Say No More, Zo'or

Post to archives in encouraged as long as my name and title stay with the story.

Author's Note: Beware of spoilers. This story is set between the episodes "Atavus" and "A Stitch in Time." You should read my previous stories, "Hostage - Parts 1 through 4," "Ma'el: Thinker, Dreamer, Achiever," "If You Think You Know The Taelons...," "Oh, Baby!," "Adventures in Taelon-Sitting," "Last Dance," and "Girls' Night Out" before reading "Say No More, Zo'or."

Please feel free to use any of my characters for your own fanfictions, but keep their name and status quo as is in "Say No More, Zo'or," and please tell me so I can read your story. For the purposes of this story, the characters of Tu'um, La'an, and Pu'ur will each be referred to as "she."

Summary: After discovering that Zo’or has been experimenting on and implanting human children against their will, La’an decides to take matters into her own hands and teach Zo’or a thing or two about what it feels like to be helpless. Together with Tu’um, La’an orders the entire Commonality to help her carry out her lesson for Zo’or.

 Special thanks goes to Tabakat for allowing me to use her characters of La’an, Agent Steve Anderson, and Daniel in this story, and to Cal Heighton for letting me use his character of Mu’an in this story. Brown Unicorn (aka Browny) should also be credited as having created the character of Ja’an who is mentioned in this story. These characters can be found in more of Browny’s, Tabakat’s, and Cal’s stories. Please ask permission from these authors before using their characters in your stories.

 All of my stories take place in an EFC universe that is basically similar to that of the actual series, but with a lot of my own characters and ideas blended into it. For this reason, please remember that my story arcs and plots will not always be completely accurate with those of the other fanfiction authors whose characters I sometimes use in my own fanfiction, or of the actual series.
 
 

    * * *

     “No!!! Stay away from me!!” screeched a little boy of only five-years-old.
    “Be quiet, you human imp!” Zo’or thundered at the child.
    The little boy was strapped to an operating table. Zo’or and a Taelon scientist, Or’rel, were hovering over him. They were in a facility on the Taelon moonbase where Zo’or was showing Or’rel around. Or’rel had been summoned from the Planet Taelon to work alternating shifts on the mothership and at the moonbase.
    Another Taelon surgeon, Pu’ur, was tending to the human boy. She removed an object from a virtual glass test tube. The object that Pu’ur had removed was a special type of skrill that resembled a tarantula in both size and shape. Pu’ur had already performed the procedure where she’d implanted the boy with a CVI. Now it was time for her to give him his skrill.
    Screams rang out from the boy’s mouth as Pu’ur placed the skrill on his forehead. The “spider-skrill” dug into the child’s skin and attached itself to him.
    Pu’ur gave the boy a mild sedative to make him unconscious. She stared at him apathetically.
    Zo’or turned to Or’rel. “The way I see it, the younger we implant humans the better we’ll be able to train them as warriors. Don’t you agree?”
    Or’rel blinked with uncertainty as the Synod speaker expectantly waited for an answer.
    “Well,” sighed Or’rel, “I have mainly gained experience implanting adult humans in the past. When I was trained on the mothership, we were only allowed to implant human specimens which were fully grown. This specimen,” Or’rel gestured to the implanted child, “is not yet mature.”
    “It is time for a change,” Zo’or stated simply. “Those were Quo’on’s orders. I, however, not only encourage the implantation of human children, but insist upon it!”
    Or’rel frowned. “It is my scientific opinion that we are not prepared for this drastic of a measure so soon. We have not even learned the potential long-term repercussions of our already-existent human implants.”
    “Time is of the essence!” Zo’or growled. “Or hadn’t you noticed that our time is running out?”
    The Companion scientist said nothing, and Zo’or smirked. “That is what I thought.”
    Zo’or, Pu’ur, and Or’rel watched as an implant carried the young boy from the operating table into a glass cage, and locked the child inside. The Taelons observed as the boy’s eyes suddenly popped open. He gritted his teeth, as fire ignited and blazed in his eyes. The child, grinding his shoe heel against the floor, spontaneously charged forward. He began pounding against the walls of the cage, grunting primitive growls of ignorance and fury.
    “I believe this particular skrill needs to be re-engineered,” commented Pu’ur.
    As the boy became more violent, Or’rel looked increasingly apprehensive.
    “Zo’or, let us end this series of experiments at once!” begged Or’rel.
    “No!” refused Zo’or. “These experiments shall continue!”
    After an hour, the boy had perished from exhaustion and self-infliction. There he lay, lifeless on the ground. He was dead.
    “Fetch me another child!” Zo’or ordered, as the implant removed the boy’s corpse from the glass cage. “Pu’ur, prepare the next CVI!”
    “I still contend that we should limit our testing to human adults, rather than human children,” repeated Or’rel.
    “It does not matter what you think!” Zo’or dismissed him. “I am giving the orders, and I say that we will continue to use children! We need young, disposable subjects to perfect our new series of implantations.”
    Or’rel nodded meekly, and excused himself from the room. There was no use in arguing with Zo’or anymore. He went into the corridor outside the operating room and dialed some coordinates on his global.
    “Only one Taelon who I know of can help me now,” Or’rel whispered.

    * * *

     La’an, the Companion to Earth’s youth and artists, as well as Second speaker of the Synod, was resting in her energy stream. Her implant, Agent Steve Anderson, had received the call from Or’rel.
    “Sorry to interrupt, La’an,” Anderson called to his Companion, “but Or’rel is waiting on your global. He says it is urgent.”
    “That is quite fine, Anderson,” replied La’an, emerging from her state of rest. La’an brought down the data stream monitor in front of her, and Or’rel’s face appeared.
    “Yes, Or’rel? How may I help you?”
    “La’an, we have a dire dilemma. It involves Zo’or and his experimentation on the moonbase.”
    La’an rolled her eyes. Wasn’t it always Zo’or? That Taelon still had a thing or two to learn about working with humanity.
    “You are one of my only friends from back on our Planet Taelon,” Or’rel continued. “I feel I can trust you.”
    “Of course you can,” La’an replied. “What is Zo’or doing this time?”
    “He is implanting skrills on the foreheads of human children.”
    No sooner had those words left Or’rel’s mouth than La’an wore an infuriated glare of anger on her face. If there was one thing that La’an could not tolerate, it was the mistreatment of children - - human or Taelon.
    “How dare Zo’or even think of doing this!” she exclaimed, exasperated. “I am not going to let him get away with it! This must stop!”
    “I agree,” verified Or’rel. He looked genuinely sympathetic. “The implantation of children is a terribly misguided endeavor. I see no benefit in it at this point in time.”
    “It is unacceptable always!” emphasized La’an. “I have never supported the Synod’s decision to require an MI in the CVIs of implants! And now they are forcing skrills on children?! They are crazy!” She looked at Or’rel’s image through the data stream monitor. “Thank you, Or’rel, for bringing this to my attention.”
    Or’rel bid La’an a farewell gesture as his projectile faded out. La’an then dialed the coordinates of her confidant, Da’an.
    Da’an’s face soon became visible on La’an’s data stream monitor. His kind, compassionate face gazed at La’an’s eyes as Da’an tilted his head.
    “Yes, La’an?” he said.
    “Da’an, we have a big problem,” complained La’an. “It is Zo’or. He is implanting children with the forehead skrills.”
    “I would not put it past him,” Da’an lamented, not seeming surprised to hear of this.
    “We need a plan. What should we do?” La’an asked. “Any ideas?”
    “I regret to say this, La’an, but I am at a loss as to how we can stop Zo’or. He is the Synod speaker. If we speak out against him to any greater extent than we already have, it may only push his horrible actions further.”
    “Well I am Second speaker and it is my responsibility to keep Zo’or in his place if he gets out of line,” voiced La’an. “And he is definitely out of line.”
    Da’an sighed. “I do not know what to do. My heart goes out to those children, and I will continue to lobby the Synod against it. But I am reluctant to make this a personal attack on Zo’or.”
    “Well, I’m not,” La’an declared. “He has it coming. I think it’s time to teach Zo’or a lesson.”
    “I apologize. I cannot be of further assistance.”
    “Thank you for your time and thought, Da’an. I understand you position with Zo’or.” La’an knew that there was bad blood, tension, and hostility between Da’an and Zo’or.
    Da’an cut the link. La’an sympathized with Da’an and didn’t want to push him into helping her punish Zo’or if he didn’t feel comfortable with it. However, La’an knew someone who she was positive would be more than willing to help her carry out her revenge against Zo’or.
    “Anderson,” ordered La’an, “dial up the Taelon embassy in Bombay, India.”

    * * *

     “I am pleased to be here.”
    “Welcome, Tu’um,” La’an greeted the Indian Companion, inviting her into her embassy in Canada.
    Agent Haji Jagdamba, Tu’um’s attaché, nodded at Agent Anderson and bowed to La’an out of courtesy.
    “Please, Agent Jagdamba, no bowing,” insisted La’an. “I am not one for formalities.”
    “As you wish, La’an,” the implant responded.
    “La’an, you have a lovely office,” commented Tu’um, admiring the embassy.
    “Thank you, Tu’um. Yours is nice too.” La’an had stayed with Tu’um at one of Tu’um’s embassies when she was in India for an artist fair. “Come. We have much to talk about.”
    La’an led the group to her personal conference wing of the embassy. It was a nice-looking room with comfortable chairs for humans and a bunch of data streams for Taelons to sit in.
    “Anderson. Jagdamba. Please wait outside so Tu’um and I can speak alone,” La’an instructed the implants. “Don’t let anyone in unless it’s one of the children or another Taelon who I gave clearance to.” She looked right at Anderson. Anderson had a list of the Companions whom La’an had approved could have access to the embassy at will, in other words, Taelons whom La’an trusted.
    The implants did as they were told.
    “Do you feel like using the energy streams?” La’an offered to Tu’um.
    “Not right now. Maybe later.” Tu’um gestured to a couple of La’an’s soft armchairs. “Shall we be seated?”
    Tu’um and La’an sat. “I noticed you brought your darling granddaughter with earlier today,” observed La’an. Tu’um had brought along her visiting granddaughter, Nu’um, to La’an’s embassy, and La’an had said that Nu’um could go play with the other human and Taelon children who stayed in her embassy.
    “Yes, Mata escorted Nu’um to the children’s wing so that she can watch over Nu’um while Nu’um plays with the other children,” replied Tu’um.
    “Let me tell you about what Zo’or has done,” sighed La’an, rolling her eyes. La’an then filled Tu’um in on the specific details that Or’rel had told her about Zo’or’s experiments on children.
    “That is terrible!” exclaimed Tu’um, when La’an had finished telling her about the horrid experiments. “Zo’or has absolutely no right to do that!”
    “My thoughts exactly,” La’an conveyed. “Tu’um, will you please help me give Zo’or his comeuppance for this. I’m hoping if we do something to Zo’or that has a big enough impact on him, he might stop mistreating children.”
    “Of course I will,” said Tu’um. “He deserves it!”
    Just then, a little human boy ran into La’an’s office. “Hi, La’an!” the boy greeted his Companion. He looked at Tu’um. “Pleased to meet you!” The boy spoke in French.
    “Why, pleased to meet you too, young man,” Tu’um smiled, speaking back to the boy in French.
    The boy turned to La’an. “May I take some paints and watercolors to bring back to the other children?”
    “Of course you may, Daniel,” replied La’an.
    Daniel hurried over to La’an’s audience chamber cabinet that was filled with art supplies. He removed some paints and brushes and canvases from the cabinet and carried them under his arm.
    “My name is Daniel,” the boy told Tu’um in French. “What is your name?”
    “I am Tu’um, the Companion to India,” Tu’um spoke back to him in French.
    “How did you learn to speak French so well?”
    “Some of us Taelons chose to learn many languages of Earth,” smiled Tu’um. “And French is such a beautiful dialect.”
    Daniel beamed. “La’an told me about India. She said she went there to visit you. I asked her if I could go and La’an told me that my parents would have to say yes first and I would probably want them to come with.”
    “Now Danny,” La’an spoke up, “this isn’t something that we should bother Tu’um about just yet.”
    Daniel nodded, but Tu’um grinned at him. “Well, I would love to have you be my guest at one of my embassies in India. You parents too. And if it’s all right with La’an and your parents, you and them can all come visit me any time you wish. I would love for you to stay with me.”
    La’an smiled warmly at Tu’um, that the Indian Companion shared her love for kids. Daniel threw his arms around La’an and gave her a big hug. Then he gave Tu’um a hug, as well.
    “Thank you,” he whispered to La’an and Tu’um.
    “Run along now, Danny,” encouraged La’an gently. “The other children will be waiting for the paints.”
    Daniel scampered out of the room.
    “He is such a sweetie,” Tu’um remarked, glowing.
    “Yes, Daniel is a sweet kid,” agreed La’an. “I like him very much. A whole wing of my embassy is reserved for the children to play in.”
    “Think if it was Daniel as a victim of one of Zo’or’s nasty experiments,” thought Tu’um out loud in horror.
    “Oh, I don’t even want to think about what I would do to Zo’or,” frowned La’an, “if he used Danny or any of my children as his guinea pig!” She digested that thought. “I have a plan of sorts, but I need you to help me polish it and make it successful.”
    La’an and Tu’um began discussing their objective.

    * * *

     “How can she do this? Is it even possible?” Liam Kincaid scratched his head in confusion.
    “Yes, Liam.” Lili rolled her eyes a little impatiently. “La’an is organizing a temporary strike against Zo’or throughout the entire Commonality. Complete solitude.”
    Still, Liam wasn’t convinced that this plan of La’an and Tu’um’s would work. “Won’t Le’er or Ba’ad or other like-minded Taelons even be able to communicate with Zo’or?”
    “Not for the duration of the strike.” Lili patted Major Kincaid on the arm. “Trust me, La’an knows what she is doing. She holds a lot of clout with the Taelons, even if she can’t persuade them to agree with her 100% of the time.”
    “I hope it works,” Liam said warily, as he and Lili strolled into Da’an’s audience chamber.
    “Captain Marquette,” Da’an spoke out, slowly rotating his head toward Liam and Lili, “Ja’an wishes to see you. He is resting in his quarters.”
    “Yes, Da’an,” Lili confirmed. She headed toward Ja’an’s room.
    “Major Kincaid, would you care to join me for a game of Foovlashaa?” asked Da’an.
    “Sure,” replied Liam.
    He joined Da’an in front of the Foovlashaa set-up. As they played, Da’an glanced sideways at Liam.
    “I presume that you and Captain Marquette are involved with the plan against Zo’or spearheaded by La’an and Tu’um?” Da’an inconspicuously interrogated his protector.
    “Yeah, Lili filled me in,” Liam non-chalantly verified, not taking his eyes off of Foovlashaa. “How do you know about it, anyway? You don’t seem too particularly eager to trap Zo’or?”
    “I’m not,” consented Da’an. “La’an asked me if I would participate, but I declined. It seemed only logical that she would ask Tu’um next, and that Tu’um would accept. The two of them are like-minded in their disdain for Zo’or, among other things.”
    “You are an intelligent being,” Liam complimented his Companion.
    “Major, I urge you not to get involved with this,” Da’an cautioned Liam. “Zo’or is not a force to be reckoned with. You don’t want him as an enemy.”
    “Obviously, La’an and Tu’um feel differently,” quipped Major Kincaid.
    “I do not wish to see you get hurt,” Da’an stressed.
    “Ha! I win!” whooped Liam, throwing his arms into the air. He had defeated Da’an in their game of Foovlashaa.
    “You are a natural,” proclaimed Da’an. “But please give thought to what I’ve said.”
    “Don’t worry,” Liam encouraged. “This isn’t my fight . . . yet.”
    Da’an sighed.
    At that moment, Lili returned from her visit with Ja’an. No sooner had she arrived back in the audience chamber than her global beeped.
    “Go!” Lili called into her global.
    “Captain Marquette,” Sandoval’s voice ordered to her, “report to the mothership. Zo’or’s office. On the double!” He cut the link.
    “Oh, great!” groaned Lili, putting her global away. “La’an wanted me in Egypt to assist with the first stage of her and Tu’um’s plan.”
    But Lili knew that she had to do what Sandoval told her to do.
    “Don’t worry,” Liam assured her. “I’ll go in your place. You can join us later.”
    “Great,” said Lili.
    “Remember what I said . . .” Da’an reminded Liam.
    But Liam and Lili were already out the door.

    * * *

     “I will see you soon, Zo’or,” Pha’ra spoke through his data stream monitor. The Egyptian Companion swooped his head gracefully across the monitor, cutting the link.
    The Companion to Egypt settled back in his chair. He was waiting patiently in the audience chamber at his Cairo embassy.
    Pha’ra used to be the Companion to Western Equatorial Africa, but he had recently traded protectorates with Am’gol, the former Companion to Egypt. Now, Am’gol was the new Companion to Western Equatorial Africa, and Pha’ra was the new Companion to Egypt. They had switched locations because Am’gol had been intimidated by his neighbor to the east, Ba’ad, the Companion to Sudan. Also, La’an had wanted Pha’ra to keep an eye on Ba’ad for her, since Pha’ra was emotionally stronger than Am’gol. Mu’an, the chief Companion to Africa, had approved the swap of protectorates between Am’gol and Pha’ra.
    Suddenly, Pha’ra looked up and caught sight of Mu’an’s face in front of him on the data stream monitor.
    “Zo’or is on his way?” Mu’an inquired.
    “Yes,” replied Pha’ra, “why do you ask?”
    “Why I ask is not important,” responded Mu’an. “He is our Synod speaker. Make sure he is treated well.”
    “Of course, Mu’an,” the Companion put on a phony smile. Mu’an cut the link. “If you only knew the truth,” murmured Pha’ra, shaking his head.
    “Pardon me, Pha’ra.” His Egyptian attaché, Agent Wati Nashnush, appeared in the doorway.
    “Yes, agent?”
    “Tu’um and La’an have arrived.”
    “Very well. Send them in. And agent,” Pha’ra specified, “alert me as soon as Zo’or arrives.”
    La’an and Tu’um walked in, and Pha’ra welcomed them.
    “How has it gone?” Pha’ra asked La’an.
    “According to plan. It should all come together soon,” winked La’an, smiling.
    “Where shall we go once Zo’or arrives here?” probed Tu’um.
    Tu’um before addressing his Companion. La’an rolled her eyes at Nashnush, and Tu’um laughed light-heartedly at La’an.
    “Zo’or is here,” Nashnush told Pha’ra.
    “Take Tu’um and La’an to someplace where they can stay hidden,” Pha’ra ordered.
    Nashnush hurried La’an and Tu’um out of the room, and then came back to get Zo’or.
    “Ah, Zo’or!” exclaimed Pha’ra. “Welcome!”
    The Synod speaker stepped forward. “I am anxious to see this discovery that you claim to have made, Pha’ra. It sounds most intriguing.”
    “Oh, indeed, Zo’or,” nodded Pha’ra. “I guarantee it is something that you shall never forget as long as you live.”

    * * *

     “What is the significance of this journey?” Zo’or wanted to know.
    “I already told you, Zo’or,” repeated Pha’ra, “it is a collection of ancient Taelon ruins inside of an Egyptian pyramid. You must see it for yourself, because it is too difficult to explain in words.”
    “You could SHOW it to me through our psychic link,” Zo’or reminded him.
    “No,” responded Pha’ra. “For I have not even seen it myself. A group of anthropologists discovered it, and informed me of it at my embassy.”
    “Where are these human anthropologists now?” solicited Zo’or.
    “They will meet us inside of the pyramid,” Pha’ra sighed. “Let us proceed more rapidly. We are wasting time.”
    Accompanied by Agent Nashnush, Zo’or and Pha’ra approached a set of pyramids at a site outside of Cairo. In front of the pyramids were fertile crops, growing with elegant prosperity in the scorching hot Sahara sun.
    “If it wasn’t for us, half of Earth’s population would still be dying from starvation,” grumbled Zo’or, as he glanced at the crops which the Taelons had so benevolently helped humans to plant, grow, and maintain in the arid desert climate.
    As soon as they reached the nearest pyramid, there was Liam leaning against the pyramid wall.
    “Major Kincaid?! What are YOU doing here?!” Zo’or asked suspiciously.
    “Da’an sent me to help with the expedition,” answered Liam. “He was very excited at the notion of more ancient Taelon ruins on Earth being uncovered, similar to the remains of Ma’el at Strandhill, Ireland.”
    “And where is Da’an during this ‘exciting’ time?” challenged Zo’or.
    Liam crossed his eyes. “He had important business to attend to. Why? Were you gonna lock him inside?”
    Before Zo’or could respond, Pha’ra hastily ushered them closer to the pyramid. “Let us go inside,” Pha’ra suggested. “The human anthropologists will be waiting for us.”
    Pha’ra, Zo’or, Nashnush, and Liam crept into the dark entrance of the pyramid. They moved gradually along the corridors filled with blackness. Unbeknownst to Zo’or, Liam had sometime during their wanderings ducked out of sight, separating himself from the group. Liam had actually gone back to the pyramid entranceway.
    “The primitive human structures,” scoffed Zo’or. “Why, on Planet Taelon we had - -,”
    Zo’or suddenly noticed that Pha’ra was no longer ahead of him.
    “Where did Pha’ra go?!” boomed Zo’or, swiveling around to face Agent Nashnush.
    “Uh . . . ,” Nashnush didn’t know what to tell Zo’or, “. . . I’m sure he’s somewhere around here.” Nashnush had forgotten what he was supposed to say.
    Then Wati Nashnush saw the marker. It was his cue.
    “This is it!” Nashnush said to Zo’or. “This is the ancient tomb. Behind this boulder.”
    “Well, what are you waiting for, implant?! Take me to it!” Zo’or folded his arms and looked at Nashnush expectantly.
    Agent Nashnush pushed the boulder aside with all his might. “There!” He gestured to an opening that led into a room.
    Zo’or peered inside the chamber. All he could see was darkness. Suddenly, Agent Nashnush gave Zo’or a hard shove, pushing him forward into the room. Quickly, Nashnush moved the boulder back in place, enclosing Zo’or inside of the room. Zo’or found himself surrounded by blackness.
    “Nashnush!” demanded Zo’or. “Agent Nashnush! Where are you?!”
    There was no answer.
    “Major Kincaid! Pha’ra!” Zo’or yelled out. “Get me out of here! Now!”
    The only sounds which responded were the echoes of Zo’or’s voice, resonating off of the chamber walls.
    Zo’or began to blush blue. The soft glow of the Taelon’s body allowed him to walk around a bit.
    THUD!
    He had clunked smack into a wall. Zo’or shuddered in pain. Desperately, he reached out to the Commonality.
    There was no reply.
    Zo’or tried again. He was only surrounded by emptiness. The Synod speaker tried to contact Le’er or Ba’ad or Mu’an or any other Taelon for that matter. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t feel them there with him. It was like there was a shield preventing him from being with the Commonality, and Zo’or couldn’t break through this shield.
    He was completely helpless.
    Zo’or screamed out, hoping that someone - - anyone - - would respond. But he could not reach the minds of any of his fellow Taelons, nor could any of them reach him.
    “You ungrateful traitors!” Zo’or shouted out to the Commonality. “I am your leader! You WILL listen to me!” When he was answered with silence, Zo’or furiously glimmered blue and gray. “Why have you cut me off?! Why can I not reach you?! Please, let me back in!!”
    Zo’or was scrambling around on the floor, crying out, bumping into the hard brick-like walls. He could see nothing. Only blackness of his prison. The enclosure had eaten Zo’or up, and he could not get out.
    For the first time in his life, Zo’or was experiencing total solitude. He felt completely helpless. The Taelon had no one to confide in, no one to talk down to, no one to order around.
    He was all alone.

    * * *

     “Good job, everyone,” La’an praised her co-conspirators.
    La’an was standing in Pha’ra’s audience chamber with Tu’um, Pha’ra, Liam, Lili, Jagdamba, and Nashnush. Together with Tu’um and Pha’ra, La’an had been able to organize a strike throughout the entire Commonality where they temporarily shielded Zo’or from being part of their collective consciousness. Liam, Lili, Jagdamba, and Nashnush had each been involved with the plan in one way or another.
    Suddenly, Zo’or stormed into the audience chamber. After three hours, one of Pha’ra’s implants had finally let Zo’or out of the pyramid tomb.
    “This was your doing!” Zo’or belted out, pointing his finger accusingly at Pha’ra. “You led me to that pyramid and told your implant to imprison me there, did you not?!”
    “I cannot take all the credit,” smirked Pha’ra. “It was not me who initially concocted the idea.
    Zo’or venomously veered his head over toward La’an. “It was you!” he realized. The amused smile on La’an’s face confirmed it.
    “Yes, Zo’or,” replied La’an, calmly. “Tu’um, Pha’ra, and I organized a strike against you throughout the Commonality. That is why you could not communicate with any of your fellow Taelons.”
    “Why would you do such a thing?!” huffed Zo’or. “It was not your right to do so!”
    La’an glared at Zo’or. “It was not your right to implant human children against their will!” she scolded him. The Second speaker regained her composure. “The Synod has my support on this, Zo’or. Even they have decided to rule that there will be no more experimentation on children. Period.”
    Zo’or lost control of his human face, in rage.
    “The Synod has spoken,” chided Tu’um, grinning at Zo’or victoriously.
    “Maybe you’ll think before you act from now on, hotshot,” added Liam.
    “I doubt it,” Lili mumbled under her breath.
    The Synod speaker shot evil looks at all of them. As he glimmered blue, Zo’or hollered, “You will all be sorry that you betrayed me! Someday! - -,”
    Just then, Tu’um’s granddaughter, Nu’um, entered. Tu’um had brought her granddaughter with to Pha’ra’s embassy, and all this time Nu’um had been looked after in the other room by Tu’um’s shuttle pilot, Mata.
    “Hello, grandparent,” Nu’um greeted Tu’um. She ran over to Captain Marquette. “Hi, Lili!”
    “Hi, Nu’um!” Lili embraced Nu’um in a big hug.
    Nu’um then turned to look at Zo’or. “Zo’or, why are you having trouble with your silly face?” Nu’um inquired with over-exaggerated innocence.
    All of them laughed out loud. Zo’or shot a murderous glare at Nu’um, but she just blinked back at him angelically.
    Zo’or stormed out of the embassy just as quickly as he’d stormed in.
    La’an winked at Nu’um. “THAT was funny!” she complimented the young Taelon.
    “Thank you, La’an. Zo’or really needs to loosen up,” Nu’um grinned.
    Tu’um clutched her granddaughter’s hand maternally. At that moment, La’an kind of wished that her own grandchildren had come to visit Earth.
    “So,” Liam piped up, “anyone up for a rousing game of Foovlashaa?”
    Everyone groaned, including La’an and Pha’ra.
    “Lord, help us all,” moaned Captain Marquette, rolling her eyes.

    * * *

     Upon his brash departure from Pha’ra’s embassy, Zo’or fled to the closest refuge he could find via shuttle - - Ba’ad’s embassy in Khartoum, Sudan.
    “I do not like this one bit,” grumbled Ba’ad, after hearing Zo’or’s account of how Tu’um and La’an had turned the Synod against him. “You were doing nothing wrong, Zo’or. La’an had no right to - - as the humans would say - - ‘blackball’ you.”
    “It makes me so infuriated!” Zo’or exclaimed. “I am the Synod speaker! They show me absolutely no respect!”
    “La’an is asking for trouble,” foreshadowed Ba’ad. “She acts as though she runs our business. At least Da’an is humbled enough to back down. I think,” Ba’ad looked straight at Zo’or’s eyes, “that La’an must be eliminated.”
    “My thoughts exactly,” Zo’or grinned evilly.
    “I believe the best way to accomplish this,” stated Ba’ad, “would be through a mass assassination. We should order some of the implants to eliminate La’an, Da’an, Tu’um, Co’al, Fu’sha, and Pha’ra. They seem to be the biggest instigators of this putrid pro-humanity movement. Once we terminate them by the skrill blast, there will be hardly - - if any - - remaining Taelons who will be stubborn enough to rise up and challenge you, Zo’or.”
    “Excellent.” Zo’or envisioned what Ba’ad was describing. “I would be content enough simply to see Da’an, Tu’um, and La’an eliminated. The others would be a bonus.”
    “La’an and Tu’um will pay dearly for having terminated our project,” fumed Ba’ad. “Human children are worthless!”
    “Humans are worthless!”
    “Yes,” agreed Ba’ad. “And a few of our human-allied fellow Taelons are soon to embrace the void . . .”

    * * *

     FIN
 

Copyright 1998 by Earthboy
Gene Roddenberry's Earth: Final Conflict is property of Tribune Entertainment Company and is produced by Roddenberry/Kirshner Productions. No monetary profit is being made from this work. No infringement is intended. If you sue me, I will lock you in Pha'ra's pyramid.