DINNER AT TEN-FORWARD
by ardavenport
- - - Part 2: She Likes Engineers
"It's big!" Ensign Ikainet turned the package over, looking for an opening. Finding none she tore off the colored paper and continued her search. She found a crack in the cardboard at one end. Hooking her fingers under the flap, she ripped it open. Inside she found it filled with shredded, multi-colored stuffing. Smiling, she grabbed huge handfuls of it and soon emptied the box. Plastic and paper confetti flew everywhere and everyone crowded around the guest of honor ducked futilely. She upended the box and few last flakes fluttered down. She stuck her head in it, but nothing else came out.
"It's empty." Commander Vero Sor, standing behind Ensign Ikainet's chair, complained. "What kind of a gift is that?"
"You don't think I'd actually give anything to this moron, do you?" Lieutenant Zurin Flan answered. "I just thought she'd appreciate being able to throw trash all over everybody."
"Thank-you." Ensign Ikainet answered loudly, still smiling.
"You're welcome, you brainless twit."
"Zurin! This is a farewell party. Can't you be nice just this once?"
"Why should I change now? She doesn't care." Commander Vero put her hand on her hip and glared at Zurin in a way that told him that he was rapidly using up the Beawolf's first officer's patience. He let out a long breath but said nothing else.
"This one's from me." The Beawolf's science officer held out a flat package wrapped in blue paper and tied with a large curly yellow ribbon. Ensign Ikainet took it, probed it for an opening and then ripped open the paper. She revealed a flat three-D transparency of Lieutenant Commander Omum standing between two huge pink, bristly wolf creatures.
"I wanted you to have something to remember me by." Omum's smile was almost as innocently vacuous as Ensign Ikainet's.
How touching. A family portrait." Everyone else at the table either ignored or didn't understand Flan's comment. Getting no answer, he sipped his punch and picked bits of confetti off of his piece of cake. Another person might have been intimidated by Omum's massive size or his superior rank, but Flan knew him too well. Omum was a respectable scientist and a good Starfleet officer, but his personality was stunted. He knew that Omum couldn't comprehend an insult even if he were beat over the head with it. And it irked Zurin mightily that he had to report to somebody who was such a social zero.
"Thank-you." She put the new gift with the others.
"Well I guess it's my turn." A thin, blonde man sitting next to the ensign held out his empty hand to her. He flicked his wrist and a card popped into his palm. Ensign Ikainet didn't react at all to the sleight of hand trick. She took it and examined it closely.
"May. You. Always. Live. With. Surprise. Wishing. You. An Interesting. Existence. Doctor. Hearld," she read from the card, each word separate from each other. She looked back at the man. He held out a silver-wrapped cylinder. She took it, ripped off the decorative covering and tossed it aside. She held up a small black-lacquered can with ornate gold and mother-of-pearl inlay. The legend 'Open Me' was inscribed on its side in delicate gold calligraphy. She shook it and a few lone beads clattered tinnily inside, trapped in the bottom.
"Aren't you going to open it?" a large hairless woman at the opposite end of the table asked.
Ikainet stared back at her, her expression changing from benign happiness to benign worry. Everyone else at the table stared back at her, expectantly.
The quandary initiated a gratifying flood of information about social gatherings and gift giving. She turned back to Dr. Hearld and once again was rewarded with a mental flood of data, this one related to every single thing she'd ever seen Hearld do, cross referenced to the first influx of images. At no point did it occur to her to even wonder what was actually inside Dr. Hearld's gift.
An appropriate answer materialized and it pleased her.
She turned back to the questioner. "I'm not that stupid."
Dr. Vladamir Hearld paused, a little crestfallen. "Oh. I must be getting obvious." Everyone nodded, even Ikainet.
"Doctor..." Vero started.
"I just wanted to give her one last surprise. Ikainet here is one of the few people left in the universe who really appreciates the unexpected."
"You mean she's the only one left on the ship who's too stupid to be bored by your magic act," Flan muttered.
Now Hearld looked annoyed. "Just what is bothering you tonight, Zurin?"
"Oh, nothing." He drummed his fingers on the table. "Except that the only person in this crew totally incapable of appreciating an assignment to the Enterprise gets the transfer."
"So that's what's bothering you," the large, bald woman grinned smugly. She didn't like Flan very much. Zurin was an astrophysicist on the Beawolf and known to be just a bit ambitious about his Starfleet career. "You think you could appreciate it a little more?"
"A house cat would appreciate it more than she could. Labs bigger than Engineering, unlimited computer time, hot and cold running holodecks..."
"Zurin," Vero addressed him. "Just because you..."
"Commander Vero," her communicator said with the voice of Captain Tzaki.
She quickly straightened and tapped the comm badge on her chest.
"Vero here, Captain."
"Please report to Admiral Fletcher's office."
"Yes, Sir."
"And is Ensign Ikainet with you?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Bring her as well."
"Right away, Sir." She tapped her communicator badge again, signing off. "Come on. I guess they want to have a look at you now."
Ensign Ikainet stood and then looked back at the remains of the party.
"We'll have your presents sent to the Enterprise," Hearld told her.
"Riiiiiiiight," she answered and left with Commander Vero.
*oo*oo* *oo*oo* *oo*oo*
"Perhaps you and some of your staff would care to join us for dinner on the Enterprise tonight, Captain." Picard invited.
"We would be honored." Captain Tzaki nodded and added a slight bow. "There are many matters to discuss about Ensign Ikainet. Starfleet has very specific orders for her disposition." Picard looked at the Admiral.
"My staff will be relaying them," Fletcher elaborated. "Along with the updates on the Caroomad system. The situation there's still deteriorating."
"As soon as the Beawolf arrived here we had Ensign Ikainet send a subspace message to Caro. Unfortunately, she couldn't tell them what was going on, or why the other H'cars haven't returned to the planet. This has just never happened before. The Roocaroom have never been hostile. A ship hasn't left or arrived on that planet in nearly five weeks and the government's getting nervous."
Before he could go on, the comm panel on the Admiral's desk beeped for attention. When he answered it an aide announced the arrival of Ensign Ikainet and Commander Vero.
A moment later the door to the Admiral's office opened and two people entered. Will Riker noted Ensign Ikainet, but his gaze quickly turned to the Beawolf's first officer, Commander Vero. He looked her up and down. He had rarely ever seen anybody fill a Starfleet uniform so extremely well. Narrow waist, full bosom, shapely hips. Her honey blonde hair was styled attractively on her head and Will Riker couldn't help but wonder how long it was when it was let down. Her skin was smooth, her lips full and her eyes large and blue and accented by the delicate Bajoran ridges between them. Except for the sprinkling of colored bits and shreds in her hair and on the upper portion of her black and red command uniform her appearance was flawless.
Riker straightened and looked pointedly at Ensign Ikainet. It would be rude and unprofessional for him to stare, but he noted that even Admiral Fletcher and Captain Picard gave Commander Vero a second glance. Ikainet was a little shorter than her shipmate, the top of her purple hair came to Riker's chin. Her huge eyes were open all the way and she didn't blink at all. She looked about the Admiral's small office curiously. Her head turned in all directions, pausing briefly at the picture window view of the city below. She even looked up and down. When she stepped in front of the desk she looked down at it's surface and then directly at the Admiral. It was decidedly atypical behavior for a junior ensign.
The top of her head and uniform were dotted with colored bits as well.
Frowning, Tzaki slowly approached his first officer and stood in front of her. Tzaki was very thin and small and stood eye-level with Vero's chest. He reached up and pulled a thready yellow strip from her hair and examined it carefully.
Vero blushed. "I'm sorry about that, Sir. We were throwing a farewell party for Ensign Ikainet and Mr. Flan gave her a box of confetti." Tzaki gazed back at her. The sparse, pale gray mustaches and beard that hung below his chin deepened his frown. He looked at Ikainet.
"You used it."
"Riiiiight." Mouth open, Ensign Ikainet smiled benignly back at him. Tzaki sighed.
"Captain Picard, Commander Riker, may I introduce to you my first officer, Commander Vero Sor and Ensign Ikainet."
Picard stepped forward, perfectly willing to ignore the confetti incident. "Commander." He nodded politely and shook her hand. Her handshake was firm, her palm pleasantly warm. "Ensign." He extended his hand. Without changing her smile or expression, Ikainet grabbed his hand, gave it one shake and released him.
"It's a pleasure, Commander." Riker smiled at Vero, his bright blue eyes just a little suggestive, his beard accenting a slightly rakish smile, but she was still too flustered about her appearance to notice him. Riker let his grip momentarily linger on her strong and, as far as he could tell, perfect hand. He turned to Ikainet. She seized his hand and gave it a brisk shake. Her hand was like warm rubber. She let go, her arm flopping back to her side and then she stood there and looked up at him. Riker swallowed. He couldn't honestly say it was a pleasure this time. Captain Picard was still holding his hand out; he looked like he'd just touched something dead.
"Well, now that we've all been introduced," Admiral Fletcher said, still seated at his desk, "We can go over the situation in your home system, Ensign." The Admiral smiled, but Riker thought it looked a little strained. He must have met Ikainet before, Riker thought. They all took seats. Ikainet, the last to sit down, scanned the whole room before zeroing in on the only empty chair left. While Fletcher started his briefing Riker noticed Tzaki sitting back, a peaceful expression on his face, a small half smile on his lips.
*oo*oo* *oo*oo* *oo*oo*
"Really?" Beverly Crusher asked in surprise.
"I didn't believe it myself," Dr. Hearld insisted. "But a little corlitcyze and those sores went away," he snapped his fingers, "like that." The two stood apart from the other people in the officer's mess. Their conversation had wandered on to subjects related to unsavory medical conditions during the pre-dinner drinks and hors d'oeuvres. The other guests had left them alone. One person approached them.
"Pardon the intrusion, Dr. Crusher," Captain Tzaki addressed them. "If I may have a word with Doctor Hearld..."
Crusher took the hint. "Of course." She gracefully bowed out of the conversation.
"Well, what can I do for you, Captain?" Herald asked, taking a sip from his glass.
Head level, Tzaki looked up at the taller man with his eyes only, his expression absolutely serious. "No magic tricks."
Hearld paused, his jovial mood squelched. He opened his mouth to respond but said nothing. The look on Captain Tzaki's face told him that there would be no arguments on the matter.
"Yes, Sir," he answered, deflated. The silk scarves and flowers up his sleeves were suddenly very irritating. His captain must have seen him produce the small bouquet of African violets for Dr. Crusher. It was his usual warm-up trick. Satisfied, Tzaki left him to rejoin the rest of the diners.
After a few more moments of socializing everyone served themselves from the buffet and took a seat at the table. Captain Picard sat at the head of the table with Captain Tzaki on his right and Commander Riker on his left. Next to Tzaki was Ensign Ikainet, Deanna Troi and then Dr. Vladamir Hearld, Lt. Commander Data and Commander Reg Roth, Captain Tzaki's chief engineer. Next to Riker sat Commander Vero, then Lt Commander Geordi LaForge, science officer Omum, Dr. Beverly Crusher and then Lt Worf. At the far end of the table sat the Beawolf's second officer, Lt. Commander Lucy Pugh, a sad faced woman with a deep voice, faded red hair and who looked at least twenty years older than Captain Picard.
"You have a fine ship, Captain Picard," Tzaki began. "I enjoyed the tour very much."
"Thank-you." Picard took a bite of roast beef. "I understand your own ship, the Beawolf was severely damaged in your last mission and that you were fortunate to make it to Rigel at all."
"Ah, we were detained by the Ferengi." Tzaki began.
Picard and Riker both showed the proper amount of concern. "I hadn't realized they'd made advances in your sector," Picard said.
"Neither did we, until we caught them at it." Vero answered.
"They attacked you?" Riker asked.
"Not directly at first," Tzaki told them.
The Beawolf had come across a single Ferengi ship apparently trying to open a new market with the natives of a planet that had mastered stable interplanetary travel less than a century ago. After a cursory investigation it became clear that the Ferengi's motives were purely exploitative. Clauses in the prime directive and a long list of other Starfleet regulations prevented Tzaki from taking any action, but nothing stopped him from recording the situation. The Ferengi had objected, knowing that it would not look good for their dealings with the Federation. For these Ferengi the solution seemed to be to eliminate the intruding starship. They had laid a trap in the form of a hidden bomb in a derelict ship and then lured Tzaki's ship within its range with a false distress call. The device had done considerable damage, but failed to destroy the Beawolf. When they attempted to finish them off the Ferengi were curiously unable to destroy the Federation ship. Their missiles went astray, the Beawolf's shields seemed unusually hard to penetrate, especially for a damaged craft, and eventually after an exchange of fire between the two ships and a protracted stand-off the Ferengi were forced to give up when their energy reserves mysteriously waned. So, when the Beawolf finally limped out of the area the Ferengi were forced to just watch them go.
The answer to the Ferengi mystery was Ensign Ikainet and her ability to absorb nearly anything thrown at the Beawolf; she was also able to absorb a significant portion of the Ferengi energy reserves. The encounter had no doubt left the Ferengi wondering how any Federation ship could be so miraculously fortunate and perhaps speculating about what secret weapon had been used. Tzaki had given them nothing other than a curt goodbye when the Ferengi daimon had admitted defeat. Starfleet Command had given specific orders that revelation of Ensign Ikainet's abilities to any hostile or unknown alien was to be avoided. Once out of the area, Tzaki had elected to take a circuitous route back to a safe haven that a Starfleet vessel was unlikely to choose. Thus they ended up at Rigel.
"I wished to avoid any other Ferengi who would attack us for the benefit of their fellow Ferengi," Tzaki explained. He had his hands up, palms together, fingers pointed upward in a thoughtful fashion. "We were four weeks from Federation or allied space."
"You had transmitted these events to Starfleet?" Picard asked.
"Yes, but Ferengi place a great value on physical evidence and that would give them motive to have others of their kind seek us out and attempt to destroy us. I expect the record of the incident will cause great pains to the Ferengi diplomats who will need to explain it," Tzaki answered.
"Excuse me, Sir," Riker began. "But if Ensign Ikainet was able to deflect the Ferengi weapons and drain their power reserves, why wasn't she able to disarm the bomb in the first place?"
"Even Ensign Ikainet cannot do anything about a bomb she does not know about, though she did actually deflect some of the blast after it had become obvious." Tzaki replied. "Precognition is not one of her assets. Her abilities are very powerful, but they...lack finesse."
"How powerful?" Picard asked.
"The Astrophysics Research Division at Starfleet Academy estimated that Ensign Ikainet can produce energies up to eleven thousand times the output of a rayleigh matter/anti-matter converter," Ensign Ikainet told them. The Enterprise personnel stopped eating and stared back at her, and it wasn't just because she had peculiarly referred to herself by name instead of using the first person pronoun 'I'. A single rayleigh converter was usually used to supply the power needs of a large starbase.
"So you have no telepathic abilities?" Riker asked Ensign Ikainet, changing the subject.
"Noooooo," she answered in her usual exaggerated fashion. When there was no immediate response she added, "Lt. Suris at the Academy said she's as telepathic as a rock." Again, there was her odd use of the wrong pronoun. Riker and Picard saw Deanna Troi, seated next to her, nod an affirmative. The captain also noticed that Troi seemed to be avoiding getting too near to her as well and he made a note to himself to ask the counselor about that later.
Picard watched his new ensign. She ate carefully, cutting her food into small pieces, forking them into her mouth and taking precisely three chews. She didn't appear to swallow, but the food disappeared nonetheless. Like Lt. Commander Data she didn't need to eat for sustenance, but did so for social occasions. He speculated about what happened to the things she ate. Then Picard realized that he didn't know where anything that Data ate went to either.
The other Enterprise personnel seated at the table also studied their new crew member. Riker scrutinized her carefully and occasionally questioned her about her abilities. Unfortunately he had little else to occupy himself with since it had become clear early on in the evening that Commander Vero was far more socially interested in Geordi LaForge than himself.
Data observed Ensign Ikainet carefully as well, though his attention was divided between her and Lt. Commander Omum. Data was certain that the Beawolf's science officer was the same species as the valet of Counselor Troi's mother. He was tall and broad and had even less hair than Captain Picard, a little yellowish fringe at the base of his skull. His skin was pale with a blue undertone. Commander Vero, Dr. Hearld and Mr. Roth all passed their wine glasses to him without his even asking for them. Omum gulped them down in a fashion that was very similar to Lwaxana Troi's valet, Mr. Homme.
But unlike Mr. Homme, Mr. Omum conversed freely.
"Starfleet assigned a team of seventeen experts to evaluate Ikky's abilities when she applied to the Academy. They estimated that they were only able to explain about ten percent of the things she can do."
"Ikky?" LaForge asked.
"It's a little nickname I use." He seemed immensely pleased by this.
"He's the only one who uses it," Vero whispered in LaForgei's ear.
Unperturbed, Omum continued, "They've managed to bring the percentage up to twenty-three percent."
"Of Ensign Ikainet's abilities that are understood?" LaForge asked.
"Riiiiiight," Omum answered in way quite similar to Ensign Ikainet.
The dinner progressed with little incident with each person enjoying it in their own way.
Lt. Worf at the end of the table was his usual unsociable self. He concentrated on eating dinner and observing Ensign Ikainet. Nothing else at the gathering interested him though he did once indulge himself by describing a few details of Klingon etiquette to Dr. Hearld, a human who was clearly squeamish about physical violence. Otherwise he had little to say.
Data became totally occupied with a conversation with Mr. Omum, who it seemed had an infinite capacity to enjoy the most technical and tedious of the android's anecdotes. Nobody else at the table felt it necessary to join them.
Dr. Crusher was in the unenviable position of being seated between Mr. Worf who was not very communicative at his best and Mr. Omum, who also seemed capable of producing his own stultifyingly boring tales that fascinated Data. She conversed with Commander Roth and Lt. Commander Pugh, but the topic quickly degenerated to engineering, a subject for which she had no taste.
"We had plenty of power, but the warp converter was fused and we had to make do with spare parts, so we couldn't push it much past warp four or the whole thing would have blown up in our faces," Roth explained.
"Oh," Crusher said.
"Yes?" Mr. Omum answered.
"Not you, O," Pugh told the science officer, who smiled and turned back to Data.
"We were lucky that the warp drive itself wasn't seriously damaged or we wouldn't have had the power to get back," Roth finished.
Crusher swallowed a bite of potatoes and gravy before responding. "I suppose. But from what I hear you probably could have used Ensign Ikainet for power."
"Now that's an idea." Roth sat back, considering the possibilities. "I guess if we had to we could. But it's hard picturing hooking up the converter cable linkages to her. I wonder where I put them?"
"I know where I'd put them," Lucy Pugh said, stabbing a bit of squash.
Dr. Crusher didn't pursue the subject any further, but something at the other end of the table caught her attention.
"So you cook, Ensign Ikainet?" Riker asked.
"Yes. That's what I did before I joined Starfleet."
"Well, I dabble in the culinary arts myself. Maybe we can get together sometime," Riker offered, making a sincere effort to make Ikainet feel welcome on the Enterprise.
Commander Vero coughed loudly over her dessert.
"Is something wrong?" Riker asked.
"Oh nothing," she said, getting her breath back. "Except that nobody has ever taught Ensign Ikainet that food isn't a projectile."
"Caroomadi cooking is in general, quite energetic," Tzaki added calmly. "But Ensign Ikainet's chef's credentials are outstanding. As long as she keeps the entree on the plate," he qualified.
"Wear a crash helmet," Dr. Hearld advised.
Will Riker wondered what he'd just volunteered for. Captain Picard already knew he would not attend a meal served by the H'car. He looked at Ensign Ikainet and wondered just what he was getting.
- - - Part 2 continues . . .
