Star Trek: Connection Problems Ch.1

Here is the first chapter of my Trill origin story fic. Its very rough atm and I think I’ll finish the whole fic before posting more but feedback on this bit would be gratefully recieved


Excerpts from the The Diary of Tekla Rin

3rd day, 5th Moon, 303,

Plain sunny day was ominous in normality but perhaps that’s hindsight. Light breeze, fluffy clouds. The city was even clear enough to see all the way from my apartment down to the bay which shone a deep vibrant purple. I was nursing a cup of Luva when I received a message from one Julek Burig, a representative of the blandly named Applied Biosciences. I’d heard of them in name only but wasn’t that familiar with them. He was inviting me for a “casual interview” with him at AB’s headquarters. Curious and mindful of my bank balance, I accepted. Rest of the day was spent marking first year’s molecular biology papers.

4th/5th

Dressing in my best business formal dress I took the metro out into the bay. I was travelling just after peak times and the train was mostly full of people like me, going out to the island for specific purposes. Applied Biosciences HQ was a tall building on the Northside of Yzpa Island on the corner of Amethyst View and fifth. Whatever they did (And their network site was not forthcoming) it earned them a lot of money.
The receptionist was crisp and professional and quickly summoned Burig. He was a middle aged man, completely shaven bald and dressed in expensive formalwear. “Doctor Tekla Rin, a great pleasure,” he beamed
“Professor Burig,” I smiled and greeted him
“It’s just Doctor, these days, if you’re being specific,” he said as he lead me out of the lobby and into the lift, taking us up over a dozen floors.
“I thought you were still a visiting lecturer at Lakeview,”
“I’m on their books yes but I haven’t taught there in over a year, my work here at AB has kept me far too busy,”
“And what work is that?” I enquired, almost automatically. I’d found the lack of information quite frustrating.
“I’ll get to that, can I get you a drink,” he said as an assistant appeared
“Just a Luva would be nice please?”
“How do you take it,”
“Oh, bitter, please,”
“Two Luvas please? One bitter one regular?” he said to the assistant and they headed off.
He led me into a nondescript meeting room, its floor to ceiling window was artfully decorated with a DNA helix in frosted glass. The view looked out into the bay across to the Shoreside center. I admired it briefly before taking a seat. It was obvious they were trying to impress me and compared to my home or my office at the university, it worked. A tablet was waiting for him on the tablet. He pulled it close to him and tapped the screen. “Doctor Tekla Rin, assistant lecturer at the school of biology, Shoreside Central University. Graduated top of your class before going on to do your doctorate. Wrote your doctorate thesis on The neural electrical communication methods of the Mak’alan Cave Worm with regards to interaction with Trill.” he looked up at me, “Quite familiar with Mak’ala, Dr Rin?”
“I could tell you the best bars and the best place to get good Luva, that’s where I got in the habit of drinking it bitter. It’s how Maks drink it, with Azna in,” I replied. He smiled and nodded.
“Your paper was a fascinating read, it’s something I’ve pondered as well. The nature of the Cave Worm to attach to larger creatures combined with their ability to communicate with Trill as proven through things like the Jha’zea ritual, you suggest it is possible that the two could be combined,”
“As a thought experiment yes, its generally accepted that the Cave Worms use similar electrocommunication methods as they do with Trill to communicate with larger creatures they connect to which for ease of terminology I call “hosts”, passing on memories of previous hosts to help them identify food sources, predators and so on.”
“Yes whereas with Trill they pass on memories of previous visitors to the caves, especially those who submerge themselves in the pools, potentially going back centuries,”
“Yes, but that’s hardly my work, this has been discussed before, Hysa Zilid wrote a book on it about two years ago, I recommend it,”
“You however go into details about how both the Worms and Trill use Isoboramine to generate neural signals, albeit in a much more,” he paused “dramatic way in the case of the Cave Worms, its fascinating,”
“It was just a thought experiment and I’m quite clear about that throughout, the ethical and culture questions of the use of a Mak’alan Cave Worm, not to mention sourcing one,” I paused, “Is this going where I think it’s going?” I said, an edge of nerves in my voice.
Julek slid the tablet across the table to me. It displayed a detailed document. I read through and found it was a non-disclosure agreement. “This will apply to the rest of the conversation. If you don’t sign it then we end the conversation here and we just discussed your doctorate work.” I thought over this and finally signed it. I didn’t have anything to lose by listening to what he had to say. I slid the tablet back to him. “Applied Biosciences, in conjunction with several other parties are looking to carry out a study into the effects of a long term interaction between Mak’alan Cave Worms and Trill and to study and potential symbiotic relationship” He let this hang in the air briefly “Possibly through surgical implantation of the worm,”
“Thats,” I began. I paused before continuing “To see what memories the Mak’alan cave worm might pass on,”
“Whether the human might be able to pick up memories from the Worm, whether the worm then acted on a third party outside the Worm and Host, to use your term,”
“So you’ve actually sourced a Cave Worm? As in you got it out of Mak’ala?”
“We wouldn’t be talking if we hadn’t gotten over that initial major hurdle,”
“This is,” he slid the tablet back to me and I read through the document presented to me. It was a detailed outline for a “Project Unity” I noted the generic name. “I’ll send a copy to your network address,”
“I’ll have to think on it, of course,”
“Of course, Doctor Rin, read over our proposal over the next few days,” He paused, “do be aware however if you share any of this information to anyone else you will not only end up bankrupt but blacklisted from any academic teaching position in the eastern hemisphere, understood?” he raised an eyebrow. I scratched my spots, a nervous movement.
“The worst I could possibly do is turn you down, don’t worry,” I said, trying to stay calm.
I left quickly after that. I will confess it was genuinely tempting. Ever since I’d written my doctorate paper I’d expended a considerable amount of further time to the concept, thinking it out of reach. The Mak’alan Cave Worms are highly protected on biological and spiritual grounds. I got the metro back across the bay but got off at the shore.
There is a small eatery just off the shoreline that has the trappings of a generic, grimy quick food place but serves some of the best Ryzpin in the entire city. As I entered the moustachioed owner of the eatery greeted me as I entered. “Tekla, you look smart,” he smiled
“I had a meeting at the university, Bolek,” I lied
“The usual,”
“Please, and a side of battered Azna,” I took a seat at a table, slightly away from the kitchen. I pulled out my tablet and immediately began reading the documents that doctor Burig had sent me. After a while one of Bolek’s children brought me my food. I kept reading. After a while she returned. “Your Ryzpin is getting cold,” she commented, I turned to face her. Eight or nine “Sorry, bit distracted,” I waved my tablet
“Must be a great story, I usually eat my Ryzpin straight away,”
“Dont bother the lady,” Bolek called out to his daughter,
“It’s okay,” as if to humour her, I picked up one of my battered Azna leaves and ripped them in the little pot of sauce supplied. They had gone cold and the leaves were a little soft. The girl smiled and walked away. I slowly, slowly ate my food. After a while Bolek walked over. “Sorry Tekla, we’re closing for the afternoon”
“Oh! What time is it”
“Ten seventy five,”
“Oh!” I repeated. “Sorry Bolek, lost in my work,” I quickly pocketed my tablet. Paid and left.
Which leaves me here, typing this up. Heaven knows who will read this though. I wish I had another reader to give me another opinion though.

Star Trek Fic: Joining.

I’m extrapolating/making up a few bits and bobs for Trill. I know it’s been expanded on but I’m working from canon for sake of ease. 

A screen turns on revealing a small room in the standard style of a Starfleet ship. There are no personal effects or decorations, suggesting this isn’t someone’s personal quarters. Outside the window lights strobe past, suggesting the ship is travelling faster than light . Directly in front of the camera sits a man in his mid twenties. He has jet black hair, green eyes and a broad face covered in a closely cut beard. He goes to speak, stops and runs his fingers through his hair. Finally he speaks again. 

“Stardate 52988.0, soon to be the fifth day, first month, 411 of the unified calendar when we arrive on Trill. On Earth it’s the year twenty three seventy five, their calendar starting with the birth of  a  religious figure in the Christian faith, in fact upon leaving Earth I just missed the celebrations of his birth, I digress,”

He sighs, and pauses.

“Personal log, Kinaran Veled, possibly my last log under that name. When this ship, the USS Scott Kelly arrives in orbit around Trill I’m going straight into surgery in the capital. After which I will be Kinaran Tal, fifteen host of the Tal symbiote. Xara Tal, the Starfleet admiral has died, having sustained mortal injuries in the battle of Cardassia and the commission has picked me to be the next host of Tal. I, words fail,”

He pauses again. He leans back in his chair. He stands and walks over to the replicator, still speaking. 

“As well as it being a good habit I especially wanted to record my last thoughts and feelings prior to being joined. My last thoughts and feelings unaffected by the experiences and memories of the fourteen previous Tal hosts.” 

He pauses and looks to the replicator “Large latte, extra cinnamon, extra nutmeg,” he orders. The drink materialises and he returns to his seat and continues as he warms his hands on his mug.

“The joining, I don’t know how it will affect me. I don’t know whether I’ll still be me but with new memories or some new amalgamated person. Oh I’ve read other accounts of being joined. Telben Krel’s famous self help guide, various holoprograms and books but they all vary. Some people change, some people don’t. I guess this recording could be put in the commons for potential candidates to listen to. So I’ll try and make this accessible.

When I was six, my uncle Tazec was joined to the Mahl symbiote, the fourth host, he’d talked through the process in depth with his husband and his siblings. The whole process fascinated me. I was fascinated by history as a child and suddenly this man I knew had a perfect recall of over a century of memories that I would pester him about constantly and he humoured me. He’d tell me what it was like to meet President Sulu or to see Pelor perform at the Riverside Arena sixty years ago. I was obsessed. I looked up every account of joined Trill I could find. I’d watch the holovid series on the legendary Ambassador Curzon Dax repeatedly  and I pestered my mother to travel with me to the Bolarus Literature conference to see Keldon Dobar talk about joined Trill. He signed a padd loaded with his complete works which I got laser etched into its casing. I even got to meet Xara Tal, then a Captain in Starfleet when she gave a talk to our academy about Starfleet, I of course bothered her about being joined and the Symbiosis Commission. I was in awe of her, this person with over four centuries of memories, back to the earliest trials in surgical joining of symbiotes.” 

He pauses then bursts out laughing.

“Oh my word, I just realised I’m going to find out what she thought of little thirteen year old me, I might die of embarrassment right there on the surgical table,”

He clears his throat and sips his drink.

“So I start studying what makes a good candidate, what the Symbiosis commission looks for. Careers that are perhaps attractive to the Commission, anything that might give me the edge. I signed up to extracurricular classes. I took up three different instruments, the Katarwave, the Andorian Icepipes and the Human guitar, only one of which I still play, for the record. I joined the Youth Congress, ended up visiting our equivalent on Earth, my first visit there. I studied first aid and medical qualifications, learned several languages and not once did I stop to think. “Why am I doing this? Do I enjoy this?” Because even when I did enjoy it I was putting so much pressure on myself to excel and to be picked as a candidate that I stopped enjoying it”

Another pause. He then shrugs

“I got onto the program, which is great. All I wanted. Except I now had to succeed. At 18 I was assigned a mentor. Pelea Narin. Narin was the fifth host of the Narin symbiote and an accomplished Xenobiologist who at the time was teaching at the Central University on Bolarus, something I didn’t have much interest in. I was, still am, far more interested in societies, in civilisations. Still I studied it alongside her and I guess she was impressed I was willing to study new areas. She assessed my range of skills which were many. By now I was a qualified emergency medic,I was studying towards fluency in English, Dakaran-Bajoran, Standard Sign Language and a whole bunch of other skills I’ve very rarely used. She was impressed. Said as such to my face but it was obvious she was a little off put by my single focus. She brought up the same concerns I think I’d admit I had, if I was honest with myself. “Why are you studying this? What do you want from life?” 

To which I always said “To become a trill host,”

“And what would that entail, what would you give the symbiote as a host,” at which point I’d spout off all my skills and qualifications. This usually ended in a somewhat resigned “I cannot fault you for enthusiasm,” from Narin. 

“In between my placements with Narin I was studying for a degree in comparative sociology. I really liked it but all the while I was thinking “How would this affect my chances of being joined” not did I actually enjoy it. The extracurricular activities continued, I considered going to Starfleet academy if i thought that’d help, all of all the while being overshadowed by my potential joining. By my third year of study I was entering the age range when Trill are joined and I started to wonder if that’d help my study and when I might get joined before my final exams. My constant worries about joining and extracurricular tasks started to negatively affect my grades, but not long after my twentieth birthday I was informed by the symbiosis commission I’d been accepted as a host candidate. I was overjoyed, I was overwhelmed. This goal I’d been working for all this life ”

He pauses, then sips his drink.

“Then the war happened, and that all went on hold. I was stuck on Earth then travel was limited. I was on a six month placement at University College, London on Earth, rather than take the risk of travelling to Trill, UCL offered to let me finish my studies there and of course, all joining was put on hold as travel was limited. Every now and then a joined Trill in Starfleet or somewhere else near the front lines would be killed and I’d wonder if I’d recieve my call to travel to Trill but it never came. My life was on hold and until then there was little else I could do. My undergraduate degree progressed into a Masters in Sociology with a specialisation in parallel development of industrial era ideologies, I found it interesting, anyway. 

“With no movement on the joining side of things I felt a little bit free to just pursuit what I wanted. I’d already been accepted as a host, I could now do what I wanted. So I did. I spent most of 2374 on the maglev between my home in London and my job at the Trill Embassy in Paris where I helped people stranded by the war. I worked as a tutor, teaching other language scholars how to speak various forms of Trill. I was having fun, as fun as one can in the middle of an interstellar war,”

“Then the war ended, about three months ago now.  I was elated, we all were but on a selfish level I was worried. Would I now have to drop the life I’d made on Earth and go be joined. Would I be the same person afterward, what if my friends didn’t like me? What if I didn’t like them!? I could drop out of the process but it’d been my singular purpose. I received a call from the symbiosis commission two weeks ago. Admiral Xara Tal had been in a vegitative state since her ship, the Windchaser was destroyed in the final battle of Cardassia Prime. Her condition was worsening and based on conversations with her husband and with her own prior wishes on the matter it was decided to move the symbiote to a new host and I’d been chosen. I was to travel to Trill immediately”

“So here I am, On my way to the end goal of over half my life. I’ve said my goodbyes to my friends in London and Paris, knowing I might not be the same person when I return, if I choose to return,”

There’s a long pause, 

“I’m scared, I’m scared how I’ll change, I’m scared if I’ll lose who I am.”

Another pause

“I’m scared I wont be good enough, the Tal symbiote is nearly five centuries old, what if I’m a disappointment. My predecessors are war heroes, astronauts and scientists, I’m a clerk at an embassy. So I can play the guitar, what use is that compared to what’s come before me. I’m starting to question why I wanted this all along, I was more interested in everything around being joined, I never questioned what I could do for my symbiote. Now I have a life that’s worth contributing. I wonder if I’m giving it all up. No turning back now though. I guess.” 

The log entry ends.