Season 5

Episode: Disaster

This episode opens with Picard taking 3 children who were winners of the science fair on a tour of the ship.  During the tour the ship runs into a quantum filament that damages the ship, takes down communication and traps the crew in various parts of the ship.  Picard’s ankle is broken and he has to try and get the children to safety.  In the meantime Troi, O’Brien and Ensign Ro are on the bridge and it turns out Troi is the ranking officer.  She is faced with a tough choice when a containment leak threatens to blow up the entire ship.  She can either separate the saucer section and rescue those in it or diver energy to engineering and hope someone is still alive and can stop the leak.  Ensign Ro is for separating as there is no evidence anyone is alive.  Troi overrides her objections and waits.  Thankfully Data and Riker make their way to engineering in time to stop the leak.

A funny side story is that Keiko O’Brien goes into labor and only has Worf to help her deliver.  Nothing like seeing a big old Klingon trying to walk a human woman through labor based solely off of his experience during a simulation.  He even growls at one point how this labor was very unorderly unlike the simulation.

The other humorous part of this episode was seeing Picard’s discomfort with the idea of having to spend time with three kids.

I think this episode was a nice prelude to Troi’s re-evaluating her position on the Enterprise.  She holds the rank of Lt. Commander but during the emergency she had no clue about any standard procedures, any science information, etc.  In a way it is kind of scary to have someone with that little background in charge that you can understand some of Ensign Ro’s angst.

I find the Seven of Swords to be a very interesting card.  The traditional meaning is ‘thief’.  Corrine Kenner in “Tarot for Writers” describes it thus: “The Seven of Swords depicts the proverbial thief in the night. He has stolen into his enemy’s camp, and he’s making off with the weapons left unguarded.  The enemies are oblivious to the fact that they have been invaded.” So, yes, this is the usual interpretation of this card and I often warn clients to take extra care of purses and wallets if it appears in a reading.

However, if I apply my ‘moving pictures‘ technique then the card can appear in a whole new light.  Pull away from the card; zoom out.  Doesn’t this version (the Mary Hanson-Roberts recolouration of the RWS) look as though the figure is an actor on a stage? His movements are exaggerated and his enjoyment is undisguised. He is almost relaxed as he prances off with his trophies. And look at it this way, aren’t all stage performances attempting to deceive the audience in some way? Albeit with the audience’s willingness to participate in the deception.

When the Seven of Swords appears in a reading, as well as mentioning, the ‘take care of your wallet’ mantra, I begin to wonder what is the querent deliberately overlooking? What ‘game’ is s/he participating in? Is the client ‘practising to deceive’ or are they allowing someone else to deceive them?

I also try to look at the situation in a positive way… after all this guy is happy; this may not be a bad thing.  How about if this card means that the client is in the process of reclaiming something that belongs to them? It might not be a physical object – it might be their reputation, their confidence, their self-belief, their talent or even their faith. Perhaps they allowed someone to humiliate them or denigrate them and this is their version of revenge – they simply stop believing that that person can hurt them any more.

I like this card.

Read more about ‘Moving Pictures‘.

Listen to the episode HERE.

When Mandi likes a thing, she needs more of that thing in whatever form she can get it. Before discovering Star Trek fanfic, it were the official novels. At one point she had the entire set.

I’m a bit different when it comes to my fandoms. I tend to only enjoy the original iteration. With films I often don’t even feel the need to see the sequels. Though, of course,  I eventually do. I just don’t feel the need. For me having that one perfect movie or book is enough.

So I generally don’t wait in baited anticipation for movie adaptations of my favourite books and reading about the Star Wars Expanded Universe never appealed to me (though I did dip my toe into the Thrawn graphic novels).  The same has applied to Star Trek books. I have more than enough Star Trek to watch and re-watch, why would I need, what I assumed were poorly written, novels on top of that?

But with Star Trek there’s a few extra Nerd Hurdles I needed to leap. Yes, the assumption of simplistic, cheesy writing is at the top of the list, but it’s due mostly to some of the worst book cover art outside of Harlequin romances.

Take Masks for instance. Floating heads over a volcano. And not just the usual nicely blended floating heads you might see on a movie poster, but these look like they were torn from another book cover and pasted on as an afterthought. Picard looks okay but what’s with Riker’s expression? He’s looking both drunk and constipated. I suppose that fits with my general feelings about Riker as a character anyway. Not the wall-eyed drunk so much but there’s something stuck up somewhere within him.

Which is one of the reason’s I’ve never jumped on the Star Trek bookmobile. They seem generally Riker intensive. They were also lined up on one of my highschool buddy’s shelves along with his Dragonlance books. Forever the two series have been intertwined in my subconscious. That’s not exactly true. They’ve been intertwined in the forefront of my consciousness, no “sub” about it. I imagine I don’t need to explain Dragonlance books are a hurdle for me on principle.

 So what did I discover about Star Trek novels during the course of this rather tangent-intensive episode? You’ll have to listen (link at the top of the post) to find out.

Notes: I have since read up about Oliver Cromwell and the Princes in the Tower on Wikipedia.  So there’s no need to school me on English history. Well, there is a need. But not about those two particular subjects.

~ Jakob

“What happened?” Asli asked, still woozy from the sleep spell the Spinners had cast on her.

“Everything’s all right now, Asli. It’s me, Troi. I saved you from Mother Spider,” I said, happy to see my sister safe and sound.

“You did what?!” she asked, a surprisingly aggressive tone to her question.

“I saved you,” I restated. “You’re going to become an unwilling vessel to Mother Spider. So, with the help of Suage, I broke you out.”

“You broke me out?!!!!!” she yelled. Things were decidedly taking an odd turn here. I dismissed her reaction as being due to her disorientation and proceeded to explain to her how I had masterfully defeated a goddess. “Beetle gave me the clue I needed. Mother Spider came to our world because she was running from her enemy. I knew my spells wouldn’t work on her, so there was no point in trying to banish her. The only other option left was to bring her enemy here. And that’s what I did, I brought Wasp The She-Warrior to our world.”

“By the Mother! You’re even more stupid than I thought! When I heard about you being a Weaver, I couldn’t believe. Mom and Dad knew nothing about it, but… But then we broke the forgetfulness spell you cast on Geda. Oh, Troi, how could you?!!”

I could not answer that. I could only regret it.

“And then you killed her and the others…”

“They would have killed me!” I protested.

“Their orders were to bring you in, not to kill you. But can you really blame Geda for trying to do it?!”

Again, no answer from me.

“Now you tell me you have unleashed another alien god on our world and destroyed the only one who really cared about us humans?!”

“‘Cared about us’?! She forced you to serve her!”

“Nobody forced me to anything! I could’ve left anytime I wanted, but I didn’t. Don’t you see? Are you that blind?! The Insect Gods don’t care about us. To them we are only a source of power, nothing more. Mother Spider was different. She came in fear, that’s true. But she never hid her alien nature. She knew she was different and she made it plain to our ancestors.”

“What about the Weavers? She killed them all,” I said righteously. Although everything Asli said made sense, I couldn’t believe I had never noticed any of it.

“The Insect Gods brought the Weaver’s downfall. They banished the human gods and cut the Weaver’s link to them. They didn’t exterminate them, because they knew the Weaver’s were no threat. When Mother Spider came, the Insect Gods decided to use the few Weavers left against her. They secretly increased their powers and manipulated them into attacking her. Like you, she was only defending herself.

“But that’s all academic now, right, Mighty Weaver?” Sarcasm didn’t become Asli. “The Insect Gods played you like a harp. They got rid of their only opposition here and managed to bring another one of their comrades over. I bet you didn’t even consider what your little ‘heroic act’ will mean to Gazdra. With Mother Spider gone, who will protect us against the other nations? We are mainly traders. Our army cannot stand against the forces of the northern nations. Mother Spider was our only defense.

“We’ll fall, Weaver. We’ll fall hard. And all because of you!”

That was the last time Asli ever spoke to me. We met again, but she never addressed me. She would send someone else to talk to me and they would always refer to me as Weaver, never Troi. Her dark predictions came true. Without the godly power of Mother Spider, Gazdra succumbed to the richer nations. Armies invaded our city, raped our women, killed our men, took our children as slaves and looted our riches. The city once known as the Pearl of the Shining Coast, became nothing more than tarnish. Most of the Spinners fled Gazdra. Those who stayed to help the city, were killed during the invasion. Like my parents.

Suage and I kept traveling, selling our skills to the highest bidder, but it wasn’t the same. The carefree attitude I had before was gone. Eventually, I got tired of it all and said goodbye to Suage. I traveled alone, trying to make sense of my life. It has been several years since that fateful night. I have carried that burden with me since then. It’s a heavy one, but that’s good. That way I’ll never forget it. And it’ll strengthen my resolve.

Because no matter what, I’ll get back at the Insect Gods.

Two years after Perdunia, I found myself in the army of General Gortas. He had staged a coup against the governor of the city-state of Zavras. The coup hadn’t been that successful and as a result, his army retreated to the mountains east of the city. That’s when Suage and I were hired to help. Using my spells, I gathered enough intelligence to guarantee a string of victories for Gortas that carried us to the gates of Zavras. On the eve of the final battle, we camped a few miles away from the city walls.

The night was clear and warm. Hundreds of bonfires lighted the plain that led to the city, creating a reflection of the star-filled sky. The soldiers kept busy by checking their weapons and equipment. Suage did the same. I tried to Weave a spell, but had difficulty focusing my mind on the task. I had been feeling uneasy for the past few days and I thought I knew exactly why, but I had to be sure. I took a ball of yarn I had and, mentally, asked the question. Then, I threw the ball while holding onto the end of the string. The ball rolled for a few seconds, leaving a trail of thread on the ground, and started to make a slow, lazy curve. It kept going until it reached the trailing thread again, forming an almost perfect circle.

The answer was obvious.

I turned to Suage and said, “We have to go back.”

“What?” he said, caught unaware by the sudden statement.

“It’s time, Suage. We have to go back to Gazdra. I have to help Asli.”

Understanding filled his face, but the practical man was still there. “As soon as the battle ends, we’re out of here, Troi.”

“Very well,” I said. I knew the battle would be over before noon.

***

Gazdra hadn’t changed a bit. The same low buildings extended as far as you could see; the harbor was as busy as ever, even late at night; and, a couple of miles away from the city, on the only hill that we had, stood the monastery. Built more like a fortress than a place of worship, it dominated the top of the hill like a crown atop a king’s head. Its many windows, some lighted and some dark, resembling the jewels on a crown.

That was our target.

Although I wanted to check on my parents, I knew I could waste no time. Suage and I had decided to go straight to the monastery. We both agreed that we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves. So we paid the captain of the Zicori, the vessel in which we traveled, to delay our arrival at Gazdra until the night. We put in at the harbor close to midnight. The quickest route to the monastery was to go north on Main Avenue, until we reached the northern gate; from there on we had only to follow Hill Road. However, two cloaked strangers walking on Main Avenue that late would be too conspicuous. I could use the masking spells I had Weaved into our cloaks, but I didn’t dare use my magic that early; I didn’t want to chance alerting the Sisterhood of our presence.

Deciding on a more subtle approach, we took the winding back streets of West Gazdra. After twenty minutes, we reached Wind City. I couldn’t help then but be flooded by memories, especially those of that fated “expedition” we went on. In a certain way, that was the beginning of everything, of all the problems and all the glories. I was sure Suage felt the same way, although he didn’t say anything.

A few minutes after leaving Wind City, we came across the northwestern gate. The sentry, obviously tired and bored, didn’t give us any trouble and, soon, we were out of Gazdra, on the road known as Farmer’s Way. We proceeded along it for a few minutes, long enough to get out of the sentry’s view. Then we veered away to our right and walked towards the northeast, until we reached Hill Road. Instead of traveling on the road itself, we kept a few feet away from it, so as to decrease our chances of being spotted. The road went up the hill and circled it three times before ending at the monastery’s gate. Just before the last turn, we stopped and I looked at Suage. He reminded me of one of the barbarians who lived in these plains thousands of years ago. His clothes, most of them Weaved by me, had an outlandish look to them; his beard and hair were full of braids and other sorts of arrangements, anything that I could use to Weave. My appearance wasn’t any better. I had also let my hair grow longer and now sported a beard; and my clothes were as barbaric as Suage’s.

I had tied all the spells together into a simple one. That way, I could activate all of them at the same time. Now was the time. With a single knot, I completed the spell. If my calculations were correct, we would be undetectable by the Spinners.

We started towards the monastery once again. Most of the windows were dark now, but some of the higher ones had light coming from them. With the help of a rope and a hook that Suage brought, we climbed into one of the first floor windows. The room was dark and empty. We went straight to the corridor. We could hear chanting coming from the upper floors, but there were no sisters in sight. Using the bead-hanging-from-the-six-knotted-thread spell to locate Asli, we made our way to the monastery’s dungeons. On the lower level, we found a pair of iron doors. By the way the thread tugged at my hand, I knew that Asli was on the other side of those doors… and Mother Spider too.

“I should go alone now,” I whispered to Suage.

“No way,” he whispered back. “I’m not letting you go inside without me to protect you.”

“Believe me, Suage, there’s no protection whatsoever that you can give me against what’s inside this room. You’ll help me more if you guard the door against the Spinners.”

He didn’t like it, but he agreed. He had learned to trust my judgement in situations that involved magic.

I entered the room. The first thing I saw was Asli lying on slab of stone, a thin film of web covering her from head to toes. At each end of the slab, a brazier. They were the only source of light in the room, bathing everything in a reddish hue. Beyond the slab, the room was immersed in darkness. I could discern nothing, but I could smell the danger in the stale, humid air. I moved towards Asli and something squirmed in the darkness. Slowly, a leg flowed out of it — hairy, insectoid and black. Then, another leg… and another one…until a head emerged — black and hairy as the rest, eight eyes on it… all looking at me. She was big too. The head alone was as large as my body. Power radiated from Her like light from the sun.

“The Weaverrr,” She said in a rasping voice, Her pincers clicking wildly. “I knew you would come.”

I remained silent. I could think of nothing to say. The only thing occupying my mind was the small tapestry I carried. I had spent the last two years working on it. I started as soon as I managed to get some sense out of what Beetle of the Booming voice had told me. My only chance to defeat Mother Spider lay in being able to cast it.

“Oh, so you have a spell you want to cast, yarn-spinnerrr,” She said in what I thought was a humorous tone. I panicked. If she could read my mind, then all was lost. She would know I was up to. But then I calmed down and thought. Nothing I had ever read about the Insect Gods and Mother Spider suggested they could read minds. Beetle didn’t do that during the Day of Visitation. He knew I was a Weaver because of the magic. That’s how she knew about the spell: the magic in the tapestry and the way I held onto it. That meant I still had a chance. I began unfurling the tapestry.

“Yes, yes, cast your spell, for all the good it will do to you. When you are done, I will drain your life’s sweet juices from your body, like I did with your pathetic predecessors.”

I finished unfurling the tapestry and the spell began to work immediately. The mystical patterns imbued in its threads glowed with a fiery light as they gathered energy. In a few seconds, the tapestry had been consumed by a conflagration and the ball of energy in its place shot upward, exploding twelve feet above the ground. The portal was open and a buzzing sound flooded the room. Alien as Her appearance was, I could detect worry in Mother Spider. Her pincers were still and there was a tension to Her legs and head. The buzzing got louder. I ran to Asli and took her in my arms, ripping through the web film. As I turned around to run for the door, I saw her coming out of the portal. She was as majestic as Mother Spider.

“Nooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!” I heard Mother Spider scream, but I paid no attention. I was screaming myself, trying to get Suage to open the doors. He heard and we got out of the room. On our way out, we crossed with several Spinners. They tried to stop us, but between Suage’s sword and their suddenly absent powers, they failed.

Once outside the monastery, we heard a loud explosion and saw pillars of black smoke emerging through several windows.

It was over.

Life went on. I learned my father’s craft and helped him with work. At night, I kept studying the Weaver skills. Before I had known, six years have passed.

I was resigned I would live a mundane life. I would probably become an upholsterer and inherit my father’s business. My magic-using abilities would be nothing more than a peculiar hobby of mine — and a secret one at that.

But of course, Fate had one last little surprise for me.

One morning, during summer, I was taking a chair to Cabdias, the silk merchant, when a particularly beautiful butterfly crossed my path. It flittered here and there in the hot summer air, zigzagging through the tents in the Central Market. I followed its flight and to my surprise saw it pass between two Spinners. By that time, I had controlled my fear of discovery. I concluded that unless I did something really stupid, the Spinners would never catch on to my being a Weaver. Despite that, one of them still attracted my attention that day. It took me a moment to realize why, but as soon as I had a closer look at her, I found out. The deep brown eyes, the straight brown hair, the delicate features… I hadn’t seen her in eight years, but I knew that that was my sister Asli. And going against all my instincts, I moved toward her. I wanted to talk to her, find out what had happened to her during those eight years. She had her back turned to me, but as I approached her I smiled anyway. I hadn’t felt so happy in years.

Then the other Spinner blocked my way and dragged me to the side, where Asli couldn’t see us.

“Is there a problem, young man?” she said in a tone that suggested she was my elder, although she looked as old as me. I recognized her then. Her name was Geda and we had played together when we were kids. I remembered her being more on the chubby side and rather overbearing, but it seemed that adulthood had been kind to her. She looked gorgeous, with luxurious wavy black hair that cascaded down her right shoulder, piercing green eyes and her body, even though it was covered in the conservative tunic and cloak of the Sisterhood, seemed to be the kind men would kill for.

“You know me, Geda. I’m…” I started, but she interrupted me.

“My name is Sister Agelena!” she said forcefully. “Do not make that mistake again. Address me incorrectly and you will suffer, youngster.”

“I’m… sorry, Sister Agelena,” I said apologetically. No sense in getting into an argument with a Spinner, when all I wanted was for them not to notice me. Of course, my impulsive action had already put me in a delicate situation. The sane thing to do was to forget about Asli and leave, but I was feeling a little insane that day. “I just wanted to talk to my sister.”

“She is not your sibling anymore. She is Sister Anatea now, a Spinner. You had better forget her. She is a different person now. She has no time for such frivolous matters as family.”

I thought of casting a spell. A simple one. Just enough to give me time to reach Asli. But then what? With that spell I would certainly alert the Sisterhood about my abilities. My life would be short, no doubt. They might even decide to eliminate my parents, just in case. Even Asli might suffer some kind of retribution. No, that wasn’t the time for foolish behavior. If I wanted to do something stupid, I should, at least, plan it more carefully.

“Very well, Sister Agelena. I apologize for my misconduct. It won’t happen again.”

“One more thing,” she said, “do not attempt to contact Sister Anatea again. I will know if you do that and I will come for you. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sister.” Satisfied with my performance, Geda moved back into the crowd and joined Asli. After a few seconds they had disappeared into the market. Despite all my reasoning, I began to feel this bitter taste in my mouth. It was the taste of revenge. I knew that before the day was over, I would do something extremely imprudent.

“Hey, upholsterer. Move aside and let a true man pass!” the loud voice coming from behind ordered me. Probably, one of the Cona boys. Those twins had made a hobby of terrorizing me since we were kids. However, that day was a bad day to mess with me. I decided that I would give them a lesson once and for all. I turned around, murder in my eyes.

And I was surprised.

It wasn’t one of the Cona boys. The man had long, unruly blonde hair down to his shoulders, a full beard of the same color and grayish blue eyes. His body was that of a warrior and I could see that the old rusty dagger had been replaced for a big menacing sword.

My friend had come home.

“Suage!” I exclaimed and we hugged. “I can’t believe you are back! How are you? What have you been doing? Did you become a mercenary?”

“Hold on, Troi. Take a breath,” he said, smiling. “We have plenty of time to talk. Actually, why don’t we grab a beer. I can answer all your questions then. Are you free now?”

“Well, I have to take this chair to Cabdias, on the Silk Boulevard, but after that I’m free.”

“Okay, I’ll accompany you and then we’ll head to a tavern.”

Taking the chair to Cabdias and collecting the payment didn’t take too long and soon we were at the Golden Silkworm, the closest tavern to the Silk Boulevard.

“So,” I said, “tell me what you’ve done these past six years.”

“Well, I’ve been around,” he said and laughed. “I accomplished what I set out to do, Troi. I became a warrior, a mercenary. And a damn good one at that! No matter where I go in Daria or Lemandi, my fame will have preceded me. Why, my prowess and roguish good looks even earned me a nickname, the Jaturi Tiger.”

I could see the resemblance between Suage and the fair-furred predator of the Jaturi plains, north of Gazdra. It was both physical and psychological.

“But what about you, my friend?” he asked. “Has life been good to you?”

“Pretty much,” I answered without enthusiasm.

“I see. What about that other stuff? Your ‘hobby’?”

“I still practice it and I’m also ‘damn good at it,’” I said, mimicking his laughter. He laughed back.

“But you don’t… use it, do you?”

“No, not really.” Once again, that bitter truth came back to haunt me. To be at the same time able and unable to pursue something that gave me pleasure beyond any upholstering job would ever do.

We remained silent for a few seconds. Suage looked pensive.

“Troi, our meeting wasn’t accidental. You know I have no use for Gazdra or anything from here except your friendship. I cut all ties to this city the day I left it.

“All ties…” he looked pensive again, but snapped back to the present in a second, “except my memories of our childhood adventures. During the last six years, when I needed to relax or take my mind away from my troubles, I always went back to those days. And although I found many friends and comrades in my travels, I never really shared the same level of friendship with anyone else. Eventually, I felt lonely. Even among hundreds of people, I had no one to relate to. You would be surprised how few Gazdrans are out there.

“I know I haven’t been an exemplary friend these past few years. I never wrote or made any attempt to send you news of me, but I never forgot our friendship, Troi.”

Suage was pouring his heart out to me. This was so unlike the Suage I knew as a kid. I realized then that he had changed a lot since last I had seen him. It had been only six years, but it might as well be sixty, for he seemed old ¾ spiritually, if not physically. I would even bet he had fallen in love, something I could never picture him doing when we were boys. At that moment, I wondered if I shouldn’t have also run from home. Would I have gained so much maturity in so little time? Probably. But then I might have had to sacrifice all of my innocence, like I suspected he did.

Anyway, all that got me wondering about the world beyond Gazdra.

“So I have a proposition for you, my upholsterer friend,” he said, interrupting my reverie. “Let’s face it: you don’t really want to follow in your father’s footsteps. I have nothing against him — Mother Spider knows he was a better parent than mine would ever care to be — but being an upholsterer is not a very thrilling career. Your hobby, on the other hand, is quite a valuable asset in my line of work. You don’t know how much people would pay to have a true magic-user working for them. And since you are the only one, beside the Sisterhood of ‘Spinsters’, that can actively use it, we could charge quite a bit.

“Are you interested, Troi? You, of course, would have to leave Gazdra and travel with me. But think about your future as an upholsterer…”

I finally could see some of the old Suage. The way he kept repeating “upholsterer”… He was trying to manipulate me. We did that a lot during our childhood. I would play on his sense of adventure and courage, and he would play on my fear of boredom. But, watching him doing it again, actually comforted me, instead of angering me.

“I don’t know, Suage…”

“Look, I know it’s a big decision and that my motives are rather selfish. I mean, I want to make more money and have my friend by my side, but if you discard that, it’s still a good offer.”

“I’ll have to think about it.”

“Of course, but the thing is: I’m leaving tomorrow morning, with the first tide. And I won’t be back… ever, if I have any choice in the matter.”

That was a tight schedule. Take a life-changing decision in less than a day while trying to find a way to talk to your estranged sister. No, I hadn’t forgotten about her.

“Well, I guess it’s simple, Suage. If I’m not there tomorrow morning, that’s because I refused your offer,” I said, trying to sound nonchalant.

“All right, but promise me that you will think about it.”

“I will.”

“Good. Just in case you accept it, I booked passage aboard the Belenda. It’s a small merchant vessel that’s going to Tressias, in Lemandi. The first tide will be at sunrise. Don’t be late!”

We talked some more and had lunch together. After the meal, we parted company.

My mind was racing. As I made my way back home, I furiously thought about what had happened that morning and how I could weave my way through this incredibly complex tapestry. Oh yeah, my training was so pervasive that I started thinking in terms of weaves.

By the time I reached my house, I already knew what I was going to do. I felt nervous. My prediction had come true. I was going to do something extremely imprudent, even stupid. And I could die as a result, but at least now I might have a way out.

Two years later, the second major event of my life happened.

We were all at home one spring afternoon. Mother and Asli were cooking and I was helping Father with a couch, when we heard a knock on the door. Mom opened it and by her reaction, I knew that something important was going on. She moved aside and into our house they came… the Spinners. There were three of them: two young ones, dressed in the traditional grey-hooded cloak and long tunic of the Sisterhood, and an older one, in a similar outfit, but black instead of grey.

The older Spinner looked around our home intently, as if searching for something. She stared at me and, at that moment, I was certain she had come for me. The Spinners had found out I was a Weaver-in-training and had come to kill me. I felt cold. Sweat covered my palms and my heart seemed like it was going to explode. But her gaze moved on… to Asli. She walked towards her and took her arm abruptly, urgently. Rolling up Asli’s sleeve in a forceful manner, she checked the inside of her elbow. There it was, for all of us to see, the hourglass mark.

“Mother Spider has chosen your daughter. It is a great honor that she bestows upon your family, but she also knows that this young woman helps you in the day-to-day chores. Because of that, you will receive ten pieces of gold as compensation,” she said in a voice as cold as ice.

My mother started crying and my father held her. Asli seemed confused. Being a Spinner was no doubt a great honor, but it also meant that she wouldn’t be seeing us again. I was still riding on the relief I felt for not being the one the Spinners had come for. In fact, I would only realize how I missed my sister years later.

Everything was over so fast that the whole thing seemed like a dream. I never forgot that spring afternoon when Asli left our home and our lives. Just before she walked out the door, she smiled, but her eyes were full of sadness…

***

Another two years and another major event, at least to me.

It was late at night and I was practicing some simple spells, when I heard a knock at my window. At that hour, it could only be one person. I opened the shutters and, as I had predicted, found Suage standing outside. He had a rather strange look on his face, but that wasn’t uncommon with Suage.

“Come in,” I said.

“No, Troi, I just came to say goodbye.”

“What?!” I was shocked.

“I’m leaving Gazdra. I finally realized there’s nothing here for me.”

“What?!” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.

“If I stay here, I’ll just get bitter. Eventually, I’ll become my father.” Suage hated his father and all that he represented: poverty, drunkenness, hatred, abuse.

“But you are only fourteen years old… and you’ve never been outside Gazdra… I mean… there’s a big world out there and it’s not a kind one…” I tried to come up with reasons why he shouldn’t leave, but I couldn’t think straight, the prospect of loosing my best friend was too daunting.

“I’m not totally naive, Troi. I have been hanging around the harbor since I was six, I always talk to sailors and mercenaries that come by and I try to get as much information about other places as I can. I’ll be fine. Certainly, I’ll be better out there than here in Gazdra.

“Anyway, there’s nothing you can say, Troi, that can make me stay.”

At that moment, I knew that I would have to go through the rest of my teenage years – possibly my life — without the benefit of a true friend. It was a bleak perspective, since Suage wasn’t just my best friend, I considered him my only friend. I trusted him implicitly. He was the only one who knew about the tapestry and my Weaver training. All that made it hard for me to accept his leaving. But I realized that, as his best friend, I had to respect his decision.

“Take care then,” I said, holding back the tears, and hugged him.

“I will,” he answered, returning my hug. “We’ll meet again, Troi. You’ll be a famous… Weaver… doing your… stuff and I’ll be a great warrior.”

I smiled. He picked up his backpack, with the ever-present rusty dagger and walked away.

Two big personal losses in two years. I started getting wary of the future.

The first of these events happened when I was ten years old. I have already told you that my best friend was Suage, the blacksmith’s son. He was a strong boy with unruly blond hair and grayish blue eyes. He also had a great dislike for authority of any kind and usually had bitter fights with his father. I would like to say that Suage was a bit slow, compared to me, but he was no dimwit. In fact, he had a very quick and pragmatic mind, whereas I had a very active imagination. Suage’s greatest dream was to become a mercenary, travelling through the world and fighting in wars he couldn’t care less about.

Knowing this, one day I proposed to him that we should go out in an exploratory expedition. There was a neighborhood on the outskirts of the city that became quite deserted as Gazdra grew. People called it Wind Quarter, because only the wind seemed to live there for any extended period. It was at that time nothing more than a collection of abandoned old houses and buildings. At night, people would avoid crossing the area for it became the refuge of thieves and cutthroats, and, sometimes, stranger things. A perfect place for daylight exploration. Suage, of course, loved the idea and agreed to it immediately.

So, one day, we woke up early in the morning, packed some cheese, bread and a jug of citrina juice and went off to Wind Quarter. Suage also brought an old and rusty dagger he found in his father’s storeroom. Although I thought it was neat, I didn’t think it would be much of a protection. We made our way through the busy Central Marketplace going north on Main Avenue. Then we took a left at Guild Square and went up the Silk Boulevard. It was a hot summer day, with no clouds in the sky. It took us almost one hour to get to Wind Quarter and by the time we got there, we had already drunk half of our citrina juice.

There was no mistaking we had reached our destination. We stood alone on the narrow street. To both our sides, neglected buildings and dilapidated houses lined the sidewalk. The loud merchants’ cries and street hawkers’ bargains of the Central Marketplace were now but faint whispers in the distance, the exotic scents of Guild Square and vibrant colors of teh Silk Boulevard, just faded memories. We walked around for a while, uncertain of what to do. Our plan was to get into the buildings and houses and try to find some “treasure.” But, now that we were there, every place seemed to be filled with mystery and the promise of hidden riches. We didn’t know where to start.

We walked around for a while, unable to decide what place should be explored first. The sun was beating down harshly on our heads, so I sought the cool comfort of a neaby shade. I took a swig of the citrina juice and while wiping my mouth on my sleeve noticed a line of ants marching on the ground. They seemed very intent on getting wherever they were supposed to be going, so I followed them around the corner and unexpectedly found the solution to our dillema – there it was, at the end of the ant line: the oldest, ugliest and most run down house of Wind Quarter. Compared to it, the other places looked like mansions. We made our way to that decrepit piece of forgotten habitation cautiously, because despite being excited, its appearance was a bit frightening… at least to me.

The front door was jammed, but several windows were shattered, providing a perfect means of entrance for two kids. Inside, the house looked as bad as on the outside. Most of the furniture was either gone or shattered, dust and cobwebs covered everything and the floor creaked horribly with every step we took. Despite all this, or maybe because of it, we proceeded ever more eager. I guess that took away some of my previous caution and I didn’t notice when, with my sixth step, the floor creaked differently. A second later, it collapsed and I plummeted to the basement, eight feet below.

“You okay, Troi?” Suage asked, obviously worried, but trying not to look so.

“I guess so,” I answered. I was lucky. Aside from several bruises in my legs and a bump in my head, I was fine.

After a few minutes, Suage managed to use a rather rotten curtain as a makeshift rope. The original idea was for me to come up, but while he was searching for a way to get me out of there I found a chest. We wouldn’t be able to haul it up to the first floor, so Suage decided to come down and help me open it. The chest looked as forgotten as the house itself, but the lock was strong. It took Suage almost half an hour to pick it open. I remember thinking that that was quite a handy skill to learn and concluding that there were advantages to being the son of a blacksmith.

Finally, we opened the chest and found…

“A tapestry!” we both exclaimed, my voice filled with excitement, Suage’s filled with disappointment. I guess there are some advantages to being the son of an upholsterer.

“Damn! I don’t believe I spent all that time working on the lock so we could find a bloody rug. Of all the stupid, useless…” Suage ranted on.

I wasn’t really hearing him, the tapestry had me mesmerized. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever saw: seven feet long by four feet wide, made of a red, heavy, strong fabric I hadn’t seen before. Most of its surface was covered by exquisite, colorful embroidery that seemed to tell the story of a man. The handcraft alone would get me to stare at it for hours, but there was something else, I sort of heard this distant voice in my head. The more I looked at the tapestry, the louder it got. Although I wanted to know what the voice was saying, the strangeness of the situation frightened me. I blinked and the voice was gone. I was back in the real world.

“… can’t anything work out right? It’s the story of my life!” Suage was on a roll.

We tried to explore the house a little more, but my bruises, coupled with Suage’s disappointment, forced us to cut our exploratory trip short.

That night, at my room, I couldn’t help but spread the tapestry open on the floor and gaze at it intently. However, this time, I decided to focus on the first scene of the embroidery. It somehow seemed the right thing to do. I heard the voice again, but now I stood my ground. It grew louder and louder until I could make out the words.

“Greetings, young Weaver. My name is Bejim and this is my story.”

From that night on, my life changed. Through Bejim’s Life Tapestry, as he called it, I learned about the Weavers, ancient human magic-users that existed before the Insect Gods. Instructed in the use of magic by one of the old human gods, they cast it by weaving mystical patterns with threads. With the coming of the Many-Legged Ones and the subsequent fall of the human gods, the Weavers went into secrecy. Their numbers dwindled until they became but a handful. Mother Spider struck the final blow. She regarded the Weavers as a potential threat and had them eliminated. Disconnected from their gods for a thousand years and being few in numbers, the Weavers succumbed to the onslaught of Mother Spider’s followers.

Bejim had been the last one, but before being captured he finished his Life Tapestry before. It was a special tapestry the Weavers made that represented their lives. The images in the embroidery depicted events of great importance in that magic-user’s life. But the tapestry was also given mystical properties so as to tell their story to anyone gazing at them. Usually, anyone would be able to read it. However, Bejim knew that his killers would destroy everything they thought was connected to the Weavers, so he made his tapestry look like an ordinary one, its powers only to activate in the presence of another magic-user. Realizing that it might take hundreds of years for another one of them to be born, Bejim decided to include the story and knowledge of the order in his tapestry. That way, the new Weaver would be able to learn the craft even if he was the only one alive.

And so my training began.

Here are some doodles of the new Star Trax cast.

Peace out!

How should I start? Hmm, I guess the beginning is as good a place as any.

My name is Troi. I’m a Weaver. No, not a weaver, a Weaver. I Weave magic. But I’m getting ahead of myself. I was born in a lower middle class family in the great city of Gazdra. My father was an upholsterer and my mother a housewife. I also had an older sister by the name of Asli. My best friend was a blacksmith’s son, Suage. Despite not having much money, we did fine. My parents always made sure that Asli and I had food, clothes and education. In short, we were happy.

Now, I should talk a little about where we lived. Gazdra was the biggest city in the southern part of Daria, the northern continent, in the so-called Shining Coast. It prospered as a trading city because of three reasons. First, the main river of the continent finished its long and winding course at our shores. Second, we were located at the southernmost point of Daria, which made us the first and most logical stop on the trade routes to and from Lemandi, the southern landmass. Finally, the third and perhaps most important reason for our continued progress: our patron goddess wasn’t one of the Insect Gods.

Early in our history, three thousands years ago, we were already worshiping the Insect Gods. Beetle of the Booming Voice, Lone Hunter Mantis, Cockroach the Ubiquitous and a handful of others. There are legends of older gods that looked like us, humans, and existed before the Many-Legged Ones, but nobody believes them. The pantheon divided the world and claimed certain tribes as their worshippers. Then, two thousand years ago, she arrived. Mother Spider. The other gods were angry at her and the people knew that she was different: she had eight legs, instead of the sacred six. She tried to gain worshippers, but everywhere she went, they rejected her. Everywhere except in the plains where Gazdra would come into existence. At that time, the area was controlled by a group of nomad tribes that had been forced there by the more advanced societies to the north. They followed no god, nor did they want to, but Mother Spider promised them glory and power in exchange for their adoration.

And so the pact was sealed. The other gods tried to banish the Mother by waging war against Her human followers. But Mother had taught Her people well and they succeeded in battle as well as in trade. Mother Spider also chose special women and taught them the power of Web Magic. Whereas the other gods only allowed their worshippers to use incidental magic, Mother Spider instructed Hers in the active use of it. Eventually, the gods and Mother Spider came to a truce — a very unstable one, true, but one that has lasted for fifteen centuries.

Of course, there were some disadvantages to this arrangement. As our temporal power grew, so did the power of the Sisterhood of the Spinners, Mother Spider’s priestesses. Members of the Sisterhood were identified by a mystical hourglass-shaped mark that appeared on the inside of the elbow of the left arm during puberty. Then, they were taken to the Sisterhood’s monastery and taught in the ways of Mother Spider, which included training in the art of Web Magic. The Sisters functioned as a religious caste, police force, warrior order and “consultant” body in government affair. As a result, Mother Spider’s presence hung over us as a somewhat oppressive part of our lives. One could even say a “fearful” part, for rebels were unknown, they usually disappeared after they voiced their disagreements for the first time.

But I didn’t know that as a boy. I thought that life was pretty much fine. However, four events would send my life into an unexpected course.

One of my favorite internet cartoons is Garfield Minus Garfield, which you had to have heard of by now. If you somehow havent’, and if the title doesn’t explain itself, then…

“Garfield Minus Garfield is a site dedicated to removing Garfield from the Garfield comic strips in order to reveal the existential angst of a certain Mr. Jon Arbuckle. It is a journey deep into the mind of an isolated young everyman as he fights a losing battle against loneliness and depression in a quite American suburb.” That’s how the site describes him, and it’s a brilliant study, or alternate take on a beloved classic.

I’m not against the idea of remixes or mash ups or anything like that in theory. Sometimes they’re good. Sometimes they’re brilliant. Sometimes they’re smelly fountains of crap. But I feel that sometimes – and the keyword here is obviously sometimes – they can be an amazingly interesting new form of exploring art. A new art of their own.

Recently I discovered the works of two guys named Jan Van den Hemel and Andrew Hussie who’ve done some work re-editing and creating something new out of old episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation. By basically taking bits of pieces from throughout the show and remixing them into something new, they’ve created a kind of hilarious and filthy new thing. It’s the Sealab 2021 or The Grey Album treatment and it’s… just perfect. The episodes are short, most just over a minute but none longer than four minutes, and there’s about 25 or so of them now. If you watch them all, there’s kind of a contuing story, when the edit series cares about it, but usually, it doesn’t. Here’s just a few of my favorites to brighten your day, starting with episode 9, “A Fistful Of Explosions.”

And then episode 10, “It’s Not Lupus.”

And episode 12, “Bridge Buffoonery.”

And last, but not least, of what I’d like to share with you, episode 15, “That Jean-Luc Picard.” I hope you enjoy and if you need more of a chuckle, I’d check the edits’ creator’s websites or their youtube page for more of the videos.

Check out The Original Series and Next Generation Star Trek costume ideas for couples!

kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam
behisabi mon rakheni hisab, ki diyechhi ki je pelam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam

bhalobasa achhe kobitai
asha sudhu ache nirashai
bhalobasa achhe kobitai
asha sudhu ache nirashai
khushite je, ei hriday, ki je elam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul,
jibon joyare here gelam

ami je nei amate, sobai ache e prithibite
ami je nei amate, sobai ache e prithibite
aalo bhebe andhar apon kore je nilam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam
behisabi mon rakheni hisab, ki diyechhi ki je pelam
kobe je kothai ki je holo bhul, jibon joyare here gelam

According to ancestry.com, your great, great, great, great, great grandfather was actually an alligator.

(Michael Dorn, Marina Sirtis)

picture: dunno source, via our lol builder. lol caption: ImWoodChuck

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I’ve just heard that the ‘first lady’ of Star Trek, Majel Barrett Roddenberry – married to creator Gene Roddenberry and who also played multiple characters including Nurse Chapel (TOS), Lwaxana Troi (TNG, DS9) and the computer voice in every Trek incarnation has died.

She was a great actress who will be sorely missed.  She was doing all the computer voices for the new JJ Abrams Trek movie – I’ve no idea whether her work on it was complete though.  However given that the film has been delayed in order to spread big releases out post-writers strike I think it’s likely that she had though.

-Scott

Nurse Chapel

I’ve been reading professionally since 2000. I started off reading for the two American Tarot Association networks, the Free Reading Network and the Free Tarot Network, and also for World Tarot Readers. When the ATA ran into trouble, I helped found the Tarot Association of the British Isles (TABI), contributing towards funding their first baby website, serving on the committee, setting up the basic training course and teaching on the course for a while. Eventually, I ran out of time and decided to just focus on readings, both in-person and via my own website.

Have often been tempted to set up a course of my own but, again, time constraints have prevented me from exploring that any further.

The name I use for my tarot ‘doings’ is Troi – it is a Welsh verb meaning to ’till the soil’ and not really anything to do with Star Trek. I have three kids, 26, 10 & 7 and loads of life experience, which helps me with my readings. I am also very down-to-earth and, am afraid, have no time for fairies, dragons, ‘ladies’ and suchlike, though will admit to being a sucker for a pretty picture. My signature cards are the Queen of Pentacles, the Page of Pentacles and the Hermit. Being a Capricorn, I have a penchent for practical advice and earthly matters. I don’t like labels but I suppose I would call myself a ‘comfortable pagan’.

So that’s me, now tell me about you.

I’ve decided to take down my website and move to this new home. The old site was clumsy and amateurish so it is time for a change. I think a nice simple blog will do me just fine. At the moment I have no idea what I will be doing here. I will post the free readings I do – so if you request a free one-card reading, then it will be on the condition that I will publish it on this blog. All personal details will be removed of course. I would love to receive comments and insights on these.

Perhaps I will draw a card a day but don’t bank on it – life tends to get in the way of all my good intentions. I’ll try and keep an eye on new decks popping into the universe and post the occasional review. Some of the old material from my site may be transferred over too – keep an eye on the sidebar for interesting links and various articles.

In the meantime, if you want a one-card reading, then please get in touch. You can reach me at troi@tarot.fsworld.co.uk . Please put ‘tarot reading’ in the subject line of your email just in case my spam filter gets over-enthusiastic.

DS9 was the babe fest of Star Trek. The big difference was the amount of ‘passing trade’ that filtered through the space station on their way to through the wormhole and thankfully the locals were similar enough to humans to look exotic but also reassuringly familiar…

But let us go through the babes. First, there was the feisty Major Kira who exploded onto our screens in a minx like leotard and stuck it through right until the end. From being an uptight occupation lady, she became a warm and sensual lover, but then, she was with a shape shifter, and he can be shape or size he wants…

Then there were the two DAX’s. First Jadzia. Woohoo! How could an Old Man turn out to be so alluring? And with seven or eight lifetimes of experience, you knew why she made Worf happy. We were heart broken when Jadzia died, but never mind. She was reborn as Ezri, cute, nuts and cute.

But for me, the babe of the space station was one of the ‘guests’. The one and only Leeta!

Now, there were many obvious reasons why Leeta was top billing. After all, this was the definition of hot alien babe, the reason why geeks like me watched TV. She was a Dabbo Girl which meant she had to be pretty as well as mathematically smart. She was not afraid of a skimpy towel and most importantly, she got hitched to the ugliest guy in space. If a babe like that could get with a guy like Rom, there was hope for all of us!

But one of the things I loved about Leeta, is that she was the original ‘Happy Ever After’. Most women in Sci Fi are portrayed as hard nosed and evil do-gooders, or nymphomaniacs who get slaughtered for their promiscuity. However Leeta got her guy(s), survived the war and eventually went on to rule a planet. Where else could man boldly go…

A generation after the original series, a New Generation of Star Fleet officers took to the screen in order to go where ‘no one’ had gone before. And no where was this personified more so than on the futuristic bridge where next to the captain sat the beautiful Deanna Troi. Suddenly coming home from school on a Tuesday was something I rushed to do; to catch a glimpse of her in that little green dress (or if the telly decided to forego the watershed, not much). Uhura was the babe of the 60’s, but Troi was the babe from my own adolescent years. And she was far more skimpy than anything since – the last vestiges of the hippie era managed to slip in before political correctness took a turn.

But hey, what was the best thing about Troi? It was her empathic abilities. There would be no beating around the bush (excuse the pun) with her. She knew what you felt straight away, so either you took a leap or you did not. And hey, being an empath, there would be less arguments, she knew what would be bugging you. The only thing is that you had to be careful of her, she had a temper! And man, she was an alien! Well, half Betazoid, so there were exotic holidays, funky diets and of course strange and bizarre rituals. Hey, this was the reason why man wanted to traverse the skies. To seek out new, exotic life forms, and nail them. Deanna Troi personified this beautifully. A stunning alien but with an anatomy that would not confuse the average man. And hey, she had that bit of funky ‘alieness’ that made her that little bit alluring. If I was boldly going where no man had gone before, I was probably a bit late if and when I reached The Counselor, but it would sure be worth the journey…

Oh and the Caution Wet Paint Blog contains a state secret…

Oh, and click click this link to see how much of a trek geek I actually am…