DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2002 by Djinn. This story is Rated PG-13.
The Way By Moonlight
by Djinn
The marine lounge seemed
unusually loud as Kerr stepped through the doors. He smiled at the marines that noticed his
arrival and moved into the crowd, looking for one person in particular. He found her at the pool table, playing
nine-ball with Captain Munro. Kerr hung
back, content to just watch her as she tried to fight back from a serious
disadvantage.
Seeming to sense his eyes on
her, Christine looked up and smiled at him.
He raised an eyebrow at the state of the table and she gave him a
sheepish grin. Munro sank the nine ball,
then asked her something. She nodded,
and as he racked the balls for a new game, she walked over to Kerr. "Howdy, Sailor."
"Classy, Chapel. And how many times do I have to tell you I'm
a marine not a sailor."
She stepped a little
closer. "I keep forgetting
that."
"You forget
nothing. Just yanking my
chain." He wanted to pull her into
his arms, but his sense of protocol stopped him. He knew that if he had, her own idea of what
was proper on the Carter would have been brought sharply to bear, manifesting
probably as an elbow in the ribs. Not
that he wasn't used to it. Christine
Chapel was a rather active sleeper with some violent tendencies when she
dreamed. Four weeks of sharing the same
bed had taught him not to try to wake her when she was dreaming, and to duck
the occasional stray punch that came his way.
"I like yanking your
chain." The words were neutral but
something in her voice added an additional meaning to that statement.
"You can make anything
sound dirty, you know that?"
She smiled and he found
himself grinning back. She was proving
to be an even more interesting woman than he had originally suspected when he
started to pursue her. Tough, smart,
compassionate, beautiful, and very sexy.
"Red alert."
His muscles tightened. "What?"
"Just testing your
theory out. Did that sound dirty?"
"You can't just say red
alert like that."
"You're right. Bad example.
How about this?" She moved a
hair closer, dropped her voice to a husky drawl. "Hailing frequencies open, sir."
He swallowed hard.
She laughed. "Uhura would kill me for that. Except that I actually sounded quite a bit
like her. She had a great voice."
"Go back to your game,
Christine. I need a drink. What's your poison tonight?"
"Trilithian Ale."
"Yum. I'll make it two." He fought his way through the marines to get
to the bar. He saw three of his marines
sitting off by themselves. They looked
glum. He ordered his drinks then wandered
over to their seating area, his mind automatically identifying them. "Corporals Callahan and Ryndwyck. Private Lawrence. Everything all right here?"
They started to rise.
"At ease. This is downtime. As in having fun not as in being down. What's the problem here?"
They made a lot of noise
about everything being fine. He noticed
though that they all had their backs to the viewscreens. Without consciously
thinking about it he ran through the personnel data he had committed to
memory. All had reported within the last
week. "First time in space,
eh?"
They all nodded.
He laughed. "I remember those days, the unbelievable
excitement of my first assignment. The
anticipation of what it would be like, what kind of adventure I was going to be
living. I wish someone had told me that
my first couple of weeks were going to be pure hell."
Ryndwyck looked up at him,
her brown eyes solemn. "Hell?"
"God yes. I was sick every damn day. Those stars going by just really got to
me. And I was convinced that the
vibrations were going to make me go insane."
"But you're still
here?" Lawrence leaned forward in
his chair. "So you must have gotten
used to it?"
"I did. One day I woke up and I was fine. There's a moment when your body kicks over
and becomes acclimated. It's different
for everybody."
Callahan pointed to his
glass. "And Shirley Temples make it
better, right?"
Kerr shook his head. Initiation rites never changed. "I think you'll find that if you lay off
the grenadine you'll feel more like your old selves."
Ryndwyck pushed her drink
away quickly. "I hate this stuff." She rose.
"I'm getting a beer, you all want?"
Two heads nodded. She made her way to the bar, careful to avoid
looking anywhere but down.
"That's the spirit. You'll be fine in no time."
Lawrence looked
apologetic. "We all requested this
assignment, sir. The chance to serve
under you, on this ship...it seemed like the chance of a lifetime. But then all we felt was sick."
"It is the chance of a
lifetime. And once you get your space
legs, you'll be better able to appreciate that." He stood up as Ryndwyck came back with the
beers. "Salud. You're marines. Don't forget that."
"Sir, no sir,"
three voices answered.
"Carry on
then." He made his way to the bar
and picked up the ales. When he got back
to the pool table, Munro was winning again.
He put the ales on the tall table behind the playing area and settled
into the matching chair to watch the game.
It was over quickly.
Munro looked at
Christine. "Sir, no offense
intended, but you're playing like shit tonight."
"No offense taken
because you're right. Guess my mind's
elsewhere." She handed her cue to a
waiting marine and took the chair across from Kerr.
"What's wrong?"
She shook her head. "Nothing really. And everything. Nako still isn't back on her feet and Spock
has practically forbidden me to see her.
We have a new mission tomorrow and no real role for medical in it, so I
guess I'm a little restless."
"We can run some
emergency drills if you want. Check on
your staff's efficiency rating."
She nodded. "I may take you up on that. I doubt we'll have much else to do. This mission will only affect
diplomatic."
"More time for us."
She smiled. "You wanna take these back to my
cabin?"
"My cabin's
closer."
"Yes, but mine has a
replicator and I don't know about you but I'm starved."
"I could go for
something tasty to eat."
She grinned wickedly.
"See, there you go
again," said Kerr.
"What? I didn't say a word." She got up and headed for the door and the
turbolift beyond. When he caught up with
her she shook her head. "Not
everything I say is an opening, you know."
"Uh huh." He waited till the lift doors closed, then
pulled her to him, kissing her hard and letting her go just before the doors
opened again on deck five. Saldusta
stepped in, her hair still wet.
"Swimming?"
"Yes,
Commander." The other woman wore
the contented expression she only seemed to have when she'd been in the
water. She had not even replaced her
humidifier torque; it hung on her wrist like an oversized bracelet letting off
no little bit of mist. Saldusta saw
Christine's eyes go to the instrument and explained, "For a while, after
swimming, I don't need it. I like not
wearing it. Makes me feel...less
different." She rubbed her
neck. "Plus it kind of hurts."
Christine stepped in and
touched the red skin gently. "It's
rubbing. You should stop at sickbay and
get some cream for that."
Saldusta shrugged. "I'll go tomorrow. Besides, doesn't pain build
character?" Her voice held an edge,
a bit of the Saldusta that had first appeared on the Carter peeked out.
"I doubt whoever made it
intended it to be that uncomfortable, Lieutenant." Christine's voice was all business as she
ignored the woman's regression into bitchiness.
Saldusta nodded. "I doubt that whoever made it ever had
to actually wear it, sir."
Christine seemed to consider
that. "Bring it down tomorrow and
I'll take a look at it. Maybe we can
work on making it more comfortable."
"All right." She was saved from further comment by the
lift arriving at deck four. Saldusta got
out and Christine and Kerr continued to deck two.
"She's warmed up to
you. Although warm for her is still a
spring thaw for anyone else."
"She's coming
along."
"I wouldn't have given
her three weeks. What's your
secret?"
Christine's expression became
hooded as she remembered. "Just
lucky, I guess."
He decided not to press it
but followed her in to her quarters.
"So," he said as he pulled her into his arms and began to
nuzzle her neck. "What's for
dinner?"
She kissed him then pulled
away. "Food, Randall. I'm hungry.
If I let you do that, we'll never get to eat. I know you."
"We could do both. Eat and make love."
She laughed. "You are incorrigible."
He spoke to the
replicator. "Finger foods. Terran variety. Strawberries included."
"And whipped
cream." She grinned at his
expression. "What? I like whipped cream."
He chose not to reply, just
grabbed the tray and led her into the bedroom.
-------------------------------------
Sovar looked at the
chonometer. "Your dinner engagement
with Ambassador Nako is in one point two standard hours."
Spock did not look up from
his pad. "I am well aware of the
time, Mr. Sovar."
The younger vulcan
nodded. "Of course, sir." He had worked for the captain's father for
too long, he mused. One of Sarek's
strengths was his ability to lose himself in the task at hand. If not watched, however, he also tended to miss
important meetings. Sovar only had to
face the cold wrath of Amanda once to know he never wanted to see it
again. The woman could put the matriarch
to shame.
He realized that Spock was
studying him. "I'm sorry,
Ambassador. I was in the past."
"And I have a good idea
where in the past," Spock surprised him with the light look that was just
short of a smile. "My mother did
not like my father to be late."
"No, she did
not." Sovar handed Spock the second
pad. "This information came from
the Tourmaxian Council. They wish us to understand
their side of the issue."
"And they no doubt
consider their side the correct one."
"So it would seem."
Spock compared the two
pads. "Up till now, the Pesadii
have had no one to tell their side for them." He read for a minute. "The Federation assessment team
confirmed that they are a sentient race.
The Tourmaxian settlers believe them to be a form of vermin."
"They are telepathic, no
spoken language ability at all. It is a
common misconception to assume that language is equal to sentience."
"Indeed."
Sovar let him read for a
while before saying, "I should think this would be a clear-cut case. The Tourmaxian settled on an occupied
world."
Spock shook his head. "Unfortunately, they did not do it
knowingly. They claim—and the logs of
the Federation relocation teams back them up—that their scans of the planet
indicated there was no sentient life."
"But the Pesadii were
there."
"Yes, in some sort of
hibernative state. Their vital signs
were far below the capability of the most scanners. The arrival of the settlers—the psychic noise
of such a large group—apparently disturbed their slumber. But not before the Tourmaxians had plenty of
time to make the planet their home."
Sovar nodded solemnly. "So they woke up and found Tourmax had
been overrun."
"Someone has been sleeping
in my bed."
"I beg your pardon,
sir?"
"It is an old Earth
fairy tale." Spock steepled his
fingers. "There is something this
report leaves out. Something that the
Tourmaxian are not telling us." He
scanned the text again. "They refer
to them as vermin, even as predators.
Yet there is not one documented death of a Tourmaxian by a
Pesadii."
"The inverse is not
true, however."
"No. The Tourmaxian have been systemically
exterminating this species. The
Federation team discovered this when they made a follow-up visit to the
planet. That's why we're here. To try to find the truth in these stories we
are being told. If there is a
truth." Spock mused.
"It has been my
experience that truth is relative not universal." Sovar raised an eyebrow. "Will the Tourmaxians listen to what we
have to say?"
"I'm afraid they have no
choice. When they asked for Federation
aid they agreed to several conditions.
The first was that the planet be uninhabited, or if it was home to other
sentient life, that this life agree to having settlers on their world. This condition has clearly been
breached. It will be up to us to try to
find a solution."
"You have a plan,
sir?"
Spock shook his head. "I need to observe them, get them
talking to each other. Then, perhaps, I
will have a plan."
Sovar only nodded.
Spock got up and walked to
the viewscreen. "This is the kind
of mission that the Enterprise was often involved in. Captain Kirk was a master at sorting these
situations out."
"I am sure you are just
as accomplished, Ambassador."
Spock sniffed slightly. "Do not underestimate James T. Kirk,
Sovar. He was many things and one of
those was a born negotiator."
"It is easy to negotiate
with the firepower of a starship at your back."
"Undoubtedly. But he rarely resorted to that." Spock fell silent for a moment.
"Is there anything else,
sir?" Sovar waited but there was no
response. Spock seemed very far away, as
he often did when the conversation turned to his former commander. Sovar did not fully understand the
ambassador's reaction. But then Spock
was half-human. It explained a great
deal, he supposed. "Very well then. Have a pleasant evening, Ambassador."
"Thank you. The same to you, Sovar." Spock finally turned. His voice and expression were controlled in
every way. Sovar could almost convince
himself he had imagined the lapse.
-----------------------
Troi nodded to Penhallon as
the other man sauntered into the transporter room. As usual, Penhallon was just in time; Spock
was already giving the ensign on duty his instructions.
"Morning. Did I miss anything?"
"Nothing that you don't
always miss."
Penhallon nodded in
satisfaction. "You mean the boring
parts. Good."
Troi didn't want to ask, but
he couldn't help himself. "Who was
she this time?"
"Actually it was
Ritsuko." He laughed at Troi's
expression. "Not like that,
Andrew. She's having trouble coming up
with a menu for our visitors."
Troi frowned. "Chef's block?"
"Information block. Have you noticed how little data the
Tourmaxians really gave us on the Pesadii?"
"Lots of words,
though."
"Exactly." Penhallon straightened as the first of their
visitors arrived. "It's odd."
"Everything about this
one is odd, Stephen."
"You won't get any
argument there." Penhallon pointed
discreetly at Spock and Sovar. "Not
that you'd know it from them. Gotta
admire that kind of cool."
Troi grinned then had to wipe
that expression off his face as the Tourmaxian delegation appeared on the pad. There were five of them, two females and three
males. They were humanoid in appearance,
slightly shorter and bulkier than humans.
One of the males stepped off the pad.
The others followed.
"Ambassador Spock? I'm Cradash Lir, head of the delegation."
"A pleasure to welcome
you aboard." Spock nodded
graciously. "This is Mr.
Sovar. He will show you to your
quarters."
"You putting us close to
the Pesadii?"
"We have erected privacy
screens. And you will not have to share
a lift to get to the meeting areas."
Lir nodded. "Fine." He smiled for the first time. "Nice to be on a starship. Never had the chance before."
"Perhaps we can arrange
a tour later."
"Thanks,
Captain." He turned to Sovar. "Lead on."
"This way please."
Once they were gone Spock
turned to the ensign. "Is the
Pesadii party ready?"
He nodded.
"Energize." His command was followed by the slight squeal
of the transporter. Something
materialized. Four somethings.
Troi had to fight not to take
a step back. They were ugly. Hideous really. Hairless and nearly shapeless. Their sunken eyes seemed to swallow the
light.
"They don't think you're
very attractive either." A
black-eyed young man who had beamed up with the Pesadii stepped forward.
Spock looked at Troi, an
eyebrow just slightly raised.
Troi blushed. He usually did well among telepaths,
generally hiding his feelings with more skill.
"My apologies to all. An unforgivable breach."
"They forgive
you." The man gestured at the
Pesadii standing closest to him.
"My name is unimportant. I
am the vessel through which you can communicate. I speak so that you can hear the thoughts of
Grmm and his people."
Spock looked directly at Grmm
when he answered. "Understood. Welcome aboard. You will find the schedule for our
discussions in your quarters."
The man must have translated
because Grmm lumbered forward and bowed slightly.
"He says he is glad to
have the chance to speak for his people."
Spock looked at Troi. "You will show them to their quarters,
Commander?"
Troi nodded. "This way please." He turned to Grmm, again fighting the urge to
recoil. Even though his own psi levels
were documented in the low to non-existent range, he sent a mental apology to
both the Pesadii and to their translator.
*I am most sorry. I will
improve.*
He thought he sensed
amusement, then he heard the translator's voice ring in his mind. *You are forgiven. Intent is considered along with action.*
"We have had some
trouble determining what sort of nourishment you require," he said to
Grmm.
"We require nothing,
thank you. Our bodies are
self-sustaining."
"Is yours?" Troi
asked the translator.
"No. I require food." The man studied Troi. "Perhaps you can show me what is
available?"
"You have a replicator
in your room. I'll show you how to work
it." Troi led them onto the lift
and up to deck two. The area looked
completely isolated. He knew that
several crewmen had been up earlier, sealing off each VIP area so that it was
self-contained. The senior officer's
quarters sat between the two billets.
Hidden entrances allowed emergency access for the Carter crew, but the
visitors were effectively sealed off from each other's living areas. Sensors and monitors made sure that they
stayed that way. Any attempt by either
delegation to sabotage the other would be immediately recorded and
stopped.
Troi stopped at the main
door. "This is your room," he
said to Grmm.
The Pesadii pushed past
him. The others followed him in. The translator turned and gave Troi an amused
look. "They stay together. It is their way. It is not my way. Please wait for me?"
"Of course."
The door shut and Troi
waited, trying to fix the image of the Pesadii in his mind, trying to
desensitize himself to it. His earlier
breach was unforgivable. And not like
him.
The door opened and the
translator emerged. "Don't beat
yourself up over it. They're just glad
you didn't shoot them."
Troi smiled.
"I'm Gallen
Rixx."
"Pleasure." Troi led the man down the hall and opened
another door for him. "You're from
Betazed?"
Rixx nodded as he walked into
the room. "Have you ever been
there?"
"Keep meaning to. I hear it's beautiful."
"I think it's the most
beautiful place in the galaxy."
"But here you are."
"Someone needs to speak
for those who can't. Besides, I'm
running away from duty at home. I'll go
back eventually and face up to my responsibilities, but until then, I'll do
this." Rixx walked over to the
replicator. "Ginger beer, Betazed
origin." At Troi's look he
laughed. "Oh, I know how to work
them. I've been on more ships than you
can imagine. I just wanted an excuse to
talk to you." He sipped the
beer. "I like to talk. Try to do it whenever I get the chance."
"What's it like to be a
telepath?"
Rixx shrugged. "What's it like to not be
one?" He grinned. "It's what I know. I can't imagine what it would be like to go
through life without knowing what people were thinking. There must be a million missteps. Not that knowing thoughts necessarily
prevents that. People often think one
thing and do something quite different."
"I imagine that's
true." Troi sat down at the
table. "We're having trouble
getting much data on the Pesadii. The
Tourmaxians weren't what you'd call generous.
What can you tell me?"
Rixx frowned. "I'm not at liberty to discuss things
I've learned from my special relationship with Grrm and the others."
"I'm just asking what
they're like. I'm not going to pry into
their state secrets."
"I'm afraid I'll have to
let you experience them naturally. I can
only give you my impression as a telepath, and that paradigm has no meaning for
you." He looked genuinely sorry.
"Of course. I shouldn't have asked."
"It's your job to ask
though, isn't it, Commander?"
Troi nodded.
"Just as it's my job to
protect my client's secrets."
Troi grinned. "So they do have secrets?"
Rixx would not rise to the
bait. "Everyone has secrets."
"That is a
fact." Troi rose. "I'll let you settle in. If you want to talk more, feel free to comm
me."
"Duties permitting,
Commander, I just may do that."
--------------------------------------------------
It was nearly time for shift
change when Spock returned from welcoming the delegations. He gestured for Christine to join him in his
ready room. She rose quickly, saying,
"Lieutenant Kimble, you have the conn," as she walked up to his
office.
Once the doors had closed,
she asked, "Everybody settled
in?"
"So it would
seem." He sat down at his desk.
She took her normal
chair. "You don't seem very happy
about that."
"Happy is an
emotion."
She grinned. "And we both know you don't have
those."
His expression lightened
somewhat. "You know me too
well."
"So how can I
help?"
"I'm not sure you
can." His look of gratitude for her
asking took any sting out of the answer.
"I imagine that Nako
would be helpful in a situation like this..."
He sighed very softly. "You are not going to leave this alone
are you?"
"I'm really not,
Spock. Anyone else on this ship would be
subject to medical, why isn't she?"
"I saw her last night
for dinner. She is not in danger. She is going through something that she
prefers to endure privately."
"I understand that. I do.
And I don't care. I'm the CMO
here. And she has been out for too long
for me to accept that excuse any longer.
I'm going to go see her. I'd
prefer to do it with your blessing. But
I'll do it without."
Spock stared at her. She stared right back. Finally he looked away. "You are at times a...pain, I think is
the right word?"
She got up. "It is."
As she headed toward the door
she heard him say. "You are also a
fine first officer, Christine."
She laughed. "I just ask myself what you would have
done."
"This is not what I
would have done."
"No, knowing you, you'd
go see her, then tell the Captain."
"At times it is better
to ask forgiveness than permission."
He almost smiled. "But not
on this ship, of course."
"Of course
not." She left him to his work and
took the lift to deck two. She rang the
chime for Nako's quarters and waited.
She rang it again. "Computer,
notify Ambassador Nako that I will override her privacy lock in thirty
seconds."
The door opened a moment
later. "You would try the patience
of a saint, child," Nako said as she motioned Christine inside.
"You're not a saint, and
I'm not a child, Nako." Christine
watched as the older woman sat down heavily on a chair. "You're not well."
"I am not ill, if that
is what you mean. My people are not the
same as yours, Commander. We go through
periods of strength and then those of weakness.
Fortunately the times that we are not strong do not last long. And I am old and have weathered many of
them. I know what to expect, and what I
need to do to get through this."
"In other words, I
should butt out. When was the last time
you slept?"
"We don't sleep during
this time."
"And that doesn't
concern you?"
"Why should it?"
"No sleep, no
dreams. No dreams, no REM. Humans can go insane without the outlet of a
good dream every now and then."
"I am not human."
"So your people don't
dream?"
"I did not say that,
Commander."
"Sure you did. Just not directly."
"We dream. We dream worlds." Nako seemed very far away for a moment, then
she gave a small snort of laughter.
"See how fanciful you make me.
We dream. But not at this
time."
Christine walked over to the
table where a large loom had been set up.
A vivid red and orange fabric was coming together. It looked as perfectly fluid as the other
clothing Nako wore. "Is this what
you do then? Weave?"
"Do you like it?"
She fingered the fabric. It felt like silk. "I do."
"Perhaps I can make
something for you? Something that the
Colonel would like?"
Christine knew she was
blushing. "You disapprove of
him?"
Nako smiled. "On the contrary. He is of strong character and a good
man."
"Yes. But we're not here to discuss him, Nako. I want to talk about you."
Nako pulled the loom toward
her. Her hands worked the loom, slowly
at first, then increasingly faster. The
red and orange came together, seemed to fuse with a new, third thread that
Christine was sure she hadn't seen in the mix.
She leaned in to check.
"I make it."
"What?"
"The yellow. That's what you're looking for, isn't
it? I make it, I make them all."
Christine realized that there
was no visible source of all the yarn.
"You make it how?"
Nako shrugged. "Ask the spider how she makes her
web." She didn't look up from her
loom. Her shoulders hunched as she threw
the shuttle back and forth. As Christine
watched her, Nako's image seemed to shimmer slightly.
She remembered Nako's comment
to Redmoon when they had first met. "You called him grandson." Christine took a step back and suddenly felt
dizzy. An old legend came to mind. "Ts'its'tsi'nako," she said,
stumbling over Nako's cumbersome full name.
"I thought it was alien."
"It is, my dear. What else would it be?" Nako looked up from the loom, her face was
serene. "I will be fine in a few
days. Will you let me be until
then?"
"Alone in here? Spinning?"
Nako smiled. "Weaving, child. Weaving." She got up slowly and faced Christine. "Don't be afraid of me, Commander. I am nothing frightening. I'm just not quite what you thought."
"After the magic you
worked on the high priest on Canara Seltax, I wasn't sure what you were
anyway."
Nako reached out and touched
her arm. The touch was warm and
comforting, same as it ever was. "I
am who I am." She squeezed
Christine's arm, then turned back to her loom.
"Now let me be."
I don't understand this,
Christine thought as she walked out of Nako's room. And I may never understand this, she
realized. She could still feel Nako's
touch on her arm. She felt protected, as
she always did when she talked to the woman.
Maybe understanding wasn't necessary.
Maybe only faith was.
-----------------------------
Penhallon was studying one of
the pictures on the wall of the conference room when Troi arrived. Troi put his pads down then joined him. "Thinking of stealing it for your
quarters?"
"God no!" Penhallon moved to the next painting. "I'm trying to figure out just what
makes these paintings so universally bland and inoffensive without being boring."
"Seriously?"
"I had to do something
while I was waiting. It's a rare day
that I report in earlier than you."
Troi rubbed his eyes. "I didn't sleep well last night."
Penhallon stretched
slowly. "That is why I recommend
not sleeping alone, if you can help it.
It's good for what ails you."
"I'll take that under
consideration. Does it help with dreams
though? Because I think I was having a
nightmare." Troi frowned as he
remembered snippets of the dream. He had
been running then he was cornered by monsters that looked like the
Pesadii. Only once they had cornered him
they began to ask him questions, just as his thesis board had done. Only he was so busy staring at them in horror
that he couldn't answer. He shuddered
slightly. "I dreamed about the
Pesadii. I felt like a teenager again
yesterday, Stephen. Reacting to their looks the way I did."
Penhallon shrugged. "They are powerful ugly."
"You didn't react
visibly."
"My friend, when you
make it your practice to experience as much of the galaxy as I have, you get to
see some pretty scary things."
"You mean the
females."
"Female is not a
universally defined term. I've seen some
bizarre things in my time once the clothing comes off. Taught myself not to react to it, just to go
ahead and see what happens."
"And it all worked out
in the end because of your ability not to judge?"
"Well, mostly. One time I nearly lost a vital part of my
anatomy. If you ever see teeth, Andrew,
run like hell."
Troi laughed. "I'll remember that."
The door opened and Troi
steeled himself not to react but it was only Kerr with the security detachment.
"Now there is a man who
isn't getting much sleep," Penhallon said sotto voce. "I wonder what she's like?"
"I'm not going to speculate."
"You're a prude,
Andrew. You know that?"
"I just think some
things should be left alone."
Penhallon smiled smugly. "What you need is to settle down and
start a family. You're long past your
wild days. Hell, do you even remember
your wild days?"
"At least I didn't take
this assignment as a way to meet women."
"Neither did I."
Penhallon laughed. "The women just
keep showing up."
Troi tried not to smile, but
as usual, found it impossible to stay mad at his friend. Any further conversation along this vein was
halted by the appearance of Spock and Sovar.
"Good morning,
gentlemen," Spock said graciously.
"Our visitors will be here shortly." He looked mildly in Troi's direction. "We are all prepared for this?"
Troi smiled sheepishly.
Seemingly satisfied, Spock
looked over at Kerr, waiting for him to finish briefing the three marine
security guards before asking him, "I take it there were no incidents last
night?"
"Nobody even left their
quarters, sir." Kerr approached the
table and handed Spock a pad. "This
is the observation vid. No
activity."
"Not even to the
observation lounge?" Troi asked.
"They didn't want to look at their planet from above?"
"Guess their viewscreens
were good enough last night. But if they
don't want out after this meeting, I for one will want to know why." It was clear how Kerr felt about long
meetings.
Spock nodded. "As will I. Thank you, Colonel."
"Sir." Kerr left.
Troi found himself envying
the man's confidence. He thought about Stephen's
comment regarding Kerr and Chapel and also found himself envying the man's
domestic arrangements. Maybe his friend
was right. Maybe it was time to settle
down.
The conference room door
opened again and Cradash Lir led his delegation in. Sovar stood and indicated the chairs on his
side of the table. Lir sat down and Troi
noticed a small, almost anticipatory, smile as Lir watched the Pesadii came
in. Rixx led them to the remaining
chairs. Grrm sat down tentatively, then
seemed to relax as the chair adjusted to his body contours. A small sigh escaped him then he looked at
Spock.
"Most kind to make
special arrangements for us," Rixx translated. "We appreciate it."
Spock nodded. "It is the least that we can do to
facilitate this meeting."
"Whose side are you on,
Captain?" Lir's deep voice boomed
in the full room. "Looks like
you've already made your decision regarding our case!"
"We merely wish for all
to be comfortable in what will be undoubtedly long discussions. There have been no decisions made, I assure
you." Spock faced down Lir, the
smallest amount of censure showing on his face.
Lir stood up and slammed his
hands on the table. The marine guard
behind him looked ready to spring.
"I think you have. And I
think that this meeting isn't going to start today. We'll come back when we think we're getting a
fair hearing and not before." Lir
nodded to his team. "Come on."
One of the guards followed
them out. In a few minutes she was back
and said, "They went to Mr. Lir's quarters and engaged the privacy
lock. They didn't say anything on the
way up."
Spock looked at Grrm. "I cannot continue without them, it
would not be fitting. We will have to
adjourn until they are ready to return to the table."
"We understand. We will wait." And the Pesadii delegation rose and left the
room, followed by the guard.
Troi looked at Spock. "Sir, if I may, that seemed
scripted. Lir appeared to be waiting for
an opportunity to blow."
Sovar raised an eyebrow. "How do you conclude that?"
Spock answered for him. "The look on this face. I saw it too,
Commander."
Troi nodded. "But why? What does stalling get them?"
Penhallon frowned. "Unless they're planning something on
the surface?"
Sovar looked concerned. "A massacre?"
"Possibly."
Spock hit the comm
button. "Spock to Kerr."
"Kerr here, sir."
"The Tourmaxians have
left the table. We believe they are
stalling. We are unsure why but
anticipate that it might be to allow something else to occur."
Kerr was right with him. "Something on the surface?"
"Precisely."
"I'm on it, sir."
"Excellent. Spock out." He looked at his staff. "Gentlemen, until they come back to the
table we are back to business as usual.
I'll let you know when that changes.
Dismissed."
Troi followed the rest of the
delegation out. He noticed Spock slowing
down to talk to him. "Sir?"
"Did you have any luck
getting to know the translator?"
Troi looked at him in
surprise. "Excuse me, sir?"
"I did not send you with
the Pesadii to punish you for your slight break in protocol, Commander. I sent you because I thought you would be
able to forge common ground with the Betazoid.
I have noticed your ease in making friends on this ship. I had hoped that this skill would work with
him too."
Troi smiled. "It might have."
"I'm sure he is getting
tired of those quarters, Commander.
Betazoids are known for being extroverts. A tour of the ship perhaps?"
Troi nodded. "I'll ask him, sir, after my shift. I imagine he will be quite ready to get out
by then."
---------------------
Kerr commed Major Collins as
soon as he was out of the conference room.
"Sir?"
"We're going
planetside. Get up a discreet
detachment--recon at this point but ready for more--and meet me in the
transporter room."
"Yes, sir."
Collins and a group of
marines were waiting for him when he arrived, discreetly loaded for bear. Collins handed him his jacket, also loaded up
with his gear, and a phaser. They
stepped on the pad and beamed down to the outskirts of Tourmax's only
city. It was filled with people.
"There's a Starfleet
assessment team down here. We'll start
with them." Kerr walked off in the
direction his pad said the team's headquarters lay. As they passed the settlers, he studied their
faces. Everyone looked sluggish,
exhausted even. Like they hadn't slept
in days. And Spock was right. It did look like something was up down here.
Collins asked quietly,
"Where are the Pesadii, sir?"
Hiding? he wondered. "I don't know, Collins."
They reached the Starfleet
offices and found only the team lead there.
"Dr. Mobley? I'm Lieutenant
Colonel Kerr. From the Carter."
"What's the problem,
Colonel?"
"Have you noticed
anything unusual? Any sign that the
Tourmaxians might be planning a more permanent and speedier solution to their
problem with the Pesadii?"
Mobley laughed. "More permanent? You mean genocide? I hardly think they'd dare do that when we're
all here watching them. Although, I
might not put it past them if they thought they could make it look like an
accident."
"Are this many people
usually on the streets?"
"It's a busy city. But something does seem off. That's where the rest of my team is. I sent them out to investigate as soon as I
noticed."
"I think we'll do a
little investigating too."
"Be my guest,
Colonel. The more eyes the better. Now if you'll excuse me, I owe Starfleet an
expense report." He rolled his eyes
at the bureaucratic requirements of his job and Kerr smiled in sympathy.
Once back outside, Kerr and
his team stood to the side of the building and watched the people. Some of them were nearly stumbling.
Collins leaned in. "Are they drunk, sir?"
Kerr shook his head. "No.
Not drunk." He pulled out
his communicator. "Kerr to
Chapel."
Her answer was
immediate. "Chapel here. How's it going down there?"
He wasn't surprised that she
knew where he was and what he was doing.
Not much got by her when she was in charge. "We're ok. But I need a medical opinion. Care to come down here and give us a
hand?" He saw Collins fight a smile
and glared at him.
"Love to. But we just started a diagnostic up
here. Hold on."
He heard her page sickbay.
"Carpenter here,
Commander."
"Colonel Kerr has a
medical puzzle down on Tourmax. Care to
give him a hand?"
"Delighted. I'll be right down."
"I'm transferring his
coordinates to the transporter room, Chapel out."
He heard her talking to the
transporter room then she came back on his line. "Colonel, Doctor Carpenter's on her
way."
"Appreciate it,
sir."
"Good luck. Chapel out."
A few moments later,
Carpenter materialized in front of them.
"Heard you needed a sawbones."
He grinned. "You heard right. What do you think of them?" He pointed with his chin toward the
Tourmaxian that were passing them.
She watched them for a
moment. "If I didn't know better,
I'd say they were on something."
"But you know
better? How?"
"They sure don't seem to
be deriving any pleasure from the experience.
Look at their faces."
The Tourmaxians did look
grimly determined. To do what, Kerr
wasn't sure. But she was right. This was no simple high.
She scanned the crowd with
her tricorder. "Compared to the
norms in the database for Tourmaxians, these people's hormone and
neurotransmitter levels are all off."
"Off how?"
"Elevated. If I had to guess, I'd say they hadn't slept
in days." Her eyes met his. "That's the best I can do from here. Let me beam back up and see what some
additional analysis gets us."
"Of course. Thanks."
Carpenter nodded and called
for a beam up. Once she was gone, Kerr
led his team back down the street.
"Let's look for any obvious gatherings. We still don't know what they're planning, if
anything."
----------------------------------------------
Christine watched the results
of the diagnostic come in and tried not to feel envious of Carpenter. She'd get Kerr all to herself this
evening.
"Sir, communications
diagnostic is finished. All systems
performing at 98% or better efficiency."
The rest checked in with
similar results.
"Looks like we might be
here for a while with nothing but time on our hands. Let's try to get that rating to 100% or
better."
"Yes, sir," they
all responded and turned to their tasks.
She got up and walked around
the bridge, watching them as they worked.
She noticed Saldusta adjusting her torque and walked over. "Is that still bothering you?"
"It's fine,
sir." But she didn't stop pulling
at the instrument.
"Lieutenant Kavall, you
have the conn. Lieutenant Saldusta,
you're with me."
"Sir, I'm fine."
"Now,
Lieutenant." She gestured for
Saldusta to precede her to the lift. The
woman did but her expression left no question as to her mood. As soon as the turbolift's doors closed, she
turned on Christine. "You have no
right. This is a personal issue that I
can take care of myself."
"And if you had taken
care of it yourself, I wouldn't be doing this."
"I will take care of
it."
"When?"
Saldusta crossed her
arms. "When I'm ready. I don't see you forcing the others down to
sickbay for their own good."
"Well, you don't see
everything that goes on in this ship. I
have a right as CMO to make sure that everyone is functioning at peak medical
condition. And since you are not, I'm taking
action. Whether you know about the
instances or not, Saldusta, I have exercised this right with other crewmember
before."
"I don't need a
mother."
Actually, thought Christine,
that's exactly what you do need. But we
both know that's not going to happen.
"And I don't want to be your mother, Lieutenant." She turned away and faced the doors.
"I--"
"This discussion is
over, Lieutenant." Christine did
not turn to look at her although she could practically feel Saldusta's
anger. The lift doors opened and she
walked quickly to sickbay. She could
hear Saldusta's boots hitting the floor behind her. "Take a seat," she directed the
other woman.
Saldusta sat down and
silently glared at Christine. Carpenter
stepped out of her office in sickbay and asked, "I thought you were on the
bridge?" Saldusta's angry stare didn't waver off of Christine's face. Christine turned to the other doctor and
smiled. "Just going to fix her
torque and then we'll be back up there."
"Fine." She watched as Christine checked several
drawers. "The microtools that would
work best for that are in the top right cabinet."
"Thanks," Christine
said as Carpenter walked back into her office.
She hadn't had much call to familiarize herself with sickbay. Especially not since Carpenter had rearranged
it to her liking. She held her hand out
to Saldusta, who reluctantly removed the humidifier. Her skin on her neck looked raw, rubbed in some
places so much that it had blistered.
Shaking her head in dismay, Christine grabbed a dermal regenerator from
the counter and started to work on the wounded skin.
"There's no reason to
walk around with something like this."
The skin slowly healed under the light from the regenerator. She dug around in one of the drawers until
she found the cream she wanted.
"That tissue is still tender, even if it looks fine now. Put this on twice a day for the next few
days."
"Fine." She held out her hand for the torque. "Can I go now?"
"No. I'm going to see if I can't fix
this." She ran her finger around
the torque, feeling for any rough spots.
She kept her tone neutral as she asked, "What's eating you,
Saldusta? You haven't been this rude
since you reported."
"I'm fine."
"Uh huh." Christine located the sizing apparatus and used
one of the small tools to extend the telescoping ring a few inches. She tried it around Saldusta's neck and saw
that it was hitting too low on her neck.
She made it a bit smaller and tried it again. Perfect.
As she finished locking the setting into place she looked over at
Saldusta. The woman's eyes were
drooping. "Did you sleep well last
night?"
Saldusta's eyes popped
open. "Fine."
Christine pretended to make
another adjustment to the torque as she surreptitiously studied Saldusta. The woman's normally vibrant scales seemed
grayish. "Your color's
off."
Saldusta looked away. "I'm fine."
"You don't look
fine. And you're cranky as hell. Now either you tell me what the matter is, or
I leave you here with the doctors for a full medical workup."
"You can't do
that."
Christine sighed. "I can.
And I will. What is it about CMO
that you don't get?"
Saldusta looked away,
frustration coloring her face.
"Trust me,
Saldusta," Christine said gently.
"You did once."
When the woman finally spoke,
Christine could barely hear her. "I
dreamt of her."
"Of your mother?"
Saldusta nodded. "It wasn't a very nice dream."
"I'm sorry. Recurring dreams can be disturbing."
"But I don't usually
remember anything I dream and this was so vivid. I can still see her."
Christine didn't know what to
say.
"Can I go now,
Commander?" Saldusta took the
torque from Christine and left sickbay.
Carpenter walked up to her
stool. "Still having troubles with
that one?"
"Not so much. Something's wrong with her. I have trouble believing it's one bad
dream."
"Well at least she's
sleeping. We have a planet's worth of
people that aren't. Come look at the
scans I took."
Christine followed her into
her office. She studied the overlapping
readings that Carpenter had gathered.
"GABA and serotonin levels are off the scale. Adenosine is way up too."
"I know. You should see these people, they are bumping
into things, very lethargic. I'd say
they are sleep deprived. But that
doesn't mesh with this here." She
pointed to another line on the scans.
"Elevated levels of dopamine, which are consistent with
arousal."
"You're right. That makes no sense." Christine scrolled through the other
information. "None of this makes
sense."
"I'd like to run some
scans on our Tourmaxian guests, if you don't mind. See if their readings are consistent?"
"Fine but take it from
the transporter reading. I don't want
them finding another reason to walk out on the Captain."
Carpenter recalled the
transporter scans and compared them to the ones from the rest of the
Tourmaxians. "They are similar, but
the levels are all much lower. More in
the normal range." Carpenter looked
up at her. "I'd really like to know
where those levels are now."
Christine nodded. "As would I. If I can find a discreet way to get the
scans, I'll bring them to you."
Carpenter handed her a very
small instrument. "Use this. It's a whole lot less obvious."
Christine palmed the
scanner. "Can you pull up the
Pesadii readings, just for the hell of it?"
"Sure." A moment later the screen filled with four
bizarre scans and one more consistent with human norms. "This is the Betazoid translator,"
Carpenter pointed to the familiar pattern.
"The rest are Pesadii. I
don't even know what to make of this."
Christine studied the
chart. "This norepinephrine is
high, as is the dopamine. If that's even
what it is."
"At least the Betazoid
is easy to read. Perfectly normal."
Christine sighed. She hit the comm. "Chapel to Kerr."
"Kerr here."
"We've analyzed the
scans Dr. Carpenter took. I'm not sure
we can tell you anything. Has there been
any change in behavior?"
"Nope. Still a bunch of people wandering around,
looking tired as hell. We did find out
where the Pesadii are though. They're
underground, quite a ways out of town.
The assessment team said they never come out during the day. And, while they seem to be nocturnal, they
really don't come out all that much at night either."
"They certainly do seem
happy to stay in that one room. But
Spock didn't say anything about them being nocturnal. We're running the meetings on a normal
schedule here."
"Maybe they didn't want
to rock the boat by requesting special hours?"
"Maybe. Let me know if you see anything new."
"Roger that. Kerr out."
Christine looked at the
Pesadii scans. She had the feeling she
was missing something. "Can you
bring up the Tourmaxian's readings again?"
Nothing. She knew she was missing
something but it wasn't going to come to her this way. She fought a yawn.
"Not sleeping
well?" Carpenter grinned. "Or not sleeping enough?" When Christine just stared at her, she rolled
her eyes. "Ok, forget I
asked."
"I will." Christine hurried out before Carpenter could
say anything else. She had guessed right
though. Christine wasn't getting enough
sleep. She couldn't help smiling at the
thought of what she was getting instead.
She wouldn't trade her nights with Kerr for all the perfect slumbers in
the world.
--------------------------
"It is your turn,"
Spock said gently.
"What? Oh right." Kettering looked at his cribbage hand. "Sorry I'm distracted.
"Not distracted
enough. You have a sizeable lead. If you are not going to pay attention, you
might at least have the grace to lose."
"In your dreams,
Spock. I'm not about to give away a five
game lead without a fight."
"I suppose
not." Spock arranged his cards for
a moment, then asked, "Why are you distracted?"
Kettering snorted. "Some genius at headquarters decided
that all the chief engineers need to be recertified."
"You are one of the
finest engineers I have worked with. You
have no need for concern."
"Oh, I know the
material. But I don't test well. I never have.
I'm afraid I'll choke."
"Yet you managed to get
through the Academy tests."
Kettering shuffled the cards
and said, "That was different. I
was used to it then. And to be honest, I
didn't have the best test scores but my instructors knew me and understood that
I knew the material. But now, they'll
just be going by the test score. I'm
really nervous."
"If you wish assistance
in preparing, Ron, I could help you."
"I'd appreciate
that," Kettering replied gratefully.
If someone had told him that he would become friends with the most
famous Vulcan in the fleet, he would have asked them what they were
drinking. But over the years that he'd
known Spock, their relationship had blossomed into a real friendship. Kettering couldn't remember the exact moment
that Spock has started calling him 'Ron' in private. It had happened so gradually that it took
Kettering a while to realize he could drop the Ambassador or the Captain, when
they were off duty.
"Only two points to go
and I count first. You think you can
keep me from getting there?" Kettering taunted Spock good-naturedly.
"Probably not. But I will make the attempt."
"You always do."
"Someday you should play
chess with me."
"You say that every time
you lose, Spock. You just want a game
where smarts count for more than luck."
"That would be a
pleasant change."
Kettering laughed as he won
the game. "That puts me six games
ahead. Four more and you'll owe me
dinner." It was a running joke
between them. In the years that this
impromptu tournament had been going, no one had ever held the lead past six
games.
Kettering, rising to pour
himself another drink, asked, "You want anything?" Spock surprised him with a request for
Guinness. "Room temp?"
"Of course." Accepting the drink, Spock looked at
Kettering thoughtfully. "You are as
accomplished an engineer as Mr. Scott."
"I'll never be that
good." Kettering took a sip of his
beer and frowned. "He could look at
a problem and just know what was going on.
It was like he didn't have to even open the damn console."
"I have seen you do the
same. You just aren't aware of it."
Kettering thought about
that. "Maybe. But if I'm that good, why don't I feel
it?"
"We rarely judge
ourselves the same way we judge others."
"I suppose. But you have no idea what it's like to always
have this unattainable person in front of you.
Someone that you are trying to emulate while at the same time you know
you'll never be good enough. For
you. Or for them."
Spock smiled very
slightly. "I have a very good idea
of what that's like. I have told you
that my father and I are somewhat estranged?
It is in large part because of the choices I have made in life and his
disapproval of them."
"You had the right to
chart your own path."
"Tell that to my
father." Spock picked up his glass
and studied the dark brown liquid.
"Tell that to my schoolmates when I was young. I know all too well what it feels like to be
judged inferior." He stared deep
into the stout and then looked up at Kettering, his expression lightening. "I also know what it is like to prosper
despite this. You will too."
Kettering smiled. He held his glass out. "To success." When Spock held out his own glass, Ron tapped
it gently. "But you'll help me
study?"
"I will."
"Thanks." They drank in silence for a while. Then he
looked up at Spock slyly. "You
think I can finally make it seven?"
"There are always
possibilities, Commander," Spock said, indicating Kettering should deal
the cards out again.
-----------------------------------------
"Mr. Rixx? It's Lieutenant Commander Troi."
"Hello!" The Betazoid looked overjoyed to hear from
him, just as Spock had supposed. Troi
was again impressed with the Vulcan's insight into other cultures and their
motivations. Troi was supposed to be an
expert on that, yet he was constantly learning from Spock. Just another reason to be glad that he got
this posting.
"I was going off shift
and thought you might want company for dinner?"
"So we could talk?"
"Exactly." Troi grinned.
"I can throw in a tour of the ship if you're interested."
"Just get me out of
these rooms and I'll even pretend to be interested in antimatter
engines." Rixx laughed.
"Fine, I'll be by
shortly."
Troi finished up the last of
the things he wanted to get through and, saying goodnight to his staff, walked
to Rixx's quarters. The Betazoid was
ready to go--he'd obviously been standing by the door waiting. He grinned, "Sorry, I just was going a
little stir crazy."
"Not a problem. It's why I called," Troi said with a
smile as he led him first to the VIP observation lounge. He was surprised to see the Tourmaxians
inside. He'd assumed after their walk
out that they would keep to themselves.
They were drinking and laughing about something, but their conversation
ceased the minute they saw Troi and Rixx.
"Sorry to disturb
you," Troi said politely.
"Compared to some other
things we could name, you aren't disturbing at all," Lir said. The other members laughed again. Troi wished he were in on the joke.
"Hey Mr. Translator, how
do you like being so close to them?
Guess you can block them out sometimes, huh?" Lir was definitely drunk.
Rixx looked very
uncomfortable. "Any good telepath
can block."
"Fortunate for
you," one of the women yelled. Her
colleagues looked amused and angry at the same time.
Troi took a step
forward. "If you know something
that would help us understand the Pesadii better, why don't you tell the captain?"
Lir smirked. "Oh, your captain'll find out soon
enough, I imagine. Maybe even first
hand."
Troi felt his patience
snap. "If you think you're being
clever, you're not. If you think you're
hiding that you know something, you're failing dismally. I may not know what it is, but I know that
you're hiding something."
Lir just raised his glass at
Troi and laughed again.
Rixx touched his arm. "Let's go, Commander."
Troi let himself be guided
out of the lounge. "They make me so
mad."
"They have an
agenda."
"What about you, Mr.
Rixx? What's your damn agenda? I know you know something, just like I know
they know something, I'll just be damned if I know what that something is." He pulled away. "That sentence made no sense."
"Actually it did. And I'd tell you if I could. But I can't."
Troi looked at Rixx. The man's eyes were haunted. "What is it?"
"I wish I could
say. But I can't, I gave my word."
Troi took a deep breath. He wasn't sure why he felt so off
balance. He let his breath out slowly,
seeking a calmer place. "Let's
continue the tour then."
"Fine, Commander."
"Call me Andrew."
Rixx smiled. "And I'm Gallen. Mr. Rixx is my father."
Troi nodded. He showed Rixx the normal tour spots, then
took him to the greenhouse area. As soon
as he had keyed in the pass code and motioned Rixx in, the smell of flowers and
other growing things hit him. He took a
deep breath of the warm air and let it out slowly, feeling himself relax
finally starting to relax.
Rixx had already stepped
deeper into the space. Troi allowed him
to lead them from room to room, stopping here and there to smell an unusual
bloom.
"This is so
beautiful. Flowers from every world
blooming along side each other peacefully.
If only people could do the same."
Troi laughed. "Well, we have left out all the
carnivorous plants, the poisonous flowers, the creepers that tend to strangle
other root systems, the succulents that hoard all the water and cause the
plants around them to die..."
"Okay, okay. I get the picture." Rixx laughed as he bent to smell a rose. His smile was serene as he looked up at Troi. "This is the loveliest smell. It reminds me of England."
"You were in
England?"
"I told you. I've been around." Rixx walked to another rose, a deep
coral. He touched it gently. "My betrothed colors her lips this
shade."
"She sounds
lovely."
"She is." Rixx looked at Troi. "If it were just Larissa that waited for
me, I'd go back to Betazed without hesitation.
I love her."
"If you love her, what
else matters?"
"Spoken like a man who
hasn't fallen in love yet." Rixx
smiled gently. "You'll find that
while love can make you feel wonderful, it can't fix everything. What's inside us is still there."
"I suppose
so." Troi sat down on the
grass. "I would like to fall in
love. I've even tried a couple of
times. But it never felt real."
Rixx joined him. "Probably wasn't. Once it hits you, you'll never mistake
anything else for it again. But until it
does come, it's easy to imagine that what you are feeling is it. Oh, but it's wonderful. To know someone, really know them. To finally feel the way you always knew it
was possible to feel."
"So what's keeping you
out here in space?"
"My family." Rixx tore up a few blades of grass, then
looked guilty. "I'm probably not
supposed to do that, am I?"
Troi shrugged. "I won't tell, if you won't."
Rixx smiled and looked
down. "My family is sort of a big
deal on Betazed. Kind of a form of
royalty."
"Really?" Troi laughed.
"I didn't realize I was giving a V-VIP tour."
"I said they are, not
me, not out here. I'm just a
translator. I wanted a chance to live
like a normal person before I took up the challenge of the Fifth House."
"Fifth?"
"As in there are four
ahead of it. Funny how that title isn't
flaunted the same way when we're among members of those houses." Rixx tore up another large hunk of
grass. "I'm not saying that we
don't have a responsibility to the people, but there is more to life than just
spouting off about the chalice of Rixx and the holy rings or attending royal
functions." He turned to Troi, his
expression desperate. "There has to
be."
"Looks like you're
seeing to that. Whenever you do go back,
it won't be just a prince that returns.
Look at the good you've done as a diplomatic translator, the experiences
you'll take home with you. Who knows,
Gallen, maybe diplomacy will become a Rixx family tradition because of your
little detour?"
Rixx smiled. "Then the Fifth House would mean
something again."
"And the chalice would
shine," Troi added.
"The chalice can't
shine. It's a misshapen wooden drinking
cup that has been in the family for centuries.
Supposedly the first ruler of Betazed drank out of it when she visited
our family."
"Do you think that's
true?"
"No more than she ate
off the sacred platter of the Fourth House or used the sacred cutlery of the
Third House. And sure we're the heirs to
the holy rings of Betazed...if about twenty people die childless." Rixx grimaced. "My people are really good at pomp. If it isn't there, they'll make it up."
"But if you are all
telepathic, surely everyone knows what is true and what isn't."
"Well there are
protocols for how far into someone's mind you should go depending on the
circumstance. And I wasn't kidding about
being able to shield. We learn that in
defense, if only from prying siblings."
His face fell.
"Gallen?"
"I had a younger
brother. Lwaxen. He died when I was five. He was sick for a long time. I learned how to shield even more so I
wouldn't feel his pain. And so he
wouldn't know how scared I was for him when I was trying to cheer him up."
Troi touched Rixx's arm. "I'm sorry. I do understand a bit of what you went
through. I lost my grandfather to
disease. He was like a father to
me."
"What was his
name?"
"Ian. If I had a son, I'd name him that. Just seems the right thing to do, to honor my
grandfather."
Rixx's voice was very
soft. "I'll name my son
Lwaxen."
Troi nodded.
Rixx smiled. "Now if it's a girl, I guess I'll have
to get creative. Lwaxine maybe."
Troi laughed. "Sounds like a chemical byproduct."
"You're right. It needs work. Oh well." Rixx stood up. "I'm starving. How about you?"
"Let me introduce you to
the mess hall." Troi ran his foot
over the grass where Rixx had been sitting.
"Don't want to leave any evidence.
You haven't seen scary until you've pissed off a starship gardener err
botanist."
Rixx laughed. "I don't know. I bet the groundskeeper for the Fifth House
could give you a run for your money."
"Keep your credits. I believe you." With a last look for bald spots in the grass,
Troi led Rixx to dinner.
-----------------------
It was murky gray and very
cold. This wasn't what Qamaljr felt
like. Where was she? Saldusta swam frantically, trying to get her
bearings.
"Pathetic," a voice
sounded behind her.
"Mother?" She flipped gracelessly and tangled herself
in a long strand of sea grass.
Her mother hung motionless in
the water. Her scales were molting off
of her slowly.
"Mother!"
"I'm dead,
Saldusta. Can't you let me rest? Why do you keep calling me back?"
"I don't."
"Why else would I be
here? Do you think I'd come to see you
just for the fun of it?" The eyes
in the corpse moved slowly to fix Saldusta with a cold glare.
She shivered as their eyes
met. "I didn't call you."
"Isn't this what you
wanted? Me all to yourself? Well here I am, girl. I can be the mother you wanted. The one who had no life of her own. I don't know how you made it at all on Qamaljr. What you want is not our way. What you are is not what we are. You don't belong here."
Suddenly Saldusta found
herself on land. She began to
cough. A hand held out her torque. "Here, I fixed it for you. Again."
"Commander?"
Chapel turned and walked
away. "You really need to grow
up. No one cares about you and your
little problems."
"Wait. I don't belong here."
Chapel turned and Saldusta
saw her mother's lifeless face superimposed on the Commander's. Stringy hair floated in the slight breeze as
if underwater. "You don't belong
anywhere, Saldusta. You should never
have been born."
"No!" Saldusta sat up in bed. The torque softly blasted mist at her. "No," she said as she began to cry. "Not again. Please not again." She was so tired. But she forced herself to get up and dress for
the pool. She rubbed her eyes and took
off the torque. She had three hours to
go until she was due on duty. She'd
spend them swimming, or maybe studying the lastest protocols from
Starfleet. Anything but have that dream
again.
---------------------------
Troi heard laughter and
turned over in his bed. "Hi,"
said a small voice.
He sat up. "Hi." The room was completely unfamiliar. As was the small black-haired girl staring at
him with intense black eyes. "Who are you?"
"I'm your
granddaughter. Don't you remember?"
"I don't." Rubbing his had through his hair, he looked
at the young girl. She had changed, her
hair was blonde now and she was older.
"Who are you?"
"No one remembers
me."
He reached for her but she
skipped out of the way laughing.
"I love you,
grandpa." She ran out of the room.
Troi got out of bed and
followed her. He walked out into the
living room of a large manor house. An
elegant gray-haired woman got up and gave him a cheek on the kiss. "Darling, I was so afraid you'd miss us
again."
"Miss you?"
"Yes. We can't wait forever you know. There are only so many opportunities to find
us."
"Find you?" He felt very stupid.
"Or else you'll be
alone." Suddenly everyone disappeared and he was alone in the room. Then he heard the echo of a child's
laugh. Trying to follow the sound, he
turned and saw Penhallon sprawled on a sofa.
"Stephen?"
Penhallon rose and shrugged
his shoulders. "I told you that you
were the kind to settle down. But you
ignored me. Now it's too late."
"No, it can't be."
"You're alone,
Andrew. You'll always be alone."
"No!" Troi woke up with a start. He sat up gingerly and realized he was in his
own bed again. The dream came rolling
back over him. He got out of bed quickly
and went to the replicator.
"Coffee, black.
Hot." When it came, he
sipped it and took out a novel he was reading.
There would be no more sleeping tonight.
--------------------------------
"So, you think you're as
good as me, do you lad?"
Kettering turned to see
Commander Scott standing before him.
"Sir. I'm so glad to see
you. I've got this problem. They want me to take a test."
Scotty shook his head. "You've got more problems than just some
test, Ronald. You've got an engine about
to overload."
Kettering turned and realized
he was in engineering. Every monitor
around the warp core was flashing and a klaxon was blaring in the background.
"Warp core breach in
thirty seconds," the computer offered helpfully.
"What do I do?"
Scotty waved his finger at
him. "You know I can't help you
when you're in the middle of the test.
Really, lad." He crossed his
arms over his chest, staring at Kettering with a disappointed look.
"But I don't know what
to do. I don't know what happened. You can't just test like this. It isn't fair. There's not enough time to figure out what
caused this."
"Everyone else figured
it out." Scotty pointed to a group
of other engineers. They were all
laughing at Kettering, pointing at him.
"It's not fair."
"You want to be me like
me, boy? Nothing is fair then. Nothing.
Now fix that warp core on the double."
"Warp core breach in
five seconds."
"I don't know what to
do," Kettering moaned as he jerked awake.
Oh god, he was going to fail this test.
He just knew it. Dragging himself
out of bed, he sat down at the table and started studying again.
-------------------------------
"Spock? Why won't you help me, Spock?"
"Jim?"
"Spock. I'm not dead.
You know I'm not dead."
"Jim." Spock tried to see through the fog. Kirk's voice lay straight ahead. He started walking.
"Not that way. Don't you know where I am?"
He stopped, searched the unending
gray for some sign of his friend.
"Jim, I am here."
"But where am I,
Spock? Where the hell am I?" Kirk's voice grew frustrated. "You sit there, on your brand new ship
but you're not even looking for me, are you?"
Spock felt his own agitation
level rise, tried to reach for the calm within.
"I did not know that I was supposed to, Captain."
"Spock, it's Jim. Don't you remember?"
"Yes, I remember. Jim, you are dead."
"I don't think I
am."
"Yes, you are. You are here because I have not let you
go."
Kirk laughed, the sound
echoing in the fog. "So it's all up
to you?"
"I believe so. You are a construct of my subconscious
mind. I see you because I have not fully
dealt with your death."
"Bull, Spock. You see me because I'm asking you to come
find me and you aren't even listening."
"You are dead. I mourn your loss, but I must move on."
"Spock, dammit, I'm
holding on but it's getting harder. It's
so much easier to just drift. Then I
forget where I'm supposed to be. Help
me!"
Spock tried to ignore his
pleas. "I understand this. You are a representation of the pain I have
felt...still feel. But as I grow accustomed
to your absence, you deconstruct. It is
logical."
"Forget logic. I don't want to deconstruct. I'm here.
I want to stay here."
"You are often
here. I have dreamed you before."
"No!" Kirk's anger was nearly palpable. "You're not listening. I need your help. Find me, Spock. Find me before it's too late."
"You are not real. I cannot
continue this. I will not—" Spock sat up in bed, fighting for
mastery. The dream had been so real. Jim had seemed so real this time. What if he wasn't dead?
Spock tried to still his
churning thoughts. This was not
logical. Jim was dead. He was not trapped somewhere between life and
death. For to be so was what Spock both
feared and wanted more than anything else.
If he thought his friend were really alive, he would give up the Carter
and spend the rest of his life trying to find him. But that was exactly what he must not
do. Jim was dead. Spock's life must go on.
He could find no fault with
his logic, but his mind would not settle.
He rose and pulled on a robe. He
felt an unaccustomed need for company.
He needed to talk to someone who knew Kirk. He looked at the chrono. She would still be up if she were keeping to
her normal schedule. "Spock to
Commander Chapel."
She was long in answering and
he feared he had disturbed her sleep but when she finally answered she seemed
wide-awake. "Chapel here. Is there a problem, Spock?"
"I...," he suddenly
did not know what he wanted. "Would
you care for some company, Christine?"
There was a significant
pause.
"If this is a bad
time?"
Her voice was gentle, "I
sort of have company."
Spock had a sudden
uncomfortable picture of her and Colonel Kerr and what he might have
interrupted. "I apologize,
Commander. I should not have called so
late."
"Spock, is something
wrong?"
"It is nothing."
"You don't call at this
time of night over nothing."
"I believe I did."
"Can you let me decide
that?"
He recognized the medical
officer in her tone. "I had a
dream. It is illogical to let it disturb
me."
"A nightmare?"
"Vulcans do not have
nightmares.
"Humans do. Did you?"
He decided not to lie. "Yes."
"We'll be right
over."
"You will?"
Her voice was resolved as she
said, "We will." The
communicator went dead and Spock felt illogically relieved that his CMO seemed
to view this as important enough to come over.
You are dead, he thought of
the lingering memory of Kirk's voice.
You are dead and I must let you go.
--------------------------------------
Kerr handed Christine her
shirt. "Is it true he doesn't
dream?"
She shrugged. "I don't know for sure."
"So you've never been in
a position to know how he sleeps?"
She shot him a sidelong
look. "Well, actually he was in
sickbay unconscious enough times for me to get a pretty good idea of how he
sleeps...but that still doesn't give me any insight into his dreams or lack
thereof."
"I get really stupid
about you and him sometimes, don't I?"
She nodded.
"You don't have to
agree."
"Sure I do. That's why you like me." She smoothed his hair off his forehead,
couldn't resist following the touch with a kiss. "Earlier, when I was in sickbay with
Saldusta, she complained about a dream she'd had."
"There's no such thing
as a coincidence in my line of work. Especially not when we've got a planet of
people that look like they haven't slept in a week." He reached for his communicator. "Kerr to Major Collins."
The response was impressively
quick. "Collins, here."
"Have you had any
nightmares?"
"Sir?"
"Bad dreams,
Collins. Have you had any in the last
few days?"
"No, sir."
"Find out if anyone else
has, will you? It's urgent."
"Yes, sir."
Kerr smiled grimly. "No marine is going to willingly admit
to having nightmares. But if any of them
are, Collins will find out. We should
know shortly."
Christine led him across the
hall to Spock's quarters. He answered their
chime at once. There was an
uncomfortable moment as Spock seemed to study Kerr. She felt herself beginning to bristle—this
was not a choice she intended to defend to him.
Kerr's communicator broke the
tension. He reached for it. "Go ahead."
"Sir, five marines
report vivid nightmares. They seem
unusually shook up."
He turned to her. "Do you want them to go to
sickbay?"
She nodded.
"Have them report to the
docs at once. We need to run some
tests."
Christine woke Carpenter
next. "I've got five marines on
their way down to sickbay and I bet they'll have scans worth looking at."
"I'm on my way,"
the other doctor answered through a yawn.
"I'm glad you called. I was
having the worst dream."
"You're not the only
one," Christine said.
Spock waited until she signed
off to ask, "Shall I report there as well, Commander?"
She shook her head as she
pulled out her medical tricorder.
"If I know you, you've had a chance to meditate most of the effects
away."
"Your arrival was not as
alacritous as predicted."
Kerr nodded, "That was
my fault." He seemed to realize how
that sounded and hurried to continue, "Commander Chapel mentioned hearing
a crew member complaining about nightmares.
Given what we'd seen down on the planet, I wanted to check with my exec
to see if anyone in the unit had similar problems."
"I take it you two have
not had any nightmares."
Christine's eyes met Kerr's;
his expression was as guilty as hers.
"But then one would need
to have slept to have a nightmare."
Spock's continued smoothly.
"I understand."
Christine felt a small sting
of resentment. She didn't have to
justify this to him. It wasn't as if she
and Randall had been sneaking around behind his back. She pushed the feeling away. They didn't have time for this.
"So it's definitely a
nightmare?" Kerr walked over to the
replicator, then he looked at Spock.
"Looks like it's going to be a long night, who else wants a raktajino?"
Spock demurred, but Christine
nodded gratefully. He brought the drink
over as she called sickbay. The marines
were just reporting in.
"Let me speak to one of
them, will you?"
Another voice sounded. "Sir, you wanted to talk to me?"
"What's your name?"
"Corporal Ryndwyck,
sir."
Kerr mouthed,
"New."
She nodded
understanding. "It's Commander
Chapel. I don't think we've met
formally, Corporal. Welcome aboard. Can you tell me about the dream?"
"Uh, it's rather
personal."
"Well, compared to other
dreams you've had, how would this compare."
The marine didn't
hesitate. "It was the worst I've
ever had, sir." Her voice was
shaken.
"Are you prone to bad
dreams?"
"Sir, no sir."
"Corporal, I realize
that as a marine on this ship you are in top physical and psychological
form. I'm not contesting that. Do you have bad dreams?"
"Sometimes, sir. But never like this."
Christine decided not to
press her. "Go get checked out,
Corporal."
"Yes, sir."
She turned to the
others. "Something is going on here
and I intend to get to the bottom of it."
"I read your report,
Colonel. An entire population that
appears to be sleep-deprived, and now some of us are experiencing
nightmares." Spock nodded
thoughtfully. "I do not think it is
coincidental that these nightmares are starting so soon after our guests have
arrived."
They shared a look of perfect
understanding. "I don't think so
either," she said as she turned to go.
"I'm going to sickbay. I
want to check out some scans"
Kerr followed her. "I have some marines to debrief."
She looked at him in query.
"Ryndwyck has been
having some trouble settling in. I want
to make sure this isn't just due to stress."
Christine looked at
Spock. "You've been under some
stress ever since Jim died."
For once he didn't try to
hedge but simply agreed, "I have."
"And Saldusta is a ball
of stress. Maybe that's the connection
on who is having the nightmares. But I
still want to know what's causing them."
As she and Kerr walked to the
door, Spock sat down at his computer.
She turned back to look at him and smiled at the familiar sight of him
hunched over his monitor. It was a
relief to know that some things never changed.
-------------------------------
Troi bumped into the door
frame of the conference room, splashing coffee on his uniform. "Damn," he murmured.
"Commander
Troi?" Sovar rose at once. "Are you all right?"
"Of course," he
answered irritably. "Why wouldn't I
be?"
He was surprised to see
Commander Chapel at the table, even more surprised when she got up and scanned
him. "Bad dreams?" she asked
quietly after she glanced at the results.
"You are a master of
understatement, Commander." He took
a seat next to Sovar, nodding at the others at the table.
The Tourmaxian delegation
appeared at the door. Lir took his seat
then looked around at his hosts.
"Slept well, did you?"
Spock fixed him with an
intense look. "That is what we'd
like to talk to you about."
"Where are the
Pesadii?"
"They'll join us a
little later."
"I thought we couldn't
start if both parties weren't here?"
Sovar glanced at Spock before
answering smoothly, "We're not starting, sir. We're just collecting data."
"Well, collect
away. I'll tell you anything you want to
hear."
"That wasn't your story
before," Troi pointed out. "You
haven't seemed to be exactly generous with the information." He sipped his coffee, hoping the caffeine
would perk him up.
Lir shook his head. "Doesn't work. You need something stronger."
Chapel took out the scanner
Carpenter had given her and, keeping it out of sight underneath the table,
scanned Lir and his party. Their
readings were even more elevated than those from the people on the planet. She looked up. "So that's why the dopamine levels were
so high. You've been taking stimulants
to stay awake. But you can't survive
that way. You'll burn out."
"We don't plan to live
without sleep. But you're only here for
a short time and we wanted you to get the full treatment so you'd understand
what we've had to live with. We decided
to deprive those bastards of their food for a while in the hopes that they'd
turn to you. Looks like it worked."
Lir sat back in his
chair. "Imagine how it was for
us. Tourmax was a paradise. It was far more hospitable than the old
Tourmax had ever been. We were happy. We were productive. We built our city and made it beautiful. And then the nightmares started. Just little ones. Mostly in those who had been undergoing
stress for some reason. But pretty soon
it was nearly all of us. Night after
night. The worst nightmares we'd ever
had. If we slept through them we were
drained in the morning. Or we could not
sleep and be exhausted from that. Either
way we were sleep deprived. Take a look
at the accident rate." He handed a
pad over.
Spock looked at it. "The increase is most profound."
"That's a nice way to
put it, Captain. Profound. People died because these monsters were
feeding off our dreams. Were controlling
our dreams. Making us have nightmares
every night. But we didn't know
that. Not at first."
"Nobody saw them. They're nocturnal," Chapel offered. "You didn't know there was someone
behind this."
"Sure didn't. Not till we saw our first Pesadii. Then we understood. Then we knew what we had to do."
Troi looked down. "You began to hunt them."
"Can you blame us? Could you live like this every day of the
rest of your life?" He turned to
Spock. "Could you?"
"I do not
know." Spock scrolled through the
pad. "Hundreds
institutionalized."
"That was the worst
part. People would just crack. One minute they seem okay, and the next
they're gone. We have to keep them on
meds to keep them calm, but the meds make them sleepy. And then they dream all the time. They don't get any break from those
fiends. And they can make the dreams
worse. Make them the most awful dreams
you've ever had." Lir slammed his
hands down on the table. "Let's
hear their side, Captain. I'd really
like to know how they will justify what they've done."
Sovar looked at him. "They will not have to justify what
they've done. It was their planet
first."
Spock nodded. "The best we can hope for is a way for
your two peoples to coexist peacefully, without harm to each other."
"Yeah, good luck with
that." Lir shook his head.
Spock looked at one of the
guards. "Please bring in the
Pesadii."
She nodded and hurried
out. A few minutes later, she led the
delegation in. Once they were settled,
Spock looked at Grrm. "You did not
see fit to mention that you feed off of dreams."
"You did not ask,"
Rixx translated. "The discussions
could not begin until the Tourmaxians sat back down with us. There was no good time."
"Is it the only way you
can feed?"
Grrm seemed to move
uncomfortably. Rixx listened for a long
time then replied, "The planet has been empty for hundreds of years. We do not originate here. We were moving across the galaxy with others
from our planet when we were attacked.
All the ships were destroyed except our vessel. It crashed on what these people now call
Tourmax. But it was a long time
ago. We have been there for thousands of
years, stranded on this world on which we could barely live. There were only the most rudimentary animals. They did not provide sustenance. They did not dream the way we needed. We became weaker and weaker. Finally we slept. We do not sleep, Captain, ever. But we slept.
And we grew weaker even as we slept."
"So you did not register
on the Federation scans."
"That is so. Then the Tourmaxians came. Their life force woke us. Their emotions called to us. Their dreams sustained us. We grew strong. Then we could make the dreams stronger and we
could grow. In time, some split off into
new life. More of us to live. To eat.
We could all live now. There was
plenty of food. All could eat. All could thrive. It was good."
"It was not good!"
Lir shouted. "Those dreams, those
emotions don't belong to you."
"We do not understand
that concept...belong. We belong to each
other. We belong to the planet. Your dreams are there, we can touch them. If we can touch them, we can have them."
"They aren't yours to
have!" one of the Tourmaxian women said fiercely. She turned to Lir. "You heard him. They aren't even native. That changes everything."
Spock turned to Grrm. "I'm afraid it does change
everything. Unless you misspoke."
"I never misspeak,"
Rix relayed. "We are not native but
this is our world now too."
"Not if all you do is
bring harm," Lir taunted. "If
you don't want us hunting you down, I'm sure Starfleet can find a nice post-cataclysmic
world for you to live on."
"We will not move. We need to be near food. We wish to be safe. We have a right to survive."
Spock held up his hand.
"No one is saying yet what either of you will have to do. We will work through this. Talking is beneficial and will allow us to
unearth facts as opposed to emotion. We
may find an alternative there among the facts.
I suggest we go through the list of grievances." He turned to Lir. "Why don't you go first?"
Troi took another sip of
coffee. It was going to be a long day.
--------------------------------
Their first real meeting with
the Tourmaxians and Pesadii had gone very long.
Christine was just settling in at her desk when the chime sounded. "Come."
Penhallon walked in. "Commander, I'm sorry to bother
you."
"Not at all. What can I do for you?"
"I think there is
something that I can do for you."
Christine could feel her
eyebrows rising. "Really?"
"What I'm going to say
is a little unorthodox. But hear me
out." Penhallon sat down across
from her. "We were both in that
room today. We both heard what was
said. And it's clear that there is no easy
solution. Or at least not one that most
of the people in that room will think of."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning, I think I know
the answer."
"You do? Well, if that's true, go tell the
Captain. I'm sure he'll be
thrilled."
Penhallon looked down. "It's the kind of solution we need to
test beforehand. It may sound a
bit...outlandish."
Christine tried not to sigh
in impatience.
"They are feeding off of
our nightmares, right? And they
regularly feed off the Tourmaxians?"
"Feeding and possibly
psychically enhancing the nightmares in order to get an even more intense
rush."
"Yes, well, it's about
that rush...I think there is another way to get it. A way that the Tourmaxians might not find so
offensive."
"I'm not following
you."
Penhallon smiled. "The Pesadii are like little children at
a sleepover."
Christine felt the familiar
annoyance she always did when she had to deal with Penhallon. Could he never just get to the point? She didn't try to hide her impatience when
she said, "And?"
"And what did you do at
a sleepover?"
"I slept. Over.
Really, Commander, I don't have time for this."
Suddenly his fist came down
hard on her desk. "Yes, dammit, you
do. Now hear me out. And help me out. What did you do at a sleepover?"
She held up her hands. "It was a long time ago." At his look she tried to think back. "We did each other's hair. And we played spin the bottle. And we told scary--" Her eyes met his.
"Exactly. You told scary stories. Why?"
"Because it was a
rush."
"Yes. Because it was a rush. Being scared was a huge rush. As we got older we watched scary vids and we
rode on thrill rides in the amusement park all to get that wonderful feeling
being afraid gave us. And then later, we
wanted that feeling to continue. Tell
me, Commander. Would you say there is an
activity that gives you a bigger rush than being scared did?"
She blushed.
"Yes. Exactly.
And both of us are having that rush rather frequently these days,
wouldn't you say?"
"That's really none of
your business."
"It is in this
case. You've been free of nightmares
too. We all have."
"We all? We all who?"
"I've been doing some
discreet snooping. Lt. Kavall and Dr.
Redmoon. Farrell and Ritsuko. My various partners and I. None of us have had the nightmares. You and the Colonel can say that too, can't
you?"
She nodded.
"I think that sex
protected us, worked off our stress, and some chemical that goes along with the
act staved off the dreams enough to prevent the Pesadii from getting control of
our sleep."
She nodded. "That would make sense. Dopamine can inhibit REM in the initial
stages of sleep, which is when REM normally happens. So by the time we got around to
dreaming..."
"The Pesadii weren't
looking anymore," he finished for her.
"But the Pesadii would
figure it out, they'd adjust. Those
having sex would be at risk eventually."
"You're being too
logical and missing my point, which is that we go to the Pesadii and tell them
about sex. Just think, Commander, you
and I tell an entire race about the birds and the bees. Once they taste the rush sex can give, I
guarantee they'll stop looking for scary stories. Plus, if their observation enhances the
experience the same way it does the nightmares...?"
She thought about that for a
second. Then asked, "And if you're
wrong?"
"That's why it's just
you and I that go. I think we can trust
the Betazoid. Andrew speaks highly of
him. And I have a feeling the Pesadii
aren't going to tell anyone, given their natural reticence." He looked at her hopefully. "Come on, Commander. If it doesn't work, Captain Spock will never
have to know. He can keep looking for
his diplomatic solution."
"And if it does
work. Are you going to tell him that we
despoiled an entire race?"
"Hell, no. It'll be our little secret. I'm sure the Pesadii can think of a way to
break it to him."
Her mind was already roaring
along the same track as his. "The
ship was very confined. They felt new
sensations and followed them to the source."
"That would work."
"Let's do it now. Before I lose my nerve." She rose.
"I guess I don't need to ask if you'll find yourself a partner for
the evening?"
He grinned at her. "You're right, you don't need to
ask. But it's nice that you're concerned
for me. Would you have volunteered?"
"In your
dreams."
"Or not. That's quite the point, isn't it?"
She tried not to laugh as she
stood up and walked to the door. Just as
they reached it, she turned so quickly that he nearly walked into her. She put her hand up to stop his momentum and
forced her expression into a scowl.
"For the record, I resent it like hell that it's you who came up
with this, and it isn't going to change how I feel about you."
He put his hand on his heart
and made a face as if to say her statement touched him.
Again she had to fight back
laugher. "Go to hell."
"Only if you'll come
with me, Christine."
"That's Commander Chapel
to you, Penhallon."
"If you insist. But I really feel this is going to bring us
closer."
"Oh, shut up."
"Very well,
dear." He followed her out onto the
bridge.
As they entered the lift,
Christine nearly forgot to assign someone to be in charge. "Sabuti, you have the conn," she
called out as the doors were closing.
The trip to deck two seemed
to take forever. Rixx was just coming
out of his quarters when they left the lift.
"Is there a problem, Commanders?"
Christine tried to give him a
nonchalant smile. "We think there's
a solution for your clients. If you'll
help us talk to them?"
Rixx nodded and was silent
for a moment. Then the Pesadii's door
opened and Grrm stood looking down on her.
She tried not to gulp at his
appearance. "Tell them we think we
have an answer to their problem."
Grrm motioned them all
in. Christine nodded to the other
Pesadii, grateful that the lights were turned down low.
"I am interested in
hearing your proposal," Rixx relayed.
For a moment, Christine was
at a loss as to how to begin. Finally
she looked at Rixx. "Do they know
about sex?"
His eyes got very wide. "What?"
"Sex. Do they reproduce that way? We have no data on them, Mr. Rixx."
Rixx was silent for a moment,
then he shook his head. "They do
not understand the concept."
Christine turned to
Penhallon. "I want you to think of
the best sex you've ever had. Think only
of that."
He smirked at her and closed
his eyes.
"Tell them to focus on
our thoughts. Ask them what they
feel?"
She thought of her nights
with Kerr. Of the different ways they
had found to join their bodies and bring each other pleasure.
"Oh my," Rixx said.
She looked at him. "Is that you or Grrm saying that?"
"Well, all of us
actually." Rixx pointed at
Penhallon. "Did you know he's
thinking of sex with you?"
She slugged Penhallon in the
arm. "Knock it off!"
He grinned
unrepentantly. "You said the best
I've ever had. I should think it would
be a compliment that I imagined it with you."
"It's not. Don't do it again." She turned back to Rixx. "So?"
"We are
intrigued." Rixx moved closer. "Why don't you tell us what you had in
mind?"
--------------------------------
Kerr poured himself a drink
and wondered where Christine was. He
rubbed his eyes and tried to hide a yawn.
He could remember many a mission where he'd had to go without sleep for
extended periods, but he really had no excuse now. He knew Christine was just as tired as he
was. They'd both been burning the candle
at both ends; maybe tonight they should just eat and sleep and hope for no
nightmares from the Pesadii. His door
chimed and he said, "It's open."
"Sorry, I'm late. A last-minute meeting came up." She seemed flustered. And she didn't look him in the eye.
Old jealousies reasserted
themselves. "With Spock?"
She looked up in
surprise. "No."
"You could tell me if it
was." He took a long sip of his
whisky.
"Randall, I would tell
you if it was." She looked away
again.
"I'm not so
sure." He put his drink down and
walked over to her. "Look me in the
eye and tell me where you were."
When she didn't, he gently tilted her chin up until she was looking at
him. "Christine?"
"Oh, dammit. I told him I couldn't lie to you!"
"You told Spock
that?"
"No. Penhallon."
Now he was really
confused. "You were with
Penhallon?"
"Yes."
"And he wanted you to
lie to me about it?" He dropped his
hand. "I thought you detested
him?"
"I do detest him."
"But that's a turn-on or
something?"
Her look at first was
uncomprehending. Then she began to
smile. "You think that I.... slept
with him?" She put her arms on his chest
and met his gaze directly. "I
didn't sleep with him, Randall. But sex
does come into this. Why don't we sit
down?"
He let her lead him to the
couch. She sat at the other end. "Penhallon had this idea about the
Pesadii. It's pretty wild, but it actually
made sense. So he and I met with them to
broach it. But that part is sort of a
secret."
"Why?"
"Because it may not
work, and we don't want to get people's hopes up. Plus, it's genuinely unorthodox."
"And it has to do with
sex? Is this his way of getting you in
bed with him?"
She moved closer to him. "No.
It's actually not about him and me."
"No?" He noticed she was looking at him rather
hungrily. "You and Spock
then?" He teased.
She moved closer. "Not him either." She was practically sitting in his lap.
"Hmmm. Then who?" He pulled her on top of him. "Better be me, Chapel," he said as
he dragged her down for a kiss. Then
another.
"Oh it's definitely
you." She put her finger over his
lips when he tried to kiss her again.
"And this is definitely the idea.
But there's more I have to tell you."
"So talk
fast." He began to unfasten her
uniform.
"Well, we won't be
exactly alone."
His hands stopped
moving. "I'm sorry. I may not have heard that right."
"You did. There will be observers."
"If this is your way of
saying you're bored, it's not the approach that I'd probably recommend."
She leaned down and kissed
him hungrily. "I'm not bored, you
idiot. And it's precisely because I'm
not bored that we're part of this."
She ran her hands under his shirt and kissed him again. "The Pesadii may not have to feed off of
nightmares. There are other activities,
which they happened to be unaware of, that can deliver quite the jolt in terms
of physical reaction."
"And this was
Penhallon's idea?"
She nodded. "The Pesadii liked it though. They want to try it. And it's not like they won't give something
back. The Tourmaxian's believe that the
Pesadii enhance the nightmares, so it's just possible they will enhance this..." She trailed off and looked at him wickedly.
He started working at her
uniform again. "So when do we
start?"
"I'm supposed to think
really hard when I'm ready and they'll pick up the message. I wasn't supposed to tell you, but since you
know, you might want to do it too. That
way you'll be in for the whole ride."
"I just think it? That I'm ready?"
"Think really
hard." She leaned in and kissed
him.
He deepened the kiss and
thought as hard as he could, *All right, you nosy sons of bitches, come and see
what you've been missing.*
Faintly in his mind he heard,
*We are here.* He heard Christine gasp
and realized he'd made the same sound.
Every touch, every kiss was suddenly augmented. It was as if his skin was on fire. He pulled away from her and saw that her eyes
were as wild as he imagined his own to be.
"Don't know what you've gotten us into, doctor..."
"But it looks like it
will be an interesting experiment."
She pulled off his shirt and lightly ran her fingers across his
shoulders and chest.
He sucked in a large gasp of
air at her touch. Her fingers felt like
icy-hot feathers across his skin. Every
place she touched was tingling. He
touched her in the same way and watched as her breathing increased.
"I'm suddenly not very
hungry," Christine said as she lay back on the couch.
"Not for dinner," he
agreed as he kissed his way down her body, removing clothing as he went. "Remind me to buy Penhallon a drink the
next time I see him."
Any answer she was going to
give was forgotten as he found a particularly sensitive place to explore.
Guess we can forget about
sleep for tonight, he thought to himself.
He wasn't sorry at all.
----------------------------------------------------------
Sovar watched his captain
digest what the Pesadii had just told him.
Spock steepled his fingers as he considered this new information, then
looked at Grrm. "You discovered
this new source of energy how exactly?"
Sovar was sure that he saw
Commander Penhallon and Commander Chapel look at each other then look away
quickly. Interesting.
"This ship is very
confined compared to our own world.
Signals are amplified. We noticed
a new sensation and followed it to its source.
The byproducts are more satisfying than those produced by our earlier
method. And perhaps more attractive to
the Tourmaxians if a suggestion for a trial was put forward on our
behalf?" Rixx seemed to be working
very hard on his phrasing.
Troi interjected, "How
do we know it will be more attractive?
What if it makes that particular pleasure into some kind of
nightmare?"
Rixx tried not to laugh as he
translated, "If it had been unpleasant for those engaged in the activity
last night, they would surely have stopped, would they not? Just as those having the nightmares sought to
wake up. But we noticed no cessation of
activity. We of course have no prior
experience to tell if the encounters we observed were normal or more vigorous
than previously experienced."
Sovar was sure Commander
Chapel blushed at this. He saw Spock
glance at her quickly but "I see," was all the captain said. There was a moment of silence, then Spock
said, "I would like to propose this to the Tourmaxians. It may be the answer we have sought."
Grrm bowed. "Thank you, Captain."
Sovar thought he saw
Commander Penhallon smirk. This really
was a most unusual discussion. Sovar
looked around the table. Many of the
participants seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the way things had gone. Humans, he thought, for all their emotions,
were quite prudish. This was an
eminently logical, if somewhat bizarre, solution. Working with Sarek had taught Sovar that the
best solution is often not the one you first thought of, or even the most
elegant. It is the one that at the end
of the day holds the most promise. He
sat back satisfied that he could not think of a better answer than the one that
now lay on the table.
"Please bring in the
Tourmaxian delegation," Spock said to one of the guards.
Lir led his people in and sat
down. "So how did you all
sleep?" he asked with a mean grin.
"We all slept quite
well, thank you," Spock replied. At
Lir's look, he continued. "It would
appear that the Pesadii have found a new source of energy. That is what they wish to talk to you
about. I will cede the floor to
Translator Rixx."
Lir looked at the Betazoid
curiously. Rixx smiled and said, "First,
we wish it known that we did not intend to injure anyone. We regret any harm we may have done. Knowing now that how we feed causes problems
for you, we wish to suggest a new arrangement.
It is one we discovered last night.
While most sleep, some do not.
Some are engaged in vigorous activity.
We were not aware of this before.
In the past, we went for those sources of food with which we were
familiar. It did not occur to us to look
past those for others. It was our way to
feed off the energy of dreams. It had
always been our way. But we seek a new
way and a new way has presented itself.
We have been told the activity is called sex."
Lir sat silent in shock, but
one of his team members said, "You want us to have sex for you?"
"Not for us. But while you do it, we can benefit. And then we do not have to engage in the form
of feeding that you object to so strenuously."
One of the Tourmaxian women
flushed as she asked, "Do you affect the sexual process in the same way
you do the dream one?"
"It is possible."
Sovar saw Commander Chapel
fight a grin. He was relatively certain
Captain Spock saw it too.
"This is an interesting
development," Lir said. "But
it doesn't take away from months of abuse."
"Nor does it excuse
months of slaughter of our people. Our
abuse was an accident. We did not
realize our crime." Grrm held out a
withered hand then let it drop. "We regret that. Perhaps we can work together to help those we
have harmed?"
Lir sat for a moment, then
his expression softened. "Perhaps. We didn't know you were just trying to
survive. Maybe there is another
way. Maybe this is it?" He turned to Spock. "So what now?"
"We will work with the
Federation assessment teams to monitor a trial of this. If it seems a good solution then no further
action will be required. Both of your
species will be able to survive on Tourmax.
If it does not work, then we will resume the discussions in hopes of
finding another solution."
Lir looked undecided.
Commander Chapel spoke
up. "If nothing else, sir, many of
your people will finally get a good night's sleep."
Lir looked at her. She nodded nearly imperceptibly. Sovar thought something seemed to pass
between them, then Lir said, "We'll give it a try. Tonight.
On the planet."
"Then we are adjourned." Spock stood up and the rest followed
suit. Both delegations filed out. Spock looked at his team. "An interesting resolution to this. Quite fortuitous that the Pesadii happened
upon this so precipitously. Wouldn't you
say, Commander Chapel?"
She blushed slightly but did
not look away. "Quite fortuitous,
sir."
Commander Penhallon looked
down, then back up as Spock said, "An interesting protocol question,
wouldn't you say, Commander Penhallon?"
"Sir?"
"I'm thinking of Mr.
Lir's instructions to his people. How
does one encourage an entire populace to engage in sexual activity?"
"I'm sure I don't know,
sir."
"Of course
not." Spock nodded thoughtfully
before saying, "You are all dismissed.
We will reconvene on this only if the trial is a failure."
--------------------------------
Christine was in her office
when the call from Cradash Lir came through the next morning. She hurried out to the bridge. The Tourmaxian was all smiles. She had to stifle a giggle. It looked like he had been one of the
participants in the trial.
Spock was saying, "So
the experiment appears to be working?"
"Works fine as far as we
can tell. The assessment team said they
would monitor for any long-term side effects.
But so far, everyone who participated feels great." He grinned unabashedly. "We're talking to the Pesadii even now
about some of their plans to help those who experienced breakdowns. They have some interesting ideas. And we also thought that maybe eventually
we'd think about inviting tourists here?
You know for R&R or what have you.
Why should Risa be the only place for that?"
"Why indeed, Mr.
Lir. I applaud your ability to put the
past behind you and focus on your future."
"Couldn't have done it
without your help. I'll be putting that
in my report."
"You are most
kind."
"Not at all. Lir out."
The screen went dead.
"Lieutenant Sabuti, lay
in a course for Starbase Six."
"Aye, sir."
"Lieutenant Kimble, warp
five at your discretion." Spock
rose and as he walked past Christine said, "A word with you,
Commander."
She nodded and replied,
"We've created a monster."
He waited until the door
closed before saying, "I don't believe I had very much to do with that,
Christine."
"I don't know what you
mean," she said as she grinned at him.
But her grin faded as she realized he wasn't amused. At all.
He sat down and steepled his
fingers, studying them for a moment. He
did not ask her to sit. "Diplomatic
is my responsibility, is it not?"
She wet her lips
nervously. "It is."
"And yet I was out of
the loop on this one, Commander. Why is
that?"
She looked down. "I'm sorry. I should have told you."
"Yes. You should have." He indicated she should sit down and waited
till she was settled to ask, "Why didn't you?"
She took at deep breath. "I wasn't sure..." She trailed off.
"You weren't sure I
would understand?"
She nodded.
"Why? It seems a logical solution. A race that feeds on the byproduct of dreams
can now feed on the byproducts of sex.
What about that did you think I wouldn't understand?"
"It wasn't that. I just..." Again she found herself floundering for
words.
He sat back in his
chair. "I imagine you had to conduct
an experiment? To see if your theory
would work? Was that what you thought I
might not understand?"
She nodded
half-heartedly. Why hadn't she told him
what they were up to?
"I see. In the future, Commander, you will keep me
better informed. Do I make myself
clear?"
"Yes, sir." She felt like she was a green ensign again as
she stared determinedly past his right ear.
"I'm sorry, sir."
"At ease,
Christine." Spock rose and walked
to the window. He seemed lost in thought
as he murmured. "Things are
different between us now."
"They're not bad."
He turned to look at
her. "The ease is gone." He walked back to his chair. "To expect that over the course of this
mission, we will not make choices that displease the other would be
naïve."
She looked up at him in
surprise. Was this the closest he would
get to saying he was sorry she had chosen another?
"We must learn to work
though this. We must learn to trust each
other in command situations, whatever the nature of our personal
relationship."
"I know. I'm sorry."
"You have said that,
Christine. And I have said my
piece. It _was_ a good idea."
She smiled slightly as she
rose. "Just shaky on the
execution."
"Precisely."
As she neared the door, he
said, "It is reassuring to know that you and Commander Penhallon can work
together so successfully." When she
turned, he raised an eyebrow then turned back to his work.
She left his ready room,
hurrying to her command chair and trying to look like she hadn't been taken to
the woodshed. Or wherever they had just
gone.
FIN
"A dreamer is one who
can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn
before the rest of the world."
-Oscar Wilde