The Ansha Tales: Whoever utters…
Ansha sat outside on a balcony overlooking the village of Dirba. It was early morning, and the cool air felt refreshing. The only sounds that could be heard were that of insects, and the occasional passing of the one shuttle that services the area. Other than that, she sat, wrapped in a shawl, wearing a kamees tunic over a pair of Starfleet Academy sweat pants and a pair of woolen socks on her feet.
The problem with never sleeping is that one is always awake to think. There is never a rest from thinking. There is no escape from consciousness. In this, she was jealous of the rest of the family, who were sleeping soundly in their beds, dreaming away the dark, star filled night sky.
Ansha could only sit and watch the world as it slept around her as she had always done. She could only think about the experiences that occurred in the past, and ponder the consequences. Of course, at the current time, the only thing that dominated her mind concerned the loss of her command, or rather the ship she was appointed to command and over half its crew, The USS Ecstasea.
She wished she had died that day. God, it seems, has other plans.
“Bole So Nihal,” she whispered as her mind wandered back.
The klaxon blared as the bridge filled with smoke. The consoles that were not dead were shooting sparks or internally on fire. Any crew still alive were placed into what few single person escape pods still functioned.
Ansha watched as the last working pod, containing Lieutenant Anakkei Solla, had jettisoned off into space and headed to the preprogrammed rendezvous with the other escape pods, safely away from the ticking time bomb that was the USS Ecstasea.
“Containment breach in two minutes,” the apathetic, emotionless voice announced.
Ansha looked back at the door to the ready room, where she kept a spare EVA suit. Several crossmembers had fallen in front blocking any chance she would have of retrieving the suit and using it to escape. She began removing her uniform and protective underlayer catsuit in the hopes that maybe she would freeze before the explosion and possibly, on a long shot, be ejected into space where she could be retrieved.
She stood there, naked, with only her wrist mount PADD/Tricorder on. It would need to act as a transponder. She raised it to her mouth and began to speak.
“Final log, Lieutenant Commander Ansha Wind-People, Acting captain, USS Ecstasea. I…” she couldn’t think of what to say next. She shook her head, opened her mouth to speak again but nothing would come out. She finally gave it an order. “Tricorder, transponder mode.”
“Transponder mode engaged,” the device responded through a bone conductive speaker only she could hear.
“Tricorder, lock all entries. Enable evidence mode.”
“Evidence mode engaged,” it replied.
It was then that she began to feel sick. It was the smoke and fumes. She was now being poisoned. There would be no chance of survival now. Not even her spores would survive. She would have no offspring and no other Wind People was around for her to share her final experiences. It was to be a lonely final sublime experience.
She knelt on the deck, naked, and began to pray loudly.
“Bole So Nihal…Sat Sri Akal!”
She repeated it again, but louder. And again, and again.
The door to the lift was ripped open suddenly. There, in the darkness, lit by the fires and sparks, was a hulking nightmare of a beast. It was a giant tardigrade.
“Oh come on! Really?” Ansha cried out. “I cannot get a break.”
She looked at the tardigrade as it approached, though it was not doing so aggressively.
“Well, I guess you might as well make a meal out of me. At least my dying moments will be of use to someone.”
The tardigrade did not pounce as she had expected though. It instead approached slowly and then extended its tendrils from its pronounced proboscis. Ansha was quite confused by this. She held her hand up to touch the tendrils. Once contact was made a flood of thoughts coursed between the two as she saw experiences from the tardigrade’s point of view.
This was an Adjaellian tardigrade, one from her species’ home planet Adjaellia, and apparently, like her own species, can share experiences, feelings and knowledge learned.
”Surprise. You are from my home node. I have traveled through many nodes. Anger. Captured by meat things, the hunters. Relief. Let their guard down and I killed many. Surprise. then I find you here.”
”Fear. You are a predator of my people. Surprise. You can share emotions/experiences like my people do. I am captain of this ship. I am dying. It will explode. Resignation. I guess you will eat me?”
”Remorse. No, we will not. We did not know that spore things had thoughts/emotions/experiences. Confused. We learned from the one who had taken a meat thing name called Megan. Remorse. We know now. You are bound to us by our home node. We know. Exiles, all of us. We know of your new home node on the meat thing’s leisure node. We learned this from the Megan spore thing. We will stay away.
”Shock. You know about our new collective?”
”Sadness. We know, but we will no longer eat your offspring dust. Sacred. Spore things are sacred. Spore things are having trouble making more spore thing nodes. Sadness, spore things are no longer on our home node. Anger. Meat things harmed our home node.”
“Sadness. Yes. I remember The Grove of the Sweet Wood, on the planet Adjaellia.”
”Disgust. The meat things name our home node.”
”Hope. The meat things, people of this galaxy, are helping to restore the Wind People. They have punished those that harmed our planet. Please forgive them.”
”Satisfied. We will not attack meat things that help. If meat things help spore thing nodes we will not kill meat things. Hope. We will not harm spore things on new home node or anywhere. We are all exiles now. We are bound by our old home node.”
”Gratitude.Thank you. If you can help them please do.”
A secondary explosion rings out.
”Concern. This meat thing home is breaking. It will kill you, spore thing.”
”Despair. It does not matter. Pain. I am poisoned. Sadness. I am going to die here. You need to go. Take my final experiences and go.”
”Determined. There is still time. I will save you. Take you to the bigger meat thing’s home node nearby. Meat things may save you there.”
”Gratitude. If you can. Thank you. Worry. We need to hurry. Leave the blinking thing on me so that my friends can find me.”
“Containment breach in thirty seconds,” the computer called out.
” Determined. I must remove your meat thing skeleton to make you your true spore thing node. Make you smaller.”
With that, the tardigrade rapidly assisted Ansha in removing her flesh from her skeleton. The eyeballs rolled away, finger nails, hair, and toenails all went flying, until she was nothing more than a green lump. The tardigrade then stuck the tricoder device into the middle of the lump, and began to ball up Ansha tightly around it.
“Ten,” the computer called out. “Nine”
The tardigrade shuffled Ansha into its arms/legs and then made its way to one of the bulkheads near the escape pods.
“Eight”
It began tearing through the panelling, and into the access space.
“Seven”
“Six”
The Tardigrade then began tearing apart the outer armored bulkhead, which made Ansha worried neither would make it.
“Five”
The beast continued to work on the bulkhead, with both claw and brute force. The bulkhead began to buckle.
“Four”
A gap appeared that began venting whatever atmosphere was left on the bridge into outer space. Still, Ansha was not sure there would be time. She could however feel herself drifting into stasis as she became colder. Nothing mattered now. Whatever happens happens.
“Bole So Nihal…Sat Sri Akal,” she thought to herself.
“Three”
The tardigrade widened the opening until it could barely fit through the opening. It sent Ansha through first then began wiggling through.
“Two”
The last bit of the tardigrade was stuck stubbornly in the hole. It pushed against the outer hull while maintaining a paw on Ansha.
“One”
With a concussive pop the large creature pulled free of the stricken vessel and wrapped itself around Ansha. A blinding flash suddenly enveloped Ansha, then silence. She did not have her eyeballs so her vision was limited but she felt it, she tasted it, she smelled it; what seemed to be every galaxy, every star, every planet, every plant, every animal,… all of them right here. It was peaceful. It was like Heaven. Then she slipped into unconsciousness as she froze solid.
Ansha was roused from her thoughts by a single hummingbird hawk moth that landed on her nose. She stuck a hand out and it, as if it was planned, fluttered over to her outstretched finger.
“Oh, what are you trying to tell, dear moth?” she inquired as she looked at the winged insect. “Maybe I should relinquish this despair? Easier said than done, my friend.”
The moth then fluttered away.
“I wish you could tell me how. How I can relieve myself of this pain and fly away like you. Maybe you fly high enough to ask God?” She chuckled at the juvenile level of that question. “I wish I knew the plan.”
The moth again reappeared into view and landed on Ansha’s nose.
“Fine, you want to perch there, then there you shall perch. Did you happen to ask by any chance? Even if you did, I guess you would not be able to tell me, could you? Even if you know Hukam, you would probably not tell a lowly creature like me. No matter, my little friend. You can keep me company while I wait for the sunlight.” She smiled. and leaned back in the chair with the moth content to rest on her nose.