Stardate 73576.1; July 29, 2396
EPISODE
36
Written by Chris Adamek
ADDITIONAL CHARACTERS
Administrator Al’tiir
Admiral William Grayson
Underling Nafar
Admiral Alexis O’Connor
Ensign Flora Sanders
Underling Sa’sheer
Captain Jeremy Talbot
Overseer Talyere Rosat
Overseer Xi’Yor
Prologue
A single flame danced about
on the wick of an ancient candle in the Elorg cathedral.
Beside it, its only companion, a much shorter candle, was slowly
withering away into oblivion. Soon,
there would be only one. But not
tonight.
Tonight, for the last time, the two candles
would light the cathedral together, in the presence of the cathedral’s maestro,
who sat before them at the synthesizer.
Using an ancient fountain pen to construct his score, the maestro
rapidly inked various notes onto the blank sheet of paper before him.
He scribed for what seemed like hours before
finally placing the pen down beside the dying candle and inputting the notes
into the synthesizer. The computerized
musical device chirped happily as it accepted the notes, playing a rough
rendition of the piece with each additional note, until finally, the piece was
complete. With a touch of a button, the maestro initiated the synthesized
orchestra, which immediately commenced playing the input musical notes.
The concerto started off fairly quietly with
a simple quatrain of strings, gently oscillating about the musical scales,
building in strength as the movement progressed. Stronger grew the strings until finally, they were joined by a
brass section, sending the growing movement back into submission.
As the brass came to the forefront, the
strings endured in the background, contributing the backbone of the movement. Much as the strings had progressed, the
brass slowly picked up in intensity until finally, they reached their
magnificent apex, accompanied by a full orchestra by that point.
With the movement in full swing, the
sonorous music thundered throughout the cathedral, acquiring an evil, dark tone
by the middle of the movement. The
timpani slowly came to the forefront in a demanding fashion, the strings
propelled a sense of danger, and the brass suddenly shrieked up a terrible
octave, creating something less than music.
“Stop playback!” Xi’Yor shouted as the
haphazard brass section continued to spiral into chaos. Realizing the computer did not hear him,
Xi’Yor repeated his demand to the computer, only this time, much louder. As rapidly as it had descended into chaos,
the music delved into silence. “Much
better,” Xi’Yor whispered as cold, hard silence returned to the cathedral.
He pecked away at the synthesizer controls
for a moment until the section of music that had gone awry was on screen. He highlighted the selection before saying,
“Computer, adjust this selection’s octave.”
It complied, and the new rendition played
out in a series of nondescript bleeps.
Satisfied that the new results would be far superior to the chaos that
had erupted last time, Xi’Yor instructed the computer to resume playing the
movement at the point the chaos had started.
Again, the timpani came to the forefront
amidst the string’s sense of imminent danger, joined in short succession by the
brass section, this time propelling the danger to new heights. The sonorous brass section brought the
crescendo to its apex before dying down to a much calmer coda.
“Well done,” came the voice of Nafar as the
movement died down.
“Thank you, Nafar.” When he turned around, Xi’Yor, to his
surprise, noticed Nafar standing only a few meters behind him. Xi’Yor had not even noticed his yeoman’s
entrance. “Why have you summoned me?”
“It is time,” said Nafar simply.
Time for what? Xi’Yor had not the slightest
idea. He had an interrogation session
in eleven cycles, and a staff meeting in twelve, but nothing scheduled before
then. “You must be mistaken,” he told
his officer before returning to his work.
“I am not,” Nafar persisted. “You instructed me to summon you in eleven
cycles. According to the ship’s
chronometer, 11.1 cycles have been completed.
It is time for your interrogation session with Talyere.”
“Impossible!” Xi’Yor protested. “I just started my work here in the
cathedral a few cycles ago. Eleven could not
have passed in the interim.”
Xi’Yor suddenly noticed the cathedral had grown much darker in
recent cycles. Out of curiosity, he
looked up at his two candles—only to see there was one left. The shorter one had finally burnt out,
leaving only a puddle of dried wax in its wake. It’s companion still danced about, but at nearly half the size
Xi’Yor had last seen it. “Apparently, I
became more engrossed in my work than I had anticipated,” he decided.
Nafar readily agreed. “It
would seem so.”
Still in awe as to where the time had went, Xi’Yor rose from his
bench before the synthesizer and retrieved his pen from beside the puddle of
wax that had once been his companion candle.
Then, he stepped closer to the other candle.
Its bright orange flame lit the cathedral well enough, but for
now, its task was complete. Xi’Yor
brought his face very near the gentle flame, and with a gentle stream of his
breath, extinguished it.
For several seconds, the cathedral was pitch black. Not until the sensors detected movement in
the giant hall did the computer bother to compensate for the extreme
darkness. It was at that time when
several massive lights affixed to the ceiling filled the giant cathedral with
more light than Xi’Yor cared to see.
The light’s presence seemed to take away the cathedral’s mystery
and ominous mood, making it a friendly, happy place to be, casting a mood not
conducive to creating a musical masterpiece.
Having seen enough of the light, Xi’Yor opened what appeared to be
a covered tabernacle nestled away in the back of a semi-circular apse at the
back of the sanctum. Inside, instead of
a holy relic, was a modern-day computer.
Xi’Yor pecked away at the controls for several moments before getting
the computer to elicit a waiting bleep.
“Computer, terminate program,” he ordered at the tone.
It complied with another similar tone, and a moment later, the
entire cathedral disappeared. Replacing
it was a complex grid of hexagonal holo-generators mounted upon the walls and
ceiling, and a large set of doors just a few meters in front of the duo.
Nafar took the initiative and opened the doors for his commanding
officer. “Quite an excellent piece,” he
reiterated as he led Xi’Yor out into the corridor on board the Inkhezi. “Would you mind sharing its title?”
Xi’Yor smiled. “I knew you
would ask that,” he said simply. For
most pieces Xi’Yor had worked on, the title had usually been the last thing to
enter the equation. But this was a
terribly different movement. One filled
with triumph and battle. One filled
with heroes and demons. One Xi’Yor knew
was threaded into the Elorg’s destiny. “I call it our future,” he started, “I
call it our destiny. But for the
moment, I am afraid that will have to suffice.”
And at that very moment, a sudden feeling of doom rushed over
Nafar. He knew Xi’Yor’s track record
very well, and given his enigmatic answer to such a simple question, Nafar
realized Xi’Yor was up to something very, very big…