TBG Omake: The Academy By The Bay 5
Dec. 1st, 2017 07:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tanithryudoAN: This is an omake fanfic of a Quest (fanfic) called To Boldly Go, based primarily on Star Trek.
Inspired by the recent name vote (where we named our shiny new Enterprise-C!), and the fact that there are indeed canonical Starfleet ships bearing the name USS Equicon and USS Da-Teplan. I thought they sounded rather Gaeni and Qloathi (both OC species), respectively. Also, the canon Equicon is itself named after a series of fan conventions, so it’s a double reference!
~~ The Academy by the Bay 5 ~~
~~ (Cross Cultural Studies) ~~
Excerpt from The Ride of Arqueniou Nin
Adaptation by Shrev ch’Lantri and Taylor Lee
Starfleet Associated Press
Act X, Scene IV, Verses 1-5
STAGEHANDS, at scene change:
Lo come the morning, fires[1] once more are dimmed
The veiled night give away
Resumed the council
Brave men that have survived
Burnt ash, gored ichor, poisoned touch within
SENATORS, while clashing[2]:
Sharp knives now hidden by deadlier words
Echo in council chambers
The chaos within
Mirror the suffering masses
Unheard in the pride of conflicted lords
HERALD, leading procession:
Clarion overture, voices surge resound
Comes speaker Haquita Nin
O Arqueniou!
Stand forth first among equals
Peerless authority, Senate lock unbound
MASKED MAN, emerging from shadow to circuit the room:
Midst praise and relief, spread fear in his wake
False smiles and secret hatred
Thwarted ambitions
Sent hidden orders away
Call for hidden strike, best a martyr make
SENATORS and HERALD, together while genuflecting:
Yet no tampered screen, whispered promise grand
And no danger to his life
Stops Arqueniou
From taking root in council
What last heard from myth: sacred Da-Teplan[3]
Footnotes:
1. Fire here refers not to a literal fire but to the colloquial name of a ceremonial display of lighting patterns on the exterior of the Qloathi Senate building, which has been historically used to provide a level of transparency to the public on matters discussed in closed sessions.
2. The Qloathi duelist tradition was once allowed in the Senate chambers. Historians believe that the official practice was banned from politics in part due to the events in this saga. It would take more than a century for the unofficial duels to fall out of favor. However, the hidden practices of assassination used as a political tool still persist to this day.
3. A literal translation would be “Second Grand Conclave”, so named after the mythical First Grand Conclave, or “Ur-Teplan”, believed to have created the senatorial system of the first republic government formed on Qloathi in the ancient past. However, as the term has become a distinct proper noun in modern colloquial Qloathi speech, it is left untranslated here.
~~~~~
“Draught of honeyed wine, fiery poison spread / Clashing icy cure in veins / Burning agony--Are you listening to me, doc?”
Akesh Momon dropped his voice from the affected pomposity of recitation to normal speech. He stood with arms akimbo and an accusing frown on his face. Unfortunately, the only other person in the small lab didn’t even bother to look up from the mass of glowing tubes and bubbling beakers on the table.
“Not at all, cadet,” Dr. Iniu Sad-harr said absently. “I’m afraid politics, even the literal, bloody kind, just isn’t one of my interests.”
As he spoke, he carefully picked up an oyster from a tray next to him with sterilized tongs, and dipped it into a beaker of incandescent teal liquid. The resulting reaction caused a plume of thick white smoke to rise up, which the Gaeni mad scientist ignored with the help of a pair of protective goggles he was wearing.
Momon kept his eyes averted from the poor mollusk as it was retrieved and placed into a bioscanner. He was pretty sure Terran shellfish weren’t suppose to come in that shade of green.
“It’s not politics,” the Qloathi youth tried to explain. “It’s art! And classical literature!”
“If you say so,” Sad-harr muttered, skepticism obvious in his tone.
“Really! It’s like...like…” Momon grasped hard for some kind of equivalence in Gaeni culture, before one finally came to him. “Da-Teplan is like your EquiCon!”
That comparison finally caught the Ganei doctor’s attention, enough to finally look up from his experiment and stare bemusedly at the cadet. Though, the effect was somewhat spoiled by the opacity of his goggles.
“What, the EquiCon Cooperative, as in the ‘Grandfather of the Technocracy’? How does that make any sense?” Sad-harr waved his tongs to emphasize his words, ignoring the still dripping mollusk in its grip.
“Well, it’s known as the ‘First Institute’...right?” Momon said, though his voice tapered off into a question. “...The first institution that signed the Global Illumination Initiative, which evolved into the ITG?”
The Gaeni doctor raised an eyebrow, the motion barely visible behind his goggles. “Yes...” he drawled cautiously, not sure if he really wanted to hear the rest of this argument.
“And whose charter was adapted and re-adoped by many modern institutes even a century later,” the apparent amateur historian continued more confidently, “long after the original institution blew itself up with its early fissile experimentation.”
“Yes,” Sad-harr agreed impatiently. “But what does that have to do with--”
“Right!” Momon spoke over him in excitement. “So, it’s just like how Da-Teplan, led by ‘First Citizen’ Arqueniou, formed the roots of the Qloathi Senate that’s still in place today.”
Sad-harr raised his free hand and rubbed at his temples. “You do realize that you’re comparing a person to a corporation?”
“Yes!” Momon waved his arms out for emphasis. “You just need to look at it a little metaphorically!”
“Metaphorically,” Sad-harr echoed with a sigh. He mumbled under his breath, “this is why I never bothered with the literary arts.”
Then immediately afterwards, he shook his head and spoke up louder to prevent the cadet from attempting further feats of historical analysis.
“Never mind. I’m still not interested. And you still haven’t actually explained why you’re here, cadet.”
“I did--oh, I guess I forgot that.” Momon chuckled a bit nervously. “So, I think I mentioned that we--that is, the Theater Club--we’re doing a play (sort of the Human version of a ride) based on parts of the Ride of Arqueniou Nin.”
“If you’re asking me to attend, I’m busy,” Sad-harr quickly told him. He waved another oyster at the youth. “Several experiments I’m overseeing, and data to collect, you understand.”
“Uh, sure,” Momon nodded as he inched back from the glowing mollusk that was being waved far too close for comfort. “But that wasn’t what I meant to ask. In a couple of scenes, we need to have people suffering from poisoned wine. Except, the only thing we have that looks close to the ceremonial wine is, well, normal wine. So we have, eh, problems with people sneaking shots of it, and running out just from the practice sessions. Those things aren’t easy to get on Terra still, you know?
Sadd-har stared at him, then turned his head to look at the beakers of multi-colored liquids arrayed on his table, then back at the cadet. “So you want...”
Momon shrugged apologetically. “I’ve been told by a, um, friend that you’re the guy to ask if we want something that looks like authentic wine, won’t get anyone drunk or actually ill, and tastes, well, horrible.”
There was a short pause as the two men stared at one another.
“Let me get this straight,” Sadd-har said slowly as he finally put down the tongs and the poor shellfish it held. “You want me to perform experimental testing on the...Qloathi palate?”
The fact that the Gaeni’s tone had gone from vague apathy and confusion to restrained excitement made Momon reconsider his request. But at this point, it was probably too late.
“Uh, not--well, not just Qloathi,” he corrected quickly, eager to share the suffering he’d probably just gotten himself into. “We have a lot of Humans too! And a few Andorians. Uh, maybe something that would work with any Federation species?”
“Ah, a challenge.” This time, the doctor’s voice was outright gleeful. “Well then! Of course I will help out the promising cadets of the Academy.”
The glare from the ceiling light as reflected from the surface of the Gaeni’s goggles looked quite sinister all of a sudden. Momon was already regretting his choice.
~~~~~
Inspired by the recent name vote (where we named our shiny new Enterprise-C!), and the fact that there are indeed canonical Starfleet ships bearing the name USS Equicon and USS Da-Teplan. I thought they sounded rather Gaeni and Qloathi (both OC species), respectively. Also, the canon Equicon is itself named after a series of fan conventions, so it’s a double reference!
Excerpt from The Ride of Arqueniou Nin
Adaptation by Shrev ch’Lantri and Taylor Lee
Starfleet Associated Press
Act X, Scene IV, Verses 1-5
STAGEHANDS, at scene change:
Lo come the morning, fires[1] once more are dimmed
The veiled night give away
Resumed the council
Brave men that have survived
Burnt ash, gored ichor, poisoned touch within
SENATORS, while clashing[2]:
Sharp knives now hidden by deadlier words
Echo in council chambers
The chaos within
Mirror the suffering masses
Unheard in the pride of conflicted lords
HERALD, leading procession:
Clarion overture, voices surge resound
Comes speaker Haquita Nin
O Arqueniou!
Stand forth first among equals
Peerless authority, Senate lock unbound
MASKED MAN, emerging from shadow to circuit the room:
Midst praise and relief, spread fear in his wake
False smiles and secret hatred
Thwarted ambitions
Sent hidden orders away
Call for hidden strike, best a martyr make
SENATORS and HERALD, together while genuflecting:
Yet no tampered screen, whispered promise grand
And no danger to his life
Stops Arqueniou
From taking root in council
What last heard from myth: sacred Da-Teplan[3]
Footnotes:
1. Fire here refers not to a literal fire but to the colloquial name of a ceremonial display of lighting patterns on the exterior of the Qloathi Senate building, which has been historically used to provide a level of transparency to the public on matters discussed in closed sessions.
2. The Qloathi duelist tradition was once allowed in the Senate chambers. Historians believe that the official practice was banned from politics in part due to the events in this saga. It would take more than a century for the unofficial duels to fall out of favor. However, the hidden practices of assassination used as a political tool still persist to this day.
3. A literal translation would be “Second Grand Conclave”, so named after the mythical First Grand Conclave, or “Ur-Teplan”, believed to have created the senatorial system of the first republic government formed on Qloathi in the ancient past. However, as the term has become a distinct proper noun in modern colloquial Qloathi speech, it is left untranslated here.
“Draught of honeyed wine, fiery poison spread / Clashing icy cure in veins / Burning agony--Are you listening to me, doc?”
Akesh Momon dropped his voice from the affected pomposity of recitation to normal speech. He stood with arms akimbo and an accusing frown on his face. Unfortunately, the only other person in the small lab didn’t even bother to look up from the mass of glowing tubes and bubbling beakers on the table.
“Not at all, cadet,” Dr. Iniu Sad-harr said absently. “I’m afraid politics, even the literal, bloody kind, just isn’t one of my interests.”
As he spoke, he carefully picked up an oyster from a tray next to him with sterilized tongs, and dipped it into a beaker of incandescent teal liquid. The resulting reaction caused a plume of thick white smoke to rise up, which the Gaeni mad scientist ignored with the help of a pair of protective goggles he was wearing.
Momon kept his eyes averted from the poor mollusk as it was retrieved and placed into a bioscanner. He was pretty sure Terran shellfish weren’t suppose to come in that shade of green.
“It’s not politics,” the Qloathi youth tried to explain. “It’s art! And classical literature!”
“If you say so,” Sad-harr muttered, skepticism obvious in his tone.
“Really! It’s like...like…” Momon grasped hard for some kind of equivalence in Gaeni culture, before one finally came to him. “Da-Teplan is like your EquiCon!”
That comparison finally caught the Ganei doctor’s attention, enough to finally look up from his experiment and stare bemusedly at the cadet. Though, the effect was somewhat spoiled by the opacity of his goggles.
“What, the EquiCon Cooperative, as in the ‘Grandfather of the Technocracy’? How does that make any sense?” Sad-harr waved his tongs to emphasize his words, ignoring the still dripping mollusk in its grip.
“Well, it’s known as the ‘First Institute’...right?” Momon said, though his voice tapered off into a question. “...The first institution that signed the Global Illumination Initiative, which evolved into the ITG?”
The Gaeni doctor raised an eyebrow, the motion barely visible behind his goggles. “Yes...” he drawled cautiously, not sure if he really wanted to hear the rest of this argument.
“And whose charter was adapted and re-adoped by many modern institutes even a century later,” the apparent amateur historian continued more confidently, “long after the original institution blew itself up with its early fissile experimentation.”
“Yes,” Sad-harr agreed impatiently. “But what does that have to do with--”
“Right!” Momon spoke over him in excitement. “So, it’s just like how Da-Teplan, led by ‘First Citizen’ Arqueniou, formed the roots of the Qloathi Senate that’s still in place today.”
Sad-harr raised his free hand and rubbed at his temples. “You do realize that you’re comparing a person to a corporation?”
“Yes!” Momon waved his arms out for emphasis. “You just need to look at it a little metaphorically!”
“Metaphorically,” Sad-harr echoed with a sigh. He mumbled under his breath, “this is why I never bothered with the literary arts.”
Then immediately afterwards, he shook his head and spoke up louder to prevent the cadet from attempting further feats of historical analysis.
“Never mind. I’m still not interested. And you still haven’t actually explained why you’re here, cadet.”
“I did--oh, I guess I forgot that.” Momon chuckled a bit nervously. “So, I think I mentioned that we--that is, the Theater Club--we’re doing a play (sort of the Human version of a ride) based on parts of the Ride of Arqueniou Nin.”
“If you’re asking me to attend, I’m busy,” Sad-harr quickly told him. He waved another oyster at the youth. “Several experiments I’m overseeing, and data to collect, you understand.”
“Uh, sure,” Momon nodded as he inched back from the glowing mollusk that was being waved far too close for comfort. “But that wasn’t what I meant to ask. In a couple of scenes, we need to have people suffering from poisoned wine. Except, the only thing we have that looks close to the ceremonial wine is, well, normal wine. So we have, eh, problems with people sneaking shots of it, and running out just from the practice sessions. Those things aren’t easy to get on Terra still, you know?
Sadd-har stared at him, then turned his head to look at the beakers of multi-colored liquids arrayed on his table, then back at the cadet. “So you want...”
Momon shrugged apologetically. “I’ve been told by a, um, friend that you’re the guy to ask if we want something that looks like authentic wine, won’t get anyone drunk or actually ill, and tastes, well, horrible.”
There was a short pause as the two men stared at one another.
“Let me get this straight,” Sadd-har said slowly as he finally put down the tongs and the poor shellfish it held. “You want me to perform experimental testing on the...Qloathi palate?”
The fact that the Gaeni’s tone had gone from vague apathy and confusion to restrained excitement made Momon reconsider his request. But at this point, it was probably too late.
“Uh, not--well, not just Qloathi,” he corrected quickly, eager to share the suffering he’d probably just gotten himself into. “We have a lot of Humans too! And a few Andorians. Uh, maybe something that would work with any Federation species?”
“Ah, a challenge.” This time, the doctor’s voice was outright gleeful. “Well then! Of course I will help out the promising cadets of the Academy.”
The glare from the ceiling light as reflected from the surface of the Gaeni’s goggles looked quite sinister all of a sudden. Momon was already regretting his choice.
