompanying thunderous crash echoing for several seconds.  Chunks of debris fell like rain.

"That was satisfying."  La'ra declared.  Leral laughed, a small sound amongst the cheers of a dozen suddenly-happy Klingons.

The Marine responsible for the destruction darted forward to examine his handiwork.  He waved his hands, indicating a clear breach.

"Secure the tunnels."  The Commander barked.  Seven Marines, weapons and armor clattering, dashed into the hillside's smoking wound.

"Dramatic."  Leral chuckled.

"Good practice."  La'ra corrected.

"Of course, sir."  She quietly agreed.  La'ra glared at her playfully, noting her bright eyes.  Archeologist or no, the find had fired her spirit.

One of the Marines emerged from the tunnel.  He made his way over to the Commander, saluted.

"The caverns are secure, Commander. No threats encountered."

"Bio sweep?"

"No contaminants."  The Marine was an Ensign.  K'tal.  "I've set up a guard detail around the central chamber, sir.  It seems to be the most...interesting."

"Good work."  La'ra assured.

"Thank you, my lo...sir."  K'tal went rigid.  He's nearly broken an unspoken rule. La'ra ignored it.

"Take the rest of your men and return to the survey."

"Sir."  The Marine departed after a final salute.

"Stiff."  La'ra muttered.

"Young."  Leral replied.  La'ra glanced at her.  There was something dark in his science officer's eyes.  K'tal had accompanied her on one somewhat harrowing mission.  The Commander had heard some interesting rumors, but Leral had reported no misbehavior on the young Marine's part.

"He'll acclimate.  Eventually."  La'ra decided.

"Probably.  Care to have a look, sir?"  The science officer asked.

The two Klingons marched toward the tunnel entrance.

[Governor Ronjar]

I've read most of this before. But it is no less good.

I've often batted around the idea of a Klingon science mission. But then, I am only now writing my first truely science based Fed story.

I'm interested to see what's inside the underground structure, of course, and equally interested to see which Ep you mimic.Thusly I cannot place details.

I like La'ra's oggling of Leral as always. They need to %$&*! quite badly. I'd also like to see how Grimbek acts when on a archeology-mish. Any way...that's about as constructive as I can get right now...

Write more...

--thu guv!

[Grim Reaper]

You can say what you want La'ra but I still got an explosion! BTW I'm having trouble dispelling an image of La'ra with a hat, a snake leather whip running around dodging bullits and rescueing the damsell in distress on the tones of the symphonic marches... and getting slugged under the chin by her.

[Commander La'ra]

You can say what you want La'ra but I still got an explosion!

Hell, that was largely for you anyway, Grim.  Incidentally, I finished up Fragile Ideals, at long last, if you wanna give it a look too.

BTW I'm having trouble dispelling an image of La'ra with a hat, a snake leather whip running around dodging bullits and rescueing the damsell in distress on the tones of the symphonic marches... and getting slugged under the chin by her.

Save for the hat, that doesn't seem too un-La'ra-ish.

 

[Governor Ronjar]

Cuming in a theatre near you!

Commander La'ra and the Temple of Doom!

Watch La'ra whip the demon worshiping Ferengi in the bowels of Qo'noS and save a harem full of adoring Orion slave women!

Listen to La'ra as he berates L'dar for keeping his pet snake in the engine room! "Snakes! I hate snakes!"

Watch Leral punch La'ra in the chin...

ETC...

--thu guv!

[Scottish Andy]

Yup, there we go. 1st Battalion, Combat Archaeologists! Yay!

And something I missed from the first post: what the hell is a seismic pulse for scanning?

It's always nice to see recurring characters, but apart from that there's not enought to comment on. Post more!

[Commander La'ra]

And something I missed from the first post: what the hell is a seismic pulse for scanning?

Sort of like sonar or radar, only instead of sound or radio waves, you use kinetic energy, like the ground waves radiated by an earthquake.  They do this today, only they use these thingees that look very much like the 'thumpers' from Dune.

It's always nice to see recurring characters, but apart from that there's not enought to comment on. Post more!

In the notebook version, the Ensign wasn't K'Tal....this is actually an older story.

Should be able to get more up tomorrow or Saturday.

[Governor Ronjar]

Sort of like sonar or radar, only instead of sound or radio waves, you use kinetic energy, like the ground waves radiated by an earthquake.  They do this today, only they use these thingees that look very much like the 'thumpers' from Dune.

They also use dynamite...

--thu guv!

[Commander La'ra]

Explosives work too.

[Czar Mohab]

I'm a big enough TNG fan that I should recognize the episode, but either a.) there isn't enough yet or b.) I just plum forgot. I'm goin with (b).

I like how this was written, each segment (line) is short, quick and to the point, yet fills enough detail to get the scene. A very unique approach to descriptors. Very interested in where this is going.

Czar "how can it be a Klingon story if no one dies?" Mohab, who kinda hopes someone, anyone, dies; but notes it'll be good either way

[Governor Ronjar]

Czar "how can it be a Klingon story if no one dies?" Mohab, who kinda hopes someone, anyone, dies; but notes it'll be good either way

*La'ra halts at a small, open recess. He peers in to find a dirty Taliban warlord with an RPG... La'ra throws in a grenade, then seals the chamber. Osama dies...*

There's some killin'...

Course...a nice accident might give us a death toll, too...

--thu guv!

[Commander La'ra]

I did mention this was already finished, right?

[Commander La'ra]

Ironically, I DID get the next part typed up on Friday...just didn't actually post it till today.

---------------


The tunnel walls were the same sort of marble as had littered the ground above.  The pale stone magnified the light from hand lamps.

“Little to no erosion.”  Leral observed.  “The entrance must’ve been sealed tightly.  We should probably reseal it before we leave.”

“Why?”  La’ra asked.  Pictograms were etched into the surface of the corridor.  There weren’t many, but they were regular, set into narrow lines halfway between floor and ceiling. 

“Archeology is not the Science Council’s biggest priority, sir.”  Leral declared.  “It could be years before anyone else is out here.”

“I see.”  La’ra knew little of Science Council politics.  Leral had been nervous about presenting findings to them, but he’d thought  it due to her gender, or perhaps her military status.  Perhaps her trepidation had had another cause.  He gestured to the pictograms.  “Are these enough for a translation?”

“No sir.”  She answered after a glance at her tricorder.

He nodded.  They moved farther down the corridor.  Ahead, according to Leral’s earlier scans, lay the large central chamber.

“A library?”  La’ra guessed.  The room was large, though not cavernous.  Neat rows of vertical slabs took up most of the floorspace.

“Probably…”  Leral muttered.  She swept her hand light across the little monoliths.  Each was about six feet high, glossy, and black.  Rows and rows of pictograms adorned each of them.

“I might have a big enough sample now.”  Leral quipped.

La’ra chortled.  He approached a slab.  The material was smooth and glassy, like magma that’d cooled quickly.  The etchings -- row after row of them -- were an ivory hue.  He wondered how the builders had done that.

“Each letter was carved into the rock…”  The voice was not Leral’s, not Klingon.  La’ra spun, whipping out his sidearm.  “…molten material was then poured into the recess.”

The speaker was bipedal, with wide black eyes. It’s skin was pinkish, far more so than a human or relative, and it’s body bore no hair.  La’ra stared, disruptor held steady.

“You were wondering how the etchings were made.”  The creature continued.  It wore a blue jumpsuit, utilitarian in design.

“I was.”  La’ra admitted.  He was no longer in the catacombs, but atop the hill.  There were large differences from his last visit, though.  A grand structure dominated the mount.  He was inside, but the construction was open, and airy.  Widely spaced columns did little to impede the view.

There was more.  A great city sprawled on what had been empty grassland.  He wanted to look, but he had more immediate concerns.

“Where are my crewmen?”  He demanded.

“In the archive.”  The pink-man replied.  “As are you.”

La’ra frowned.

“This is an illusion.”

“I don’t think of it that way.”  said the pink-man.  “This is where I live.”

La’ra slowly lowered his disruptor.

“Are you…”  Alive?  A computer program?  A godlike alien with stupendous power?  “….what exactly are you?”

“My name is Igyosha.”  The alien chuckled.  “I worked in these libraries, once.  I remain when I should be gone.”

“A ghost.”  La’ra stated.

“I don’t think so.”  Igyosha clarified.  “At least not in the metaphysical sense.  I could be mistaken.  I believe I’m more of a…memory.”

La’ra holstered his weapon.

“I am Commander La’ra, of the Klingon Empire.”

“I assumed you were a military man, from your armor and blade.  I wasn’t sure I should welcome you, considering how you tore your way in.”

“Changed your mind?”

“No.”  Igyosha chuckled.  “I simply reminded myself that your party are the only visitors I’ve had.”

“Do not examine the coat of a freely-given targh.”  La’ra grinned, slightly.

The alien blinked.

“Nor test the weight of the tithe.  I suppose some sentiments are universal.  Could you tell me of your people, Commander?”

La’ra considered.

“If you tell me of yours.”

[Governor Ronjar]

Still doesn't remind me of any Trek episode, but more interestingly reminds me of a Conan story or two... The originals, not the crap that came later...

That inflection is reason enough to maintain my attention.

--thu guv!

[Scottish Andy]

Bingo! That last segment slotted nicely into the few TNG eps I remember, 'The Inner Light'. Right? Oh, your story segment also brought into mind 'TOS:All Our Yesterdays'. We've just met Mr. Atoz.

These bites are way to small for my usual commenting-for-Guv-style. So, I'll go to Larry-style commenting:

I like it. Gimmie more.

[Commander La'ra]

+1 Karma for Andy.  Yup, that's indeed the episode (had to look it up...), and the similarity increases in the next scene.  Transcribing of the next scene should again, be done by Friday.  Whether I post it that day or not depends on how early I drive up to vist my mother, my dog, and the Guv (not necessarily in that order) this weekend.

[Governor Ronjar]

You'll probably see yer dog abouyt the same time as me...he's been here an aweful lot. The wife's dog's in heat 

--thu guv!

[Commander La'ra]

Finally got to sit down and finish typing out the rest.  The similarity to the episode Andy mentions increases dramatically in this part, but I hope that doesn't spoil anyone's enjoyment.  I was originally going to post this one bit at a time, but realized that unlike a lot of my other stories, it's actually pretty 'tight'.  So I waited till I had it all done.

In any case, here's the rest of 'er.  Criticism and praise equally welcome.

-------------


“Warriors.”  Igyosha sighed.  “I always believed ours would be the death of us.  I can’t imagine an entire race of them.”

Klingon and alien were both seated.  La’ra relaxed against a column, legs stretched out on the floor.  Igyosha sat primly on the temple steps.

“It is…philosophy, more than a physical reality.”  La’ra amended.  “We have our lawyers, our farmers, our scientists…all such things.  But life is a war. Challenges are battles.  Whether the challenge is a cunning adversary or a complex algorithm…that’s irrelevant.”

“A passionate outlook.”  The alien stared out at the city, the ocean.  The sight was still impressive, but Igyosha’s eyes wistful rather than awestruck.  “I imagine your society places more worth on some than on others.”

“Indeed.”  La’ra agreed.  “Though unlike some others, we’ve never claimed to be a utopia.”

“Others?”

La’ra chuckled.  “One of our rivals.”

“I suppose there’ll always be perceptions and politics to cloud truth.”  Igyosha remarked lightly.  “My society certainly had it’s share.  We had a different outlook than your own people.  We were artists, philosophers, poets.  We spent our lives debating the lives of trees and decorating our world with grand displays of our imagination.”

The alien lowered his eyes.  “Hubris.”

“One must have confidence.”  La’ra said quietly.  “If no one stepped forward to say ‘I can do it better’ there would be no progress.”

“But what is progress?  Who’s to say one state of the universe is better than the previous.”

“It’s not so much the details of the changes, I think.”  The Commander offered.  “But the forward motion.  Change.  Nature requires some chaos and uncertainty. ‘The Empire that does not grow, dies’.”
Igyosha cocked his head.

“One of our proverbs.”  La’ra clarified.

“I suppose there’s truth in that.”  Igyosha said.  “Change requires adaptation.  Adaptation is a way of…strengthening oneself.  If there was no change, stagnation and boredom would be the usual outcome.”

“Boredom kills.”  La’ra said wryly.

“It does.”  Igyosha laughed.  “Fortunately my people were never bored.  Our death was swift, at least.”

“What happened?”

“I’m not certain of all details.”  The alien took another long look at the ghost-city.  “A plague.  Carried by creatures we’d never seen.  They fell from the sky and nested.  My people soon fell sick.  We were not primitives, but the disease was…beyond our ability to combat.  As I said, our end was swift.”

La’ra frowned.

“Not the death a warrior would prefer?”  Igyosha asked.

“No.  Though I’m happy you did not linger without hope.”

“Some of us did linger, Commander.  Many of us, at first.  Not in the way you mean.  I am the last.”

Igyosha studied the ground.  La’ra waited, listened.

“Despite my reservations, I was pleased when you entered the temple.”  The alien continued.  “Time does not move for me as it did before our fall, but I can still feel it.  The others gave up waiting long ago. I am…ready to join them.”

“In death?”

“In whatever lies beyond.”

“Because I am proud of my race, my people.  I am proud of what we were.  I wish for something of us to live on.”

“Live on?”

“Through our knowledge.  Our history.  To simply know that our kind will be spoke of, that others might learn from us…it’s something I desire.”

“Little remains beyond the central chamber.”  La’ra advised.  “Though it does seem to contain an impressive record.”

“Yes.  The slabs contain our entire history, in short form.  You mean to read them?”

“Yes.”

The alien sighed.
“I am happy with that.  But I would ask something more.”

“Ask.”

“Historians are often…dry.  I remember color and life in my people.  If I were to tell you of small things, would you pass them on as well?”

La’ra did not have to consider.  Klingons did not fear death.  Being forgotten was a worse fate.

“Yes.”

“I thank you, Commander.”  Igyosha smiled.

La’ra blinked.  There was a tingling in his mind, a sudden shift.  It was gone now, yet…

…he remembered new things.  New sights, sounds, and faces.  They drifted away if he did not concentrate, and they remained distinct from his own experiences, like some kind of well-remembered fiction.

“You have a beautiful wife.”  He said to Igyosha.  He personally did not find gills attractive, but he saw the woman through another’s gaze.

“I hope to see her soon.”

“Is there more?”  La’ra asked.

“Yes.  But I would not burden you with the entirety of another man’s lifetime.  I’ve given you…fragments.  Others have agreed to share the load…and some things I have kept only for myself.”

“Of course.”

“I do not mean to seem ungrateful, Commander.”  Igyosha said.  “But it has been…a long time…”

“Go to your family.”  La’ra suggested.

Igyosha stood, placed his hands over his chest, and bowed.



*   *   *



La’ra blinked.  His fingers were brushing the cool stone of an archive slab.

Leral stood next to him.  There was a look of dislocation in her eyes.  Then she blinked, stared at her surroundings as if they were new.  The Commander scanned the room.  Several of his party seemed to be emerging from a daze.

“Igyosha?”  Leral asked.  Marines glanced at her, as if the name were familiar.

“Igyosha.”  La’ra confirmed.

“How long do you think he waited?”  She asked, respect in her voice.

La’ra considered.  He smiled.

“Long enough.”




*   *   *



“They will tell?”

Time moved strangely in the lands beyond.  Igyosha looked forward.

The language would be translated.  A painting of the Great Temple, as it had looked in his life, would hang in the stronghold of a mighty Klingon house.  His old recipe for spiced melih would be the favorite of another man’s lover.

These were small things.  Small, but priceless.

“They will.”

He didn’t tell his wife of other things he saw.  He didn’t say that stories that would be told about the tireless caretaker, his unending resolve.  Those embarrassed him.

“Then come sleep, my love.”

Igyosha embraced his wife, and obeyed.



The End