Ad Astra :: Star Trek Fanfiction Archive ^{Beam me up, Scotty.}

Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 4: Starship Trooper
Scene 3: Knowledge of the Land

4.3
Knowledge of the Land

“They’re kind of like squoushy medicine balls, about 5 foot in diameter. At first we treated them as if they were rolling dogs. But gradually we realized they were far, far more intelligent than that.”

Sasha Soko was stretched out on a cot in the back of the Bluebird, hands behind his head, fingers laced. Guz Maxwell had refolded the other cot into a chair and was relaxing, guitar in hand. From time to time he would strum a chord, or fingerpick a neat figure, using the most mellow sound the instrument could produce to coax the story out of his fellow marine.

Spike and Raanda Habib were up front. 

“Fender Marsh was a perfect paradise for them. They were the apex species. So we thought we had discovered a paradise for us,” Sasha continued. “Instead of resisting us, the foozies observed us, befriended us, and only gradually allowed us to realize that the paradise that was Fender Marsh was of their making.”

“How could they make anything if they had no arms? No hands? Not even eyes?” Guz asked, with a musical sting.

“They had a hundred mouths. They would swallow seeds and germinate them, selecting them for specific traits. They would swallow fish eggs, amphibian eggs, insect eggs, and select them for specific traits. They weren’t just farming. The were transforming the biosphere - the entire biosphere. They communicated biochemically, not just by pheromones, but even by the plants and animals they chose to nurture instead of digest. They bred stinging insects and poisonous snakes to exterminate any predators they were afraid of. And if they had wanted, they could easily have gotten rid of us.”

“I thought you said you were from Ohio,” said Guz.

“Akron, Ohio,” Sasha confirmed. I was born there and I graduated high school there just before I joined up. But we lived on Fender Marsh from the time I was 3 until I was 15. We moved back to Earth just in time - just before the Dominion destroyed the planet. There’s not even an atmosphere there anymore. The foozies welcomed us to their home. Then they lost their home because we were there.”

Guz played a few more chords and passages. The guitar was set to a particularly mellow sound - surf guitar. The sound just dripped out of the instrument. Guz paused. “So did any of them survive?”

“There’s a colony in Arkansas and another somewhere in Congo. I think there’s a colony somewhere on Bajor. Maybe a few other worlds. They wanted to, in their words, “taste the stars”.” Sasha rolled onto his side and watched as Guz cased up his guitar, then began field stripping a phaser rifle. 

In Star Fleet, no one would dare open a phaser unless they were an engineer, specifically trained to work on such weapons. Not so with marines. All United Earth Governments marine services, from the United States to India to Ivory Coast to Cuba, followed a single military doctrine. No marine could carry or use a weapon that they could not field strip, repair, and reassemble. 

“So are they why you joined up?” Guz asked, not looking up from his task. His fingers moved with the same surety of purpose as they had on the guitar. The standard issue phaser rifle contained within its housing every tool needed to field strip it. Small parts were designed to fit securely in the right side of the housing, which also contained a spare power pack, a spare refractor crystal and a few spare lenses - the parts that most often needed replacement.

Sasha watched with some admiration. Guz was really good with his hands. He was the youngest of their group, only a few months out of basic training and already picked for the Space Hounds - the most elite service within the U.S. Marine Corps.

Sasha took a deep breath. “Yeah. That entire world was a wonder. A biosphere shaped by an intelligent life form without hands, without eyes. But great minds. Destroying that world was one of the worst of the Dominion's many war crimes, so yeah, definitely part of why I joined up. My unit was en route to the front when word came through that the war was over.”

Guz cased the phaser rifle and uncased a bullpup and began field stripping the fully automatic projectile weapon. The rifle was designed to catch its bullet casings and feed them into a separate compartment of the 150-round magazine, which clipped into the top of the rifle. 

“How about you, Guz? Why did you join up?”

“Dick,” Guz replied.

“What?” 

Guz laughed. “There’s no one who can give a guy a good hard time like a horny marine. And I can tell within seconds which guys are willing to take me out for a drive.”

Sasha laughed. Hard. Then: “I suppose I’m a little envious. The girls don’t make it quite so easy.”

“Don’t worry, Sasha,” Guz replied. He cased the bullpup, then looked into his comrade’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous. Just tell every girl in every port that you’re a virgin and they’ll tear your clothes off just to get to be the first. If you can keep that wide-eyed innocent, slightly desperate look, you can probably lose your virginity to at least 20 or 30 different women.”

Guz and Sasha shared a laugh.

“So seriously, you just joined to get laid?” Sasha asked.

“You grew up on Fender Marsh. I grew up in Burley, Idaho,” Guz replied. “There are still some very backward people there. I got beaten up a few times for being, well, me. That’s never going to happen again. Not to me. Not to anyone in my sight.”

4.3