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Lt Cmdr Yogan Yalu – When symbionts sleep


Renos
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(( Deep Space 26, Central Hub Level 3, Starfleet Intelligence Sector Chief’s Office ))

 

::When fully illuminated, the office looked completely normal, like any other Starfleet installation anywhere else in the galaxy.  At the moment, however, with the lights low and flickering, and the station’s natural green glow cast about, the place looked eerie, sinister, as if something were afoot around every corner.  Like one might think an intelligence office should look, if all he had for reference were holosuite programs about espionage and interstellar intrigue.::

 

::In this office, nothing could be further from the truth.  On most days, it more closely resembled an office block at Starfleet Accounting than an intelligence outfit.  The men and women who staffed this location were data analysts, not field operatives.  They pored over information that came in from across the neighboring sectors, finding commonalities and drawing connections between things that were otherwise dissimilar.  Or at least they had been doing so, before they all fell asleep.::

 

::Tucked away in his office, Yogan Yalu had all but face-planted onto his trio of computer terminals, the data streaming down the screens in rows of letters and numbers.  The 42-year-old Trill officer had a sorely disappointing fantasy life, seldom dreaming about much at all besides his work.  For some reason, however, this sleep was different.  It was deep and full of vivid imagery, with characters from his own and four previous lifetimes making random appearances, one immediately after the other.::

 

::He saw Vorss, the third husband of his fourth host, chatting over a raktajino with Viyana, the mother of his first host.  And his own new bride, Zenna, whom he married earlier this year and was now carrying their first child, was hunched over a dom-jot table, in the middle of a match with his second host’s childhood best friend.::

 

Yalu:  What is going on?

 

::No one answered him.  They continued about their business, mingling with each other like guests at a dinner party.  As they faded from view, they were replaced with others, and Yogan knew them all.  Nearly two hundred fifty years’ and five lifetimes’ worth of friends, acquaintances, lovers, relatives, and friends, cascaded before him in a way that filled him with dread.::

 

Yalu:  Is this what happens when you’re about to die?

 

::From his extensive work alongside humans, Yogan had heard of a phenomenon in which one’s life “flashed” before one’s eyes when facing imminent death.  He thought it to be rubbish, like most aspects of human culture, but couldn’t ignore the similarity of that phenomenon to what he was currently experiencing.::

 

Zenna:  Would you like to play?

 

::Yogan’s wife casually beckoned him to join their game of dom-jot, but his confusion only paralyzed him further.  He looked at Zenna, heavily pregnant, with suspicion.::

 

Yalu:  You only found out you were pregnant two weeks ago.  You’re not showing yet.

 

::Zenna immediately vanished, as did her anachronistic dom-jot partner. They were replaced by two other figures from Yalu’s past lifetimes, but their faces and names blurred in his memory, and he couldn’t remember which host they belonged to.  Was it Idarro’s favorite aunt?  Or Ethezia’s university professor?  Oled’s best friend?  Or Mavili’s obnoxious neighbor?::

 

::His entire life had been devoted to understanding and processing data, but he was unable to make heads or tails of what was unfolding before him.  Unaware that he was dreaming, he was confounded by how flagrantly the universe betrayed the rules of logic and physics.::

 

::From the distance, four figures emerged and began walking toward him.  Unlike the flurry of relatives and business associates that had been milling about, Yogan had no trouble recognizing this quartet.  They were his symbiont’s previous hosts.  The four people who, despite having lived in different times, he knew better than anyone else.  The four people with whom he, someday, would exist alongside, within a new host.  As they neared, he felt their collective presence, which triggered his own sense of inferiority.  They were great, he was average.  They were worthy of the gift of joining, he was not.::

 

::They closed the distance and stood before him, side by side.::

 

Hosts:  You still have much to learn.

 

Lt Cmdr Yogan Yalu

Starfleet Intelligence Data Cruncher

Deep Space 26

 

as simmed by

 
 

Lt Cmdr Didrik Stennes

Lead Counselor

USS Blackwell NCC-58999

Justin

D238804DS0

FNS Contributor

"There is but little need to spend time with foolish diversions for time flies away so swiftly by itself; and, when once gone, is never to be recalled."

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