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    Star Trek: Age of Unreason
    Star Trek: Age of Unreason
    Star Trek: Age of Unreason
    Ebook62 pages51 minutes

    Star Trek: Age of Unreason

    By Scott Ciencin

    3.5/5

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    About this ebook

    In the wake of the catastrophic events of Wildfire, Carol Abramowitz, Bart Faulwell, and Soloman are sent on a special mission to Vrinda, where the S.C.E. must introduce new technology to the world while avoiding getting embroiled in the political struggle between the Nasnan and the rival Tirza Sirajaldin. But first Abramowitz must participate in a ritual involving the expression of honest, naked emotion -- one that has already been botched by Martin Mansur, the previous Federation representative, who is also a rival from Abramowitz's past.
    Never particularly comfortable expressing her emotions, Abramowitz must confront her own personal difficulties, and also confront Mansur, even as Tirza Sirajaldin saboteurs threaten the project's very existence....
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPocket Books/Star Trek
    Release dateMar 18, 2003
    ISBN9780743475921
    Star Trek: Age of Unreason
    Author

    Scott Ciencin

    Scott Ciencin (1962–2014) was the bestselling author of adult and children’s fiction, with more than sixty novels. He also wrote tie-in books for Star Wars, Star Trek, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and many more.

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      Book preview

      Star Trek - Scott Ciencin

      Chapter

      1

      The world was coming to an end.

      Again.

      Farhan Tanek struggled to keep his hands from closing on the neck of the oily little man quavering before him. Tanek knew that as spiritual leader of the Varden faith, he had certain traditions to uphold, and cold-blooded murder performed without a ceremonial blade and before the first hour of dawn would be a break with ceremony, and thus looked upon unfavorably by his people. If only he could say honestly that the killing would be an act of passion, a manifestation of ultimate rage, such matters would have no bearing. But such forward thinking nullified that possibility. No, this killing would be a testament to annoyance, and for that, there were protocols.

      Tanek’s gaze drifted from his advisor to the open window of his private chamber, wondering where he had put his knife and when the sea of stars in the night sky would be replaced by the blood-red hues of dawn.

      Not soon enough, he decided, sighing inwardly and again fixing his attention on his advisor, Ezno Clyvans. The two men were alone in Tanek’s chamber, a handful of guards posted outside the heavy door. Tanek was tall and brawny, two meters in height, with a thick mane of wild auburn hair, a beard so long it had been braided into two strands tossed behind his back and tied midway down his spine, brutish features, and a plethora of rippling muscles reflecting the amber glow of hastily lit candles in each corner of the room. He wore only a strip of dark cloth hastily tied about his waist that reached to just above his knees. Even so, Tanek held himself with power and pride, his spine ramrod straight, his chin raised imperiously. In a more superstitious age, he might, quite reasonably, have been considered a god.

      Clyvans, on the other hand, might have been mistaken for a goat. Though he wore the many-colored robes of their order over his flabby form and carried the Scepter of Truth, he slouched and was constantly arranging his ill-kept, inky-black hair with pudgy, trembling fingers, trying and failing to the point of distraction to keep it from covering his forehead and obscuring his third eye.

      The third eye was simply a genetic anomaly serving no practical purpose, yet those rare beings (often only one in a generation) bearing the mutation were invariably elevated to the role of advisor as per the prophecies of the Ancients.

      Tanek had wanted, for quite some time, to see the sacred scrolls revised to eliminate that particular bit of business. Right at the moment, he was tempted to take care of the matter himself.

      And why not? If what Tanek suspected was true, the war between the followers of the One True Faith and the heathen Nasnan was about to come to pass, and with it would come global annihilation.

      If am I going to die, if we are all going to die, should it not be with every fantasy fulfilled, every heartfelt desire sated?

      He could practically taste his advisor’s blood….

      Stop your blathering, Tanek said firmly, bringing an immediate halt to his advisor’s incessant chatter. Let me see if I understand you correctly. After all, I am not highborn, I am simply a barbarian who seized his position by force of arms. I have none of your breeding, education, or culture. My mind is minuscule and unable to grasp greater concepts and greater truths, and I have all the sense of a rutting animal. Yet here I am, standing tall, while you are on your knees before me. Fate mocks us, yes?

      Tanek took cruel satisfaction in placing Clyvans in the impossible position of coming up with a response that would not entitle his superior to beat him to within an inch of his life. In point of fact, everything Tanek had said was true, or was, at least, the popularly, if silently held position of the highborn. Yet Tanek was brilliant, and knew more about his people, their needs, and the intricate inner workings of every facet of their society better than any other member of the Varden.

      Clyvans stammered

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