The first course was plomeek<\/i> soup.<\/p>\n
Spock considered what that gesture, the offering of a Vulcan staple, was supposed to mean. The soup was not replicated; one look and one inhalation told him that. The ingredients currently cost a fortune. Was it intended as a compliment, a sign of respect and generosity? Or was the motivation behind the menu less benign? Taking into account the stares leveled at him by the Xinti and Kovaalan guild masters, cunning and cold, he deducted that in this case a bowl of soup constituted a veiled threat instead of hearty nourishment \u00e2\u20ac\u201c a pointed reminder of how powerless the Federation had been to protect one of its founding members.<\/p>\n
Next to him, Jim must have arrived at the same conclusion. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been tense from the start, barely able to hide his intense dislike of such diplomatic functions behind stiff Starfleet formality. Now he focused on the soup with a stony stare, abandoning all pretense at polite dinner conversation. A moment later he started eating without a word \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and without scanning the concoction first for poisons or allergens. He ate slowly, the way he always did. Now and again he paused, savoring the taste with an expression of reverence.<\/p>\n
Only when his bowl was empty, he turned to Spock. His hazel gaze was intense, searing. But when he spoke, his voice was soft, his Vulcan accent perfect. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nam-tor shur temep-sharu na\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tri-sochya.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
Spock felt his heart thud heavily against his ribs. How often had his mother comforted him in her emotional, human way with that proverb and a bowl of plomeek<\/i> soup as a child?<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Soup is the gateway to inner peace.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He picked up the spoon.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Gaila scrutinized the partners for her away mission. Meeting them in person, her impression was even less favorable in person than the one she had gleaned from their public profiles. Their files were just a little too clean, a bit too ordinary. Something was off about them, about both of them. So much so that she had tried to get into their actual personnel files. Without success \u00e2\u20ac\u201c the level of encryption was not of this galaxy. Gaila didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like files she couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t hack into. To have people with files like that on her team made her uneasy.<\/p>\n
Carolyn Paul was a human woman, supposedly a school teacher for extracurricular projects, but listed as a lieutenant with the Sciences Division, Diplomacy & Xenopolitics Department. Ensign Gwaloth Canningham was a tailor in fabrics and textiles replications, working as a Quartermaster. She was also a delicate looking alien. Gaila didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t recognize the species. Why was there no security officer on the team?<\/p>\n
Of course Gaila knew that Commander Paul, the head of the Xenopolitics Department, had put together away teams that would be most effective for secret reconnaissance at Captain Kirk\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s orders, even if that meant splitting up experienced teams. She knew those orders. She even understood Captain Kirk\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s and Commander Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s reasoning. Three women out shopping was about as low profile as you could make an away team. It was a clever disguise, but Gaila didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to like it. In this case, she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like to go on an away mission with what amounted to a civilian in charge to start with. But what she liked least of all about their orders for this particular away mission was that they were not allowed to wear their uniforms. She was now dressed in a glittery Orion tunic with enticing cut-outs. While that costume was not the worst slave-wear traditional among her people, it was close. Too close for her comfort. Additionally, the Denobulans enforced a strict no weapons policy on Pyrithia, so she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d also have to do without the sense of security provided by a phaser set to stun. No, she wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t happy about this away mission. Not at all.<\/p>\n
Gaila turned to Paul \u00e2\u20ac\u201c who was dressed in tight red leather pants and the skimpy kind of tunic that only whores or cheap bodyguards wore on certain planets \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and frowned. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not pretty.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
For a moment, the woman stared at her, taken aback. Then she nodded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes. I have big boobs and I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m fat.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She shrugged. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re green and on hormone suppressants. What\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your point?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Gaila shook her head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not your weight or the form of your breasts I object to. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s fine. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re solid and soft in just the right way. I could go crazy for that. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s your eyes I object to. They are too cold.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Great,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Paul said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Now we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve cleared that up, can we go?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That would be lovely,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Gwaloth put in and twirled in her gossamer robe. The fabric was green as moss, soft as powder. Vulcan yelas<\/i> weave, an incredibly precious fabric now. Around her neck and her hips she wore heavy jewelry, precious metals and gems in hues of green that looked too antique to be replicated. She looked too rich by far to be a crew member of a Starfleet ship. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The Pyrithian fabrics bazaar is about to open. I need to procure certain materials for the textiles and fabrics department that are not available on Earth.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Gaila sighed. Orders were orders. Shopping at the bazaar to collect information might even be fun. Still, she couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t wait to be back on board, putting on her uniform, leaving the past buried in the past.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Once we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re down there,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Paul told her, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153let Gwaloth do the talking. She knows what she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s doing. Keep your eyes and ears open and don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get lost. Oh, and carry her fan.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She thrust a ridiculous feathery something at Gaila.<\/p>\n
A heartbeat later, the bazaar, light-years away from Orion, assaulted Gaila\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s senses and transported her back to a place and a time she never wanted to live through again.<\/p>\n
All those colors. Too many colors. Normal spectral colors in varying degrees of intensity, from colorful Tiburonian brocades to crazy Vissian polyester. Blinding fluorescents and mesmerizing alien hues. Shades she couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even make out, but which made her eyes sting and burn. And the smells. The stink of raw, untreated yarns, the musky smell of Chameloid furs, the acrid tang of freshly died Capellan cloth, the musty scent of second-hand clothing, and the leathery whiff of shoes. The crowds. Customers and merchants milling about, pets under tables, and babies sleeping at the back of stalls. Too much noise. Haggling and shouting in a dozen and more tongues, from Andorian to Xindi.<\/p>\n
Gaila nearly reeled, disoriented with the onslaught on her senses. But Canningham pushed right into the fray, drawing them into a labyrinth of fabrics and textiles. The ensign led them past mountains of Algolian velvet, rolls of Aaamazzarite shrouds, clouds of Xindi chiffon, layers of Ullian linen, around cyan pools of Arrakeen silk, and past piles of accouterments from Idanian scarves to Rigelian necklaces. Obviously, she really knew where she was going. At some point more or less in the middle of the market she slowed down. For some time, she meandered leisurely from stall to stall, until they came to a kiosk where a fat Ferengi squatted in pride of place, acquisitive and robust and eager for business.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Master Kork!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Canningham exclaimed, rushing towards the stocky merchant. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How good to see you again after all this time.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
To Gaila\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s surprise, the Ferengi dropped a kiss on each of her hands before drawing her into a tight embrace. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gwaloth, dearest. My favorite customer from Kohlan to Khosla. It has been much too long. At least four years. I hope they were gainful. \u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Canningham smiled. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Very rewarding indeed, Master Kork, thank you. And how is your business? I expect your acquisitions are as lucrative as always.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The Ferengi smirked. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153You know, my dear: War is good for business, peace is good for business. Business is business. So what can I do for you today?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m looking for desert fabrics and yarns,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Quartermaster Canningham announced, smoothing down her green gown to indicate what she was looking for. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The kind that used to come from Vulcan.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Unobtrusively, Carolyn Paul drifted to her right. To all intents and purposes, the lieutenant was interested in nothing but the next stall\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s merchandise, Andorian fabrics in various hues of blue. But Gaila noticed how closely Paul was watching every person around her, how attentively she was listening to conversations around her.<\/p>\n
The Ferengi gave Gwaloth Canningham a shrewd look. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Wonderful fabrics,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he agreed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153All natural. So smooth. So soft. Never wrinkle, never stain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Another look. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Unfortunately, there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been a problem with production and delivery lately.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Ensign Canningham smirked at the man. Then she turned to Gaila, hand extended. After a stunned second, Gaila remembered the fan and placed it in her hand. The alien fluttered the foppish creation delicately at her face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153However, there are traders who … specialize in similar ware, who have similar expertise. I know if there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s one person on Pyrithia who can get me what I want, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s you.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The V’tosh ka’tur<\/i>,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the merchant said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s who you want.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Indeed.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Canningham caressed her belt purse in a sinuous way. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And I can make it worth your while, Master Kork.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Profit is its own reward,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the Ferengi deflected demurely. But his large eyes glittered with greed. Then he sighed dramatically, dejected. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But I am desolate: I cannot help you, madam. There are none here, haven\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t been for months.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh well.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The Quartermaster shrugged and produced a small PADD. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That is unfortunate. However, I do have need of certain other supplies …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Gaila used the opportunity of the subsequent haggling to stray around the kiosk and check out the other stalls for whatever gossip she could pick up. On the far side of Kork\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s place, she thought she saw a familiar figure out of the corner of her eye. Someone dark and tall. Someone she hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t seen in so long she couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t place him anymore. Uneasiness prickled down her spine. Fear.<\/i> She retraced her steps a little too quickly and hoped that no one had noticed. Paul looked at her questioningly, but she just shook her head. It was probably nothing. Old memories coming back to haunt her at an inopportune moment. When she reached Canningham\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s side again, whatever deals the Quartermaster had been after were dealt and done with. Gwaloth Canningham and the Ferengi merchant were sharing small cups of a hot beverage that smelled like hot mushrooms with chocolate. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So you say I might have more luck at Khosla?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The Ferengi nodded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153They don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like the Xindi and the Kovaalan, those gypsies. There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s bad blood there \u00e2\u20ac\u201c Vulcanoids of any sort don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like to get press-ganged into military service.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ah yes, well. Who does?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Canningham asked, raising her tiny cup in an elegant gesture.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153If the price is right …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The Ferengi shrugged.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Gwaloth Canningham leaned in a little, exposing her breasts enough that the Ferengi sucked in his breath appreciatively. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Talking about Vulcanoids and price … I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not just interested in fabrics, you know. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s all so precious now, Vulcan cloth, Vulcan craftsmanship. There\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s profit there, Master Kork. You of all people know that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Kork groaned, an awful sound of greed and … more. Gaila\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s stomach lurched. But the ensign remained unfazed. Demonstratively, Canningham laid a hand around Gaila\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s neck, the way you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d touch a lap dog or a kitten, and drew her flush against her side, an owner\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s possessive gesture. With a flirtatious swirl of her fan, the woman slid another inch closer to Kork. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How about cheap labor, Master Kork? Should your recommendations pay off, and I acquire access to a regular supply of Vulcan fabrics, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll also need Vulcan laborers to turn those fabrics into pieces of art. You wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t know anything about … that kind of trade, would you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ferengi don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t engage in that sort of commerce,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kork said, drawing his warped morality around him like a mantle. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153When Vulcans were still slaughtering each other, Ferengi were already peaceful capitalists. With a stock market exchange of unrivaled opportunities.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Canningham rolled her eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Do I look like an Orion? I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m an honorable businesswoman trying to establish myself in a niche market. But a prerequisite for profit is expertise. And it would be an act of kindness. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d go from being,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she fluttered her hand meaningfully, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153to being gainfully employed laborers. With benefits, of course. Though I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not sure how I feel about paid vacation.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Oh, you,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the Ferengi cackled, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re worse than my grandson. Sit with me.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Canningham melted into the merchant\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s side. Gracefully, familiarly. And she shoved Gaila onto her knees with a strength that belied her appearance as a frail, female figure. Gaila had about reached the end of her endurance now. But Paul stood at attention three feet away. The lieutenant was so tense that Gaila couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t shake the feeling that there was more at stake here than simple reconnaissance. Then Gaila felt again that prickle of watchful eyes on the back of her neck. She couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get the idea out of her head that if she turned her head, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d see someone lurking there … someone she recognized, someone she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t want to see \u00e2\u20ac\u201c ever again.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That trade,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kork was saying to Canningham now, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153it is not plied here. You need to go to New Sydney for that. If you use your green pet as a ticket, the people you want to talk to should be willing to meet you. And that advice is free, by the way, given to you out of the endless generosity of my gentle heart.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Of course, Master.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Canningham exchanged revolting smooches with the Ferengi and pressed an additional bunch of credits into his lap.<\/p>\n
Then the three of them moved on at last. Slowly, they made their way across the market. The Quartermaster studied the wares of all the stalls with an expert eye. She chatted at least with every other seller, sometimes striking a small bargain on the side, slipping a package of Bandi nets in her bag here, some Lytasian lace or Skorrian feathers there. They hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t come far when Gaila was certain that they were being followed. A glance to her left told her that Paul had noticed it, too.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Fuck.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> Carolyn Paul sighed. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Someone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s interested in us. Gwaloth?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The alien indicated a shake of her head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No one I know.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gaila?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m not sure,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she said softly, affecting a submissive posture at Ensign Canningham\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s side once more. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I … at the kiosk, I thought someone was watching me. Someone who … who knew me. Before. If that is the case, this will go badly if we can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t beam out of here ASAP.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Carolyn Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sharp gaze told her that she knew exactly what Gaila was talking about. Gaila might not have been able to get into Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s files. But Paul had obviously accessed hers. Not many officers on the ship had the clearance to view that part of her files. Why had Commander Paul shared that kind of information with the lieutenant before this mission?<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Damn. If we beam straight back, Gwaloth\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s cover will be compromised. No can do,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Paul muttered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Rats. I seriously lack superhero skills at self-defense. How about you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Gaila shook her head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Just basics. I can dance someone to death, but I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m no good at beating them up. And the hormone suppressants make me slow.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay, this officially sucks,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Paul said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Especially since your friend brought help. We need to get out of sight or we are screwed. Gwaloth can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t shift in the middle of the market.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
A few steps at a time, they strolled down the row and then drifted away from the market, pretending to chat, even affecting giggles, appearing to skip around a corner to disappear into the next lane … fully aware that they were being followed, not just by one thug, but six \u00e2\u20ac\u201c seven.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gwaloth \u00e2\u20ac\u201c ready to go all salt vampire on those guys? That M-113 creature we looked at before?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ewww.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, sorry about that. But somehow I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think those gentlemen want to invite us to share a Cardassian Sunrise in that cozy pub around the corner.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Paul pulled out her comm unit, tapping the button to request emergency retrieval. Then she turned around to face their pursuers. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We only need to stay alive until they can lock on us to beam us up. Think we can manage that?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Gaila didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t reply. She kicked the first goon in the groin with the power and elegance that was the result of many years of dancing. Moaning, he went down on his knees, cradling his bits. Paul rammed her head into an attacker\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s chest. Then she jerked upwards, nearly dislocating the man\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s jaw. That must have hurt her about as much as the guy. Somewhat unsteady on her feet, she whirled around to punch the next assailant right in the eye, index and middle finger pointed straight ahead.<\/p>\n
Behind them Canningham\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s delicate female body writhed and contorted helplessly. Her precious dress split at the seams. Serpentine scales undulated under the fabric, as her humanoid appearance melted into a compact, slug-like shape.<\/p>\n
Carolyn Paul and Gaila put up a good fight. But there were too many opponents, and they were too strong \u00e2\u20ac\u201c professional brawlers at the very least. It didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t take long until one attacker grabbed Gaila from behind, holding her firmly in place, while another did his best to beat her unconscious, quickly, methodically. Paul wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t faring any better. Now it was just a matter of seconds until it was all over …<\/p>\n
Suddenly a huge, hairy creature tore the man away who\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been holding her captive. Gaila got a glimpse of sagging folds, yellow eyes, and an inverted snout. With a roar, the beast bared several sharp, ivory fangs. The last thing Gaila saw before the white swirls of a Transporter beam obscured her vision was the creature grasping the face of one of their attackers with three sucker-like fingers.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Somehow Carolyn managed to lurch down from the transporter pad. In that weird haze that precedes a faint she recognized the waiting medic. The CMO in person \u00e2\u20ac\u201c Jo\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s dad.<\/p>\n
Now that wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t how she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d wanted to meet that man. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d hoped he would show up for her office hours one day so she could tell him how well his daughter was doing, how the girl was flourishing on board of the Enterprise. Or perhaps at the upcoming parent-teacher conference, where she intended to show off some of the creative projects Jo\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s class was working on at the moment. Damn.<\/i><\/p>\n
Her knees buckled. As if in slow motion, the floor was sliding up to her. She collapsed at his feet. There was time to think that his shoes were very very shiny. Then sick hallucinations of mounds of fabric turning into quicksand swallowed her whole.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
When Carolyn woke, she found herself nose to nose with a furious Doctor McCoy. He had very beautiful dark green eyes.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You were supposed to go shopping down there. Play with pretty clothes and shiny fabric, not get yourselves beaten up within an inch of your lives!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he snarled.<\/p>\n
She blinked. Her body … so heavy. She couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t move at all. And she was so warm. Inside out. Outside in. As if she were floating in a tub full of liquid, warm chocolate. Gooey. Good. He really had the prettiest eyes.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Damn, girl! Do you realize that the only reason you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not dead is because those goons didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t actually mean to kill you?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant Paul,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she managed. She may be twenty-three years old, but she wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t a girl; hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t been one for a long time. And she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d bet her life \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and Gaila\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s and Gwaloth\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s \u00e2\u20ac\u201c on the idea that those thugs hadn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t wanted to kill them then and there. She was kind of glad that had worked out.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Right. Then let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s start at the top, Lieutenant Paul. A concussion. Broken nose. Fractured cheekbone. Chipped teeth. All mended now, and your teeth are way prettier than before. Moving lower: a nearly dislocated shoulder, a cracked rib, bruised kidneys thanks to blunt trauma on the right side. The bone\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s fixed, but you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll be sore as hell for a couple of days. Oh, and of course, sprained fingers, with four nails torn straight off. Manicure will be a bitch for the next twelve weeks or so, I can promise you that. The regeneration of nails is hell on the nervous system. Not to mention assorted hematoma and lacerations. What the hell were you thinking?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I was hoping that Wraiths could shapeshift a bit faster.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t do that next time!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Such beautiful eyes. Stubborn chin, too. She also kind of liked his hair, all ruffled and dark and soft. Noticing a man that way wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like her. Especially not a man she didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even know. Most especially not a father of one of her students. That was … that was … unpo\u00e2\u20ac\u201d<\/i> unprofessional. And she felt so drowsy and warm and melty … Whoa, she must have been in a bad way indeed if they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d had to drug her up to her gills like that. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sorry, Doc. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll try.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s what they all say,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he told her, disgusted. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And then they clutter up my sickbay all over again.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How are Gaila and Gwaloth?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Alive.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Her expression must have given away how that one word felt like another punch into the stomach. The doctor\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s frown softened. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Gaila was not quite as banged up as you \u00e2\u20ac\u201c she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a twisty little thing with all of that dancing she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s been doing. Gwaloth\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s just fine; she only needs to watch her salt intake for a while. Apparently there are some shapes that are harder on a Wraith\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s constitution than others. So no more turning salt vampire for her in the near future. And now,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d McCoy raised a stern finger, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153you go back to sleep. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve got some healing to do yet before I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll let you out of here.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
The captain was not pleased. The forbidding expression of the first officer at his side was not precisely encouraging, either. Not even taking into account that he was Vulcan and was therefore supposed to look unemotional and cold.<\/p>\n
Carolyn swallowed dryly and stood at attention just inside the captain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s office, ignoring the pangs of her barely healed injuries. No surprise there. Of course Kirk was angry after how that away mission had gone down. And she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d get chewed out by her dad later on in private, on top of this pleasant conversation. Awesome.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153What the hell<\/i> happened down there, Lieutenant?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Captain Kirk growled from behind his desk.<\/p>\n
She tried to focus on the wall above the captain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s left shoulder instead of his blazing hazel-green eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I led an away team down to the grand bazaar of Pyrithia, the fabrics and textiles market. Quartermaster Canningham has a contact there, a Ferengi informant, Master Kork. Posing as an independent entrepreneur of considerable means, Quartermaster Canningham approached Master Kork in the company of Lieutenant Gaila, who was disguised as an Orion slave girl, and myself dressed in the livery of a common bodyguard. Canningham was able to gain some salient details pertaining to the V’tosh ka’tur <\/i>and the\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t face the first officer and dropped her gaze to the ground, concentrating on the tips of her shoes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153The slave traders specializing in Vulcans these days.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Great.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d The captain didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sound thrilled. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What went wrong?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Unfortunately, Lieutenant Gaila was recognized by an Orion trader. He decided to get back his lost possession, with … interest. We couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t risk beaming up straight from the market, or Canningham shapeshifting then and there. That would have compromised her cover. We had to get out of sight.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She hesitated. Then she drew a deep breath and looked up, meeting the captain\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s furious gaze. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Lieutenant Gaila and I have only basic hand-to-hand training, sir. There were seven of them. And it took a little longer than I hoped for Canningham to shift into a salt vampire.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153So far, so good. Shit happens,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Kirk said, his voice dangerously soft. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t get is how a school teacher<\/i> and a tailor<\/i> got the idea for an undercover adventure into their heads in the first place. And why you have a Ferengi informant on an unaligned planet outside of Federation space. Or why you believed you didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t need a security team as back-up. Also, while the execution of away missions is generally at the discretion of the officer in charge, that rule in the handbook refers to standard <\/i>missions. Not to clandestine shit like this one! You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re a lieutenant with Sciences Division. You should be aware of the fact that in a case like this one not just the relevant superior officer must be informed, but the commanding officer. Me.<\/i> And there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a good reason for that, too. Because with this kind of mission? If it goes pear-shaped, it may well affect the safety of the entire ship!\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He sucked in a deep breath with an irritated hiss. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And last but not least, let\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not forget the officer in charge of this mission. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s listed in the database as teacher for extracurricular activities. Like creative writing workshops and stuff like that. Her qualifications in xenopolitics and diplomacy show up only in small print. And her file is interesting mostly because of all the things that are very obviously not<\/i> in it. Anything you want to explain about that, Lieutenant?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Carolyn bit down on her lower lip. Hard. The easy way out would be to fall back on her orders. Let her father field the fallout. That was his job, after all. But taking into account the Marcus conspiracy, she suspected that would just make things worse. She couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t ignore how the situation must appear to Kirk of all people. Her file locked up so tightly that not even Gaila had been able to hack into it. Her father sending her on an undercover mission that simply screamed Section 31. She could only hope that the information they had gathered was worth this shit storm \u00e2\u20ac\u201c and blowing her cover now. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153What do you want to know, Captain?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Everything.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153This … this will be a lot easier if I unlock my file for you, Captain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Without a word, he turned the screen on his desk and shoved the keyboard at her. Her file was already on display. With a deep breath, she called up the login page and entered her password. Then she turned the screen back to the captain and the first officer.<\/p>\n
She tried not to think of the contents of her file. Of the pictures she knew were in there. Tried very, very hard. Didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t succeed. She went back to staring at the wall.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Well, hell,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the captain said at last and pinched the bridge of his nose. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153It seems you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re very lucky to be with us at all, Lieutenant. But considering your complete file, I can only wonder once more: What the hell were you thinking, pulling a crazy stunt like that down there, three young women without any security?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153If Kork had gotten a whiff of Starfleet, he wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have talked to Canningham. It was a necessary risk.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She inhaled a shaky breath. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And if we get those bastards,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she whispered, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153a few broken bones are a small price to pay.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You are emotionally compromised by the mission at hand, Lieutenant,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d the first officer said, his voice strangely gentle. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And Captain Kirk is right. You shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have left the ship. In fact, you shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t be on the ship in the first place.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d she muttered, before she could stop herself. Remembering who she was talking to, she straightened, standing at attention once more, various aches and pains notwithstanding. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, sir, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m aware of that. I know that I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m the only one still alive who can recognize and identify Councilor Gav and his collaborators. The one witness who can link slave trade in Federation space with the Tellarite councilor and the Federation Council itself. But I can testify only if this investigation is successful. If we secure sufficient evidence to satisfy the Federation Supreme Court. If we figure out exactly how they operate and who is involved. Where the money comes from, where the money ends up. Sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The captain was still scrolling down through her file, stone-faced. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153She is safer here than on Earth, Spock, or anywhere else in the Federation for that matter,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said with a nod at the screen. Then he looked back at her, shaking his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Minus shit like such undercover missions, of course.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We … I didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t expect any problems. It was supposed to be safe \u00e2\u20ac\u201c meeting Gwaloth\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s \u00e2\u20ac\u201c Ensign Canningham\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s acquaintance. Merely a matter of blending in and getting facts, sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d She took a deep breath and straightened up once more. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That is <\/i>my job, sir. I may suck at fighting, but I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m actually trained to do what I did down there. Go in and get info and come back alive. Sir.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
The captain nodded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I get that, Lieutenant Paul. But you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re no good as a witness if you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re dead. So none of that, from now on. Even if you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re Section 31. While you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re on this ship, you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re my responsibility. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m in charge here, not Section 31. And I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m damn sick of this secret shit. You may go, Lieutenant.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He leaned over and pressed a button on his comm unit. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Rand, get Commander Paul into my office. Now.<\/i>\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Remind me never to say anything about how easy a layover is going to be in advance,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim ordered. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Ever again.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
What with Lieutenant Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s debriefing and the following discussion with her father, Jim was too wound up with anger and adrenaline to contemplate sleep. He was prowling his cabin and office like a panther his cage. Spock, obviously determined to stay until he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d gotten it out of his system, had stationed himself next to the connecting door. He was standing a step out of the way, hands clasped at his back. Attentive. A certain tension around his eyes betrayed that he was not happy with how the day had gone, either.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The probability that an incident would come to pass was comparatively low based on the information at our disposal when we entered orbit,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock said mildly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I initially estimated the risk of a significant crisis would not exceed a statistical likelihood of 34.5% \u00e2\u20ac\u201c or I would have made my concerns known.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have warned me. I know. And you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re pissed that information was kept from us,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim translated. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Me, too.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Another trip around the desk. The problem right now was that he had time<\/i>. Time to be angry. Time to think, and time to worry. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d reach New Sydney in seven days, round about noon on stardate 2260.175. An acute crisis would have been easier on him. It would have forced him to keep his act together, to keep going, no matter what. This, however? Sticking to normal shipboard routine, having to make sensible plans after the kind of revelations dumped on him today was much harder.<\/p>\n
He went over to his living area and slumped into an armchair. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sit with me, Spock.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Without a word, Spock moved to the other chair and settled gracefully into the ovoid shell of the lounger.<\/p>\n
Jim tilted his head back and closed his eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even know what I hate most about all of this.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Creating a list of irritants according to decreasing intensity isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t a necessary prerequisite for a comprehensive analysis of a complex situation.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim huffed, amused. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Top ten lists of stuff I hate about any given situation help me think.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t even have to look at Spock to know that his reaction was a delicately raised left eyebrow. Warm affection flooded him, and his mind cleared a little as his anger simmered down. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Okay, I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll give it a stab. Section 31\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He stopped abruptly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No, actually. Not Section 31. Those damn bastards<\/i>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He took a deep breath and opened his eyes. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Slave trade in the Federation, and a member of the Federation Council involved. And a kid<\/i> ends up …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Lieutenant Paul had probably broken a dozen regulations or so when she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d unlocked her file for him. He wasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t sure exactly how many. Spock would know. Jim appreciated the gesture of trust. So far he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d taken file-locking as a convenient means to protect his own privacy and an insult to his curiosity where other files were concerned. Now he was willing to accept that in some cases personnel files better stayed locked up, good and tight.<\/p>\n
After university, Paul had worked as an intern with PATS \u00e2\u20ac\u201c Planets Against Trafficking of Sentients. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s how it all had started. A smartass kid with ideals. She\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d picked up on some leads, put things together with that outrageous intuition most people lose with experience. When she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d gone on to work for the Federation Council as a junior aid with the Diplomatic Corps, she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d kept working on her pet project on the side. And then she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d hit dirt. Oh boy, had she ever.<\/p>\n
Ambassador Gav liked his playthings young and submissive. That such a girl might be more than she seemed had occurred to him much too late. It was extremely unfortunate that it had occurred to him at all. Only the greed of Gav\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s collaborators had saved Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s life then. Instead of killing her, they\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d sold her. And no matter how much Jim objected to Section 31, those guys protected their own. They\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d tracked Paul down and retrieved her. Jim shook his head. She must have been just down the floor from him at Starfleet Medical.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153… Jesus.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
It was telling that Spock didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t comment on this illogical and very human epithet. The whole thing bothered him, too. No wonder, with the current \u00e2\u20ac\u0153high risk\u00e2\u20ac\u009d rating from PATS for Vulcans.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Thing is, while I get that it was mostly bad luck how Pyrithia went wrong on her, the whole thing\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s now my responsibility.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock opened his mouth, probably to remind him of the nuances of the chain of command regarding his position as the captain of the Enterprise and Commander Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s as the officer in charge of the relevant Section 31 investigation. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Spock, it is. My ship. My people. And she trusted me with all that shit. She didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have to. Plus, emotional compromise \u00e2\u20ac\u201c I need to stop seeing fathers look absolutely gutted over the stunts their kids pull on this ship.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Under ordinary circumstances I doubt that Commander Paul would have been given the responsibility for this particular operation,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock commented.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Bloody Marcus,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim muttered. In the wake of the Marcus conspiracy, Section 31 had become the object of intense scrutiny. Taking into account Ambassador Gav\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s connections that didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t bode well for Lieutenant Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s safety. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I certainly don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t blame Commander Paul for fighting tooth and nail to stay head of that investigation and then getting his kid the hell away from Earth, emotional compromise be damned.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim rubbed both hands over his face. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153One thing is sure: she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not going on any more undercover missions.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I do believe that contrary to his assertions, her father appreciates your insistence in this matter.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock rose to his feet and went over to the replicator. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Would you like something, too?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153You getting one of those tea things?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock nodded.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yes, please. Not the spicy one, though \u00e2\u20ac\u201c makes me break out in hives, and we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not done here yet. No time for lolling around sickbay.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t expose you to any allergens knowingly, Captain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d That tiny, indignant flare of his nostrils was kind of adorable.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Jim,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he reminded. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re off duty.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153But we are discussing ship\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s business.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim rolled his eyes. Five minutes later he curled his fingers around a hot mug of peppermint tea and inhaled appreciatively. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153So, New Sydney. I have a really bad feeling about that place. And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s without Lieutenant Paul\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s pet Ferengi telling us that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s the place to buy Vulcan slaves in this sector. I mean, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s already listed in the official<\/i> Starfleet handbook as a stronghold of the Orion Syndicate. Now Commander Paul says the local agent hasn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t checked in for a while. With field agents that may not be unusual, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not exactly what makes me get the warm and fuzzies.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Master Kork seemed to think that cultivating the appearance of a competitor in the trade would ensure access to the target subjects.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock took a delicate sip from his Vulcan spice tea.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, I know. But you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ve seen Gaila. I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t think she can pull that off. We\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re not letting Paul down there. And Canningham may be able to shapeshift into anything from a rock to an Orion dancer, but she\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s no actor. She doesn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t have the slang. So I don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t really see an option for another undercover mission …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Taking into account the current PATS risk assessment for my species, it would be logical for me to pose as decoy,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock suggested evenly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Perhaps my presence would also provide enough reassurance for Lieutenant Gaila to\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim put down his mug with clank. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153No.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Considering the circumstances, it is a logical\u00e2\u20ac\u201d\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Captain, your reaction is irrational. You cannot allow emotions to interfere with a mission that may be vital for the success of such a crucial investigation,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock objected. His expression was devoid of any hint of warmth now, his eyes filled with cold determination.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153No,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim repeated a third time, jumping to his feet. Spock rose from his seat, too. They stood just a foot apart, and Jim … Nausea and vertigo tore at his self-control. Lessons in emotional compromise sucked big time. He knew very well that one day soon he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d have to send Spock into mortal danger. So that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s how it would feel when it came to that. Like a black hole opening right at his feet. He didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like the feeling. At all. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sorry, Spock. But no.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Instinctively, he moved yet another step closer. He took in Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face, the determined set of his jaws, the shadows of stubble at the end of a long day, the annoyed flare of his nostrils, the hint of anger lurking in those dark, dark eyes, the tension drawing up sharply slanted eyebrows. Jim inhaled deeply, fighting the urge to focus on those lips, so kissably close.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153We both know that I am emotionally compromised where you are concerned,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said softly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153But you should also know that I can still do my job. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll always want to say no when I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m about to send you into danger. But I won\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t. And that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not why I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m saying no now.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Explain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Canningham pretended she was looking for cheap Vulcan labor with the Ferengi because that works with a Ferengi. They don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t like slave trade, those guys. But they are all about profit. New Sydney …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim grimaced. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153New Sydney isn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t about that kind of slave, Spock. They don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t allow slaves near any type of heavy machinery and nowhere close to their precious pergium. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s why Kork told her to use Gaila. It\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He swallowed past the sick feeling constricting his gullet. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153… New Sydney is where you buy sex slaves.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock stared at him, uncomprehending. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153How would that impact my mission?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
If Jim had allowed himself to imagine a conversation about sex with Spock, one thing was sure: this was not how he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d dreamed it up. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Spock … Please forgive me. But there is no way I can make my point without making propriety run away screaming.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock raised both eyebrows at that wonky metaphor. But obstinate Vulcan that he was, he wouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t back down without a satisfactory explanation.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153How much experience do you have?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim asked, as bluntly as he could. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Sexual, I mean.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock was visibly taken aback \u00e2\u20ac\u201c to the point where he shifted his body weight as if he wanted to take an actual step backwards. But then he replied, his voice level and completely without reflection. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have shared expressions of physical affection according to human traditions with Lieutenant Uhura, as you are well aware.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, I know. Hugs and kisses. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not what I mean. Sex, Spock. Have you ever had sex?<\/i>\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153I have experienced three orgasms in my life thus far,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock said. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Once at sixteen. Such manifestations of biological maturity are natural and found among Vulcans and Humans alike. After the first such experience, Vulcans are taught how to control such bodily functions. In my case it was necessary to demonstrate said functionality to the medics overseeing my physical development. Hence the second time.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
I must not project,<\/i> Jim thought. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m Human. He\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not. Or only half. And mostly Vulcan in upbringing. Must not. Project. Dammit.<\/i><\/p>\n
He swallowed hard. He knew he shouldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t, but he couldn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t help himself. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And the third time?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Spock gazed at him, his pupils so wide his eyes appeared completely black. If Jim didn\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t look away now, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d do something stupid. He lowered his eyes. Another mistake. Those lips. Wide and sensual and so fucking beautiful.<\/i> A breath away from a kiss, Jim hesitated. He could feel the heat of Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s mouth, and oh god, Jim wanted him so much it bloody hurt. <\/i>But he drew back.<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Spock,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he said carefully, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m trying real hard not to mix up personal stuff with business here, but it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s kind of hard. See, in Human terms … you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re a virgin. And yeah, I get that this is all different for Vulcans, and Human standards don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t apply, and they are probably stupid anyway. But you know what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not stupid? That an individual\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s sexual intimacy is safeguarded if at all possible.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He shook his head. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153… and even discounting my irrational Human hang-ups, there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s no way you can pull off that role convincingly without any practical experience. You\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d blow the cover of the team within five minutes because you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d react the wrong way, superior Vulcan control or no.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim recognized stubborn when he saw it, even if it was just a hard gleam in dark eyes, so he went right on, \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Before you get any ideas about using your \u00e2\u20ac\u201c your innocence as bait, I can tell you right now: not happening. Depending on the mission at stake there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s a limit to what\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s acceptable as risk or personal sacrifice, in terms of safety and psychological health, but also regarding an individual\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s ethics and culture. That limit? In this case, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s it, right there. That\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not my emotional compromise talking, either. If you don\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t believe me, we\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll go wake Doctor McCoy so he can declare you unfit for that mission. And trust me, he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122ll do that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
A long moment of silence. Heavy heartbeats measured the passage of time and did nothing to dissolve Jim\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s tension, desire and apprehension and possessiveness and tenderness all mixed up and ready to explode<\/i>. Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s face was a mask of perfect control. Jim had no idea what he was thinking now, what he was feeling now \u00e2\u20ac\u201c if he was, if he allowed himself to.<\/p>\n
At last Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s posture relaxed almost imperceptibly. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I accept your reasoning, Captain.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
Jim exhaled with relief. He wanted to say something else, but Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s gaze stopped him. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153And …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Spock shifted, leaning in this time, close enough that Jim could feel his body heat. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153… I appreciate your wish to protect my … my privacy \u00e2\u20ac\u201c me. Jim<\/i>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Yeah, that\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s me, defender of your innocence,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Jim muttered. He faced Spock as honestly as he could, no matter that he was flushing with an intense surge of heat. By now he must burn beet-red up to his ears. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153I meant what I said, Spock. Every word. I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m absolutely certain it would go wrong. And the line I\u00e2\u20ac\u2122m drawing in terms of personal risk in this case, it\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s not about …\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He raised his hand in the narrow space of warm air between them. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153… not about that. But I can\u00e2\u20ac\u2122t say there\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s no personal level to this. And that level?\u00e2\u20ac\u009d He sucked in a deep breath, the scent of hot skin, a hint of spice. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153That level is all human macho shit.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
He put his arms around Spock, pressed against his body, hard. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153If you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re willing to push the boundaries of Vulcan culture, if you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re really willing to risk that kind of intimacy, I want you to do that with me \u00e2\u20ac\u201c for us. Not for some harebrained undercover mission.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
And then he claimed the kiss he\u00e2\u20ac\u2122d been dreaming of for weeks now. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mine,\u00e2\u20ac\u009d he whispered against Spock\u00e2\u20ac\u2122s lips. \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Mine. I want you to be mine<\/i>.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153The story of human intimacy is one of constantly allowing ourselves to see those we love most deeply in a new, more fractured light. Look hard. Risk that.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d
\u00e2\u20ac\u201c Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things<\/i><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6\u00e2\u2122\u00a6<\/p>\n
Author’s Notes<\/b><\/p>\n
\u00e2\u20ac\u0153Nam-tor shur temep-sharu na\u00e2\u20ac\u2122tri-sochya.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d<\/i> \u00e2\u20ac\u201c \u00e2\u20ac\u0153Soup is the gateway to inner peace.\u00e2\u20ac\u009d Based on a translation question at the Vulcanlanguage Tumblr (which is absolutely awesome if you\u00e2\u20ac\u2122re into fictional languages; really, do take a look!): http:\/\/vulcanlanguage.tumblr.com\/post\/39859826510\/question-about-translation<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" A New, More Fractured Light Stardate 2260.164, 2100 hours, Guildhall, Pyrithia The first course was plomeek soup. Spock considered what that gesture, the offering of a Vulcan staple, was supposed to mean. The soup was not replicated; one look and … Continue reading