STAR TREK: Shifting Sands

CHAPTER 1

I quickly looked around and then darted into the brightly-lit corridor. It was empty, as I had expected, but I had no way of knowing how long it would stay that way. On a ship as large as this, no area would stay clear for long.

Quickly walking along the hallway, I read the door numbers. A few seconds later, I paused and hit a few buttons on the panel. Apparently, I had found the one that I was looking for. The door slid open with a whoosh and I stepped inside.

Once inside the darkened room, I glanced around. Quickly, my eyes grew wide as I surveyed my surroundings. Something was wrong. The area was much larger than I had expected, and was furnished with couches and a table, among other things. Through the large windows, I could see the space station and the stars beyond. Slowly, the reality dawned on me: I was in the wrong room. I was in somebody's quarters.

Trying to fight down panic, I closed her eyes and remembered the map of the ship that I had acquired. It had clearly marked this room as a storage cabinet, of that I was sure. I had planned my entire strategy around this room.

I cursed the man who had sold me the statistics; the Napean had obviously known that they were incorrect. Right now, however, revenge was the least of my problems. At the top of my list was getting out of here without being thrown in the brig, or worse. I had heard that Federation officers weren't as harsh as Cardassians or Romulans, for example, but I wasn't quite ready to test that theory.

I hurriedly turned back toward the door. I never made it out. As I was approaching it, I heard voices from outside. Then the door began to slide open. Panic filled me, and I did the first thing that came into my mind. Without warning, I was gone. In my place sat a yellow, tiger-striped cat.

The door opened, and behind it stood two men.

"The diagnostic won't be done until at least...1900," stated one of the men. "There's not much we can do until it's complete."

"Alright, but the Captain won't like it if it holds up our departure."

"I'll do the best I can, but if some of the relays are fried it'll take until tonight to fix."

"Just do the best you can."

"Yes, sir."

One of the men departed, but the other turned and entered the quarters. Slowly, the cat–me–retreated, the fur on its back raising as it did so.

It was then that the man noticed me. Staring at me, he stopped walking.

"What the hell?" he asked. I stared up at him. He was just as, if not more, surprised as I was. This gave me some small degree of comfort. I was still terrified of him, but I had a greater change of getting away if he was caught off-guard as well.

"How'd you get in here?" he asked, crouching down so he was closer to me. I hissed at him, and continued to back away. My mind was cycling through options, dismissing each as it came along. I could attack him and dart out, but he looked strong and he would probably end up hurting me. I could always turn into some microscopic creature and get away that way, but the last thing that I needed was for them to know that there was a shape-shifter on board. Right now, I was just a cat.

The man paused, studying me. I studied him back. I decided that he was in his mid-thirties, but his age was hard to guess. He had a short beard around his face. As my eyes moved down to his clothing, I started. The man had three complete pips on his collar, marking his rank as Commander. With all likelihood, he was the first officer of this ship.

As I studied the man, I assessed my situation. Experience had taught me not to trust anyone, and I wasn't about to let my guard down now. This man was a complication in my already shaky plan, a potentially fatal one.

Slowly, the man reached his hand toward me. I backed away slightly, unsure as to his intentions. He stopped a few inches from me, his face unsure.

Realizing what he was doing, I gently sniffed his hand. It was what was expected, and one could actually learn a lot about a person because of his smell. He smelled like a mixture of soap and some sort of cologne. It was actually pleasant. Also, he smelled faintly of fear. Not the terror that came with fear for one's life, but another kind of fear. Of me?

I backed away, and the man withdrew his hand. He looked slightly relieved, like he had passed some sort of test. I might have laughed if I hadn't been so frightened, and if I hadn't been a cat. This man had obviously never been around cats before, or at least not very nice ones. That was why he was afraid.

"Well, at least you're not like Spot," the Commander said. "What's your name anyway?"

I acted like I didn't understand, which was something that had become very good at. I'd had practice. Plus, it didn't exactly matter if he knew what my real name was, which happened to be Tasha.

"Your fur looks like..." the Commander paused, gazing at me. A strange look entered his eyes. A moment later, he said, "I think I'll call you Tasha."

I started despite herself. How did he know that? He wasn't a Betazoid, I knew that because of my research of the ship's crew, and even if he had been, I had had much practice shielding my mind from them.

"Don't you like it? Well, I guess you won't be staying here long enough to learn it. I'm going to find out where you came from."

The Commander stood up. I backed away, watching for his next move. He didn't seem like an exactly volatile individual, but you never could tell. He could still try to hurt me.

I continued to watch him as he sat down at the table and started to research something on a data pad. A few minutes later he looked up at her, obviously perturbed. I stepped back slightly, readying herself to flee.

"Are you scared of me?" the Commander asked, smiling and frowning at the same time. I didn't move. The Commander leaned down from the chair until he was near the floor. He held out his hand to me again. "Come on," he said.

I paused, my mind still working. Slowly, against my better judgment and everything my mind was telling me, I stepped towards the man.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he said. Maybe he was telling the truth. Human seemed to have more love for animals than, say, Klingons or Cardassians.

I continued to slowly walk towards him. I paused just out of his reach, still staring at him. I had never before been in such a compromising position with someone. True, I had been in multiple brigs, but this was different. There, I hadn't had a choice on what to do. Here, I had a decision to make: whether to trust this man or not.

Making up my mind, I quickly darted past the man and climbed up on his couch. From there, I could watch him without being near him.

"Well, you're not from this deck," he said, rising and returning to his computer. If I would have had to name the expression on his face, I would have called it disappointment. Well, it wasn't my fault that he had a low self-esteem when it came to cats. "So unless you know how to use a turbolift, I'd say that you have to be from the station."

I stopped, assessing this new turn of events. It would be relatively easy to find out that no one on the station had a cat matching my description, or at least not one that was missing. And then he would begin to wonder. What would I do then?

I'd be gone by then. He'd think that I'd gotten out the same way that I'd gotten in. And he wouldn't go looking for me, of that I was sure. Why should he?

Just then the doorbell rang. I stiffened, my fur rising again as I stood. The Commander rose and crossed the room to the door, which opened.

A white man stood there. His skin wasn't the usual peach color of those we call white, it was actually white. He looked like an albino except for his eyes, which were a dull shade of yellow. His uniform was yellow, and the pips on his collar marked him as a Lieutenant Commander.

I immediately recognized him as Data, the only android in Starfleet. The only android in existence. I had heard of him often, sometimes in a good light and sometimes in a bad. As bad mostly by enemies, or at least not allies, of the Federation.

"Commander, I was wondering if you would be attending my poetry reading tomorrow tonight," the android asked, standing stiffly in the doorway.

"Of course, Data," the Commander said. I could tell by his expression that he was bluffing. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Thank you, Commander, I appreciate you attending."

The Commander smiled and slapped the android, Data, on the back. "My pleasure, Data."

"Thank you, sir." Data turned to go.

"Wait a minute, Data," the Commander said. He turned towards me. I froze, wondering what this had to do with me. "This cat showed up in my quarters a little while ago, and I can't figure out where it came from. I was wondering if you could keep it until I find out who it belongs to. I'm not much of a cat person, and I thought that it could keep Spot company."

"I would be happy to take it," Data said. He approached me, and I backed up slightly. I had no desire to go with this man, just as I had no desire to stay here. From where I was now, I knew how to get back to the station. I didn't even know where Data's quarters were.

As Data approached, I hissed sharply, baring my teeth as I did so. I knew that I couldn't hurt an android, but maybe he wouldn't take me if I didn't want to go.

I was right. Data paused and turned to the Commander, who was standing by his side.

"I do not believe that she wishes to come with me," he said.

"Yeah," the Commander said, pushing his hand through his hair. "Well, she doesn't want to stay here either. I think she's just scared."

"Perhaps it would be best not to move her," Data said.

The Commander sighed, and I mentally did as well. I was beginning to believe that I wasn't in danger, at least not as long as they thought that I was a cat, and I started to relax a little. I could escape sometime in the night, or when the Commander left. It might arouse suspicion, but it would soon be forgotten.

"I guess I can replicate a sand box," the Commander said, "and a cat bed."

"Spot prefers Cat Supplement Number 8," Data suggested.

"Thanks, Data. I'll call you if I need any help."

Data nodded and left. The Commander turned back to me.

"I guess this means you're staying, at least for the night," he said.

I guess it does, I thought. Now that part of the danger had passed, I settled down on the couch and watched the Commander. He watched me.

He was uneasy, I could tell. Not only from the way he was acting, which was shifting ever-so-slightly from side to side, but also from the way he smelled. Cats can smell an extraordinary range of emotions, and unease is among them.

"Alright," he said finally. "I don't know much about cats, and the only one I do know is a vicious monster. I'll try to feed you regularly and get whatever else you need, but if I don't then don't attack me. Okay?"

I wondered if this man spoke to all animals like this. Then again, I wondered if he was ever around animals. Well, I might as well make a good impression. And by "good impression" I mean to stay out of his way and sight, and leave within twelve hours.

Crossing the room, the Commander picked up a book and sat down on a chair across the room. I remained where I was, and began to assess my situation.

The Commander wouldn't hurt me: of that I was relatively sure. The human Starfleet personnel who I had met all seemed like decent, if not kind, people. Or at least not the type of people who would hurt cats. This man seemed so uncomfortable with our situation that I doubted that he would even come near me. As long as I kept my identity secret, I should be able to sneak out later. I settled in for a long and uncomfortable wait. The main thing was to keep my identity secret.

Several long hours later, the Commander stood up.

"Computer, what time is it?" he asked as he stretched

"1800," the computer replied.

The Commander set his book aside, and walked over to a replicator. I realized it was dinnertime.

I hadn't eaten since early that morning, but I hadn't noticed hunger. When you're in the business that I'm in, which is being a stowaway, you tend to go hungry more often than not. I don't really notice it anymore.

Looking up, I saw the Commander taking some kind of sandwich out of the replicator. He turned towards me, stopped, then turned back to the replicator.

"Cat Supplement Number 8," he said. A bowl of discolored brown...stuff appeared in the replicator and the Commander, after staring at it for a moment, set it on the floor next to the replicator. Then he replicated a bowl of water, a cat bed, and a sand box.

Great, I thought. I would definitely not be using that.

The Commander returned to the chair and started to eat. I watched him.

I was beginning to learn things about this man, just by watching him. One, he definitely lived alone, and always had. The way his quarters looked told the first. Also, he was rather...manish. This might seem like an obvious observation, but it is a well-known fact that some men are more manish than others. This man walked with a kind of swagger, and he had a beard.

There were other things that I noticed, from the way he smelled.

The Commander looked up at me, and stopped. I realized that I was staring at him. Something about cats made it rather unnerving to be stared at by them. I quickly looked away.

"LaForge to Commander Riker," a voice said. I started, quickly rising to my feet. The fact that I had decided that I wasn't in immediate danger didn't make me less skittish. There were still plenty things to be afraid of.

The Commander tapped his badge.

"Riker here."

"Commander, we're done with the diagnostic. It turns out that one of the phase coil inverters went bad. We'll have it replaced within the hour."

The Commander nodded. "Good job, Geordi. Keep me updated. Riker out."

He hit the badge again. I settled back into my seat, my legs folded beneath me. It was actually very comfortable being a cat. For me, at least, it had always been better than being a Sandorian. Which was good, because it was going to be a very long day.