CHAPTER ELEVEN
"Yes, I've heard of it," Grav replied. "It's a useless substance, with no redeeming qualitites. Very similar to you, in that regard."
"Grav, I ain't in the mood fer this right now," Trip growled. "According to one o' the men we hired, a man that's actually been there, not having the Trellium D compound on the hull could kill us all, if we hit one o' them anomalies. Find some, and get to work coating both the inner and outer hulls with the stuff. Understand?"
"I suppose you'll want to apply this ridiculous and unneeded treatment to the other ships as well?" Grav demanded.
"Not. . .not at this point," Trip decided. "Once the Xindi are finished, reckon we won't have much call to go back in there."
"Some restraint, at least," Grav snorted. "Will miracles never cease."
"Get to work," Trip ordered, and shut off the com, before he put his fist through it. He sat back, considering.
He didn't know anything about this stuff. Maybe they needed to test it a bit, before they actually used it. He shook his head, pushing the thought away. He'd ask Tragon about it, when he got the chance.
But the chance didn't arrive, and Trip soon forgot about it, being more concerned with other things.
STE
"Admiral Forrest for you, Captain," Hoshi announced. Jon sighed, wondering what useless orders or information he was being sent now.
"My ready room, Hoshi," he ordered. "T'Pol, you have the bridge."
"Yes, Captain." Archer entered his ready room, sat down behind his desk, took a deep, calming breath, and hit the accept.
"Good morning, Jon," Forrest smiled. "I have new orders for you. Orders that, for once, you'll like."
"Very well, sir," Jon straightened. Probably going to rotate crew, he thought morosely. All the time and trouble he'd spent to make sure that Enterprise had the best possible crew for her maiden journey, and now. . . .
"Columbia will be relieving you on station in two hours," Forrest told him. "You are to return to Jupiter Station as soon as you're relieved for upgrades and refit. Your crews will have seven days leave, starting twenty-four hours after docking. Once your refit is completed, Captain, you'll be taking Enterprise into the Delphic Expanse. I'll give you the full briefing when you reach Starfleet Headquarters. Until then, Forrest out." The screen went blank, just like Jon's face. Not to mention his head.
He sat as still as he could for a minute, then jumped up from his desk.
"Yes!" he howled, pumping a raised fist into the air. Ten seconds later, his ready room door burst open, to reveal Malcolm Reed, phase pistol at his side.
"Captain, are you okay?" he asked, looking around.
"Hell yes!" Archer couldn't contain his excitement. "Senior Staff to the conference room in ten minutes. Also, advice the Beta crewmen to expect Columbia within two hours."
"Yes, sir," Reed nodded, and disappeared. One half-minute later, the door reopened, and T'Pol stepped inside.
"I take it that, for once, you are not displeased with our orders?" she inquired.
"You take it right!" Archer smiled. He almost reached out to hug the reserved Vulcan, but realized in time that it wouldn't be appropriate. He nevertheless got an Eyebrow of Reminder and Admonishment.
"Sorry," he said. "I'm just really happy, T'Pol."
"May I inquire what it is that has given you this. . .euphoria?"
"We're heading in to Jupiter Station for refit and upgrade as soon as Columbia is on station," he told her. "Week's leave for the crew, Earthside. Then, once we've completed our upgrades, we're headed for the Expanse." Another Eyebrow.
"I admit this is unexpected," T'Pol said. "I was under the impression that no such mission was planned for the foreseeable future. What has changed?"
"No idea, and I don't really care," Jon told her. "I've called a staff meeting, so, I'll see you there in about ten minutes, okay?"
"Indeed," T'Pol nodded.
STE
"I wonder why now?" Reed was the first to broach the question, after Archer had brought them all up to date.
"I don't know, but Forrest promised to tell me, as soon as I reported to him for briefing."
"Sir, if I may?" Reed asked, and Jon motioned for him to go on.
"I strongly suggest you not inform the crew of this until they return from leave," the security officer told him.
"Why?"
"Sir, first of all, they can't tell what they don't know," Reed ticked off. "Secondly, allow the crew to enjoy their leave without having to think about what we're about to do. It may well be a long time before we have leave again, especially here at home."
"A sound suggestion, Captain," T'Pol added her agreement.
"I must concur as well, Captain," Phlox rarely said anything in these meetings unless it was in reference to how the crew might be affected. "They need the rest and relaxation to help recover from the strain they have all been under."
"Very well, then, that's how we'll play it," Archer agreed. "Anything else like that?"
"We need to have department heads think long and hard about what supplies they may need," Hoshi suggested. "That includes the Quartermaster as well. We'll be a long way from anywhere we can draw resupply from."
"I'd thought along those lines myself," Jon nodded. "Still, we'll work that into the que after crew leave. I'd like to have everyone's input on that one," he added, for clarification. "We have no idea how long we may be out. Even the simplest thing now might be important two months into the Expanse."
"I will work to make sure the infirmary is sufficiently stocked," Phlox offered. "It may be that we will need a medical stasis for long term storage of certain drugs or treatment regimens. We'll also need an ample supply of basic ingredients. We may find ourselves needing to develop our own treatments."
"I concur," T'Pol nodded. "I will assist you in that endeavor, Doctor."
"I would welcome your input."
"Okay, for now, we have a lot of things to get done," Jon wrapped up the meeting. "Everyone keep thinking on this, and make notations for later study. For now, we have to hand off to Columbia, and get back to Jupiter Station."
STE
"Good to see you, Erika," Jon smiled at the face on his screen.
"Yeah, yeah," his former lover snorted delicately. "You just want to go dirtside for a bit."
"Well, that too," Jon knew he was grinning like a schoolboy, but couldn't stop himself. "I admit, it'll be nice to hit the 602, even for a couple beers and out. How's your new command?" he asked.
"Mine," Erika smiled just as big as Jon. "I can't even begin to tell you, but then, I don't have to, do I?"
"Nope, you don't," Jon laughed. "I'm proud of you Erika. And proud for you."
"Thanks, Jon," Erika nodded. "I appreciate it."
"You deserve to be in that chair, Erika," Jon said seriously. "Don't forget it. Okay?"
"I'll try and keep it in mind," she said, a softer smile on her face this time.
There was still a lot between them, even now, both realized at the same time. Only Starfleet, and their own desire to be part of history had kept them from seeing just what might have been.
"Well, we have to go," Jon said finally. "I'm supposed to head back the minute you're on station."
"You are relieved, Captain," Erika said formally. "We've already received your logs. Anything to add?"
"Just be watchful," Trip shrugged helplessly. "And maybe press the edge of the patrol area with the frigates whenever you can," he grinned. "Adding that distance to their sensors might give you and extra few minutes warning."
"I'll take that under close advisement," Erika nodded, which meant she'd do it, but didn't want to say it on the record.
"Jon, there's a lot of scuttlebutt about your upgrades," Erika commented. "I don't know where you're going, or what you're going to do, but. . .be safe, all right? Be safe, and come home that way."
"I promise, I'll do my best," Jon replied. "Take care of yourself, Erika. I'll. . .I'll see you when I see you, I guess."
"Safe journey, Captain," Erika nodded. "Columbia, out."
Jon spared a moment to reflect on how things might have once been, then reached over and hit his com.
"Mister Mayweather, take us in. Full impulse."
"On our way, sir."
Enterprise was on her way home.
STE
Trip sat in front of the com unit for a long while before finally entering the address he needed. It took a few minutes, but he was soon looking at the face of Janos.
The very annoyed face, he amended.
"Mornin' boss," Trip smiled.
"You had better have an excellent reason for calling me at," Janos looked to his side, and his scowl deepened. "Two twenty in morning," he growled.
"Got a pretty decent one, yeah," Trip nodded. "We managed to recruit a pretty good ground force. Seventeen former Denobulan Special Forces, and a squad o' Klingons."
"You felt the need to wake me for that?" Janos almost hissed.
"Well, no," Trip admitted. "I got a problem, and I. . .I don't know how to deal with it. I need some guidance." Janos' scowl might, might, have lessened an entire millimeter.
"I'm waiting," he finally said, when Trip didn't continue. "And I dislike waiting."
"I'll add that to the list," Trip promised. "I bought a human slave girl," he went on. "One that's pretty messed up, here," he pointed to his head. "She needs help that none of us could ever hope to give her. I need. . .well, I need a doctor, and maybe a shrink. Or permission to send her to Earth."
"What is her name?" Janos asked, suddenly far more interested.
"Only name we can get, so far, is Kara," Trip shrugged helplessly. "Don't know if that's the name her folks gave'er, of it's just a name the slaver hung on her."
"Who is this slaver?" Janos demanded.
"The late Trel Nee," Trip said flatly.
"Late," Janos repeated. "Charles, why must you always over react. It would nice, on occasion, if you at least attempted to take prisoners. Prisoners from whom we might gain valuable information."
"Sorry," Trip replied, meaning it. "I'll work on it. Really, I will," he added at the look on Janos' face.
"Well, what's done is done," Janos sighed. "You're in luck, Charles," he added. "I've already consulted a physician who will accompany you on your voyage. Her name is Delana Grix, a Betazoid doctor, who can also serve as a ship's councilor."
"Never met one," Trip admitted. "Glad she's a woman. Might make Kara feel a bit more at ease."
"She should also be able to assist the young woman with her return to society. If she cannot, then I will make the appropriate arrangements."
"I appreciate it, boss," Trip nodded. "We'll be back on the station in a few hours. We're gettin' close to launch, too," he added.
"Good," Janos nodded firmly. "Be under way as soon as you can. Starfleet is up to something, but I do not yet know what it is."
"Yes, sir," Trip nodded.
"Now, is that all, or can I go back to sleep?" Janos demanded gruffly.
"That's all, sir," Trip managed to fight off his smile at the grumpy tone of voice. "And I am sorry for disturbing you."
"No, you're not," Janos sighed. "You're the problem son I never wanted," he added, with a snort. "Put her on the next freighter home, Charles. We'll find out who she is, and where she came from."
"Yes, sir. Goodnight, sir," Trip smiled, and cut the signal.
STE
Janos had neglected to inform him that Delana Grix was beautiful. Trip's new and improved Mark Three hearing heard Neera's sharp intake of breath as their new physician entered the station through the airlock.
Pale skin, jet black hair, and a mouth watering figure, all bundled together in a dazzling, smile covered dynamo of energy.
Why do I have a feeling I'll regret meeting her? Trip wondered.
"Oh, my," Delana Grix stopped short, eyeing Trip closely.
"Ma'am?" Trip was startled. "Uh, I'm Charles Tucker, ma'am, and this is Tarn, the station commander," he indicated the Andorian. "And this is Neera, my second," he added.
"I'm pleased to meet you," the Betazoid woman almost purred. Trip felt Neera move closer to him.
"Doctor, I hate to impose on you as you've just arrived. . . ." Trip began.
"Oh, feel free to impose away," Grix gave him a dazzling smile. "How ever can I be of service, Mister Tucker."
I'm so dead.
STE
"Oh, dear," Grix murmured as they observed Kara through the window of the station hospital. "She is in great turmoil, poor dear."
"How can. . . ."
"I'm sorry," Grix turned to face Trip and the others. "We Betazoid are, for the most part, empathic at least. In my case, I also have a modest telepathic gift as well. I can. . .sense, her turmoil, even without touch."
"What can you share with us?" Trip asked.
"She is afraid, confused, and unsure of her situation," Grix replied as her gaze lost it's focus. "She. . .she does not understand the nature of her relationship with you. The two of you, actually," Grix indicated Trip and Neera both. "She knows that you purchased her from h. . .oh, dear," her gaze sharpened.
"The two of you are quite the pair," she said cautiously.
"Something you'd do well to remember," Neera didn't quite hiss, moving closer to Trip, and taking his hand into hers. She'd had enough, and decided to stake her claim now.
"Neera," Trip said gently. "This is about Kara, remember." Neera snorted lightly, but nodded.
"Can you help her?" Trip turned back to Grix. "At least get her, I don't know. Stable enough, I guess is the word I'm looking for. Stable enough for the trip home, to Earth?"
"How long until she leaves?" Grix asked.
"Eleven days."
"Then perhaps, yes," Grix nodded.
"Please start as soon as you can, Doctor," Trip urged. "Our ship is near completion. The moment it's ready, we're embarking, and you'll be with us."
"Yes, that's why I'm here," Grix nodded. "I'll go in and meet with her, now. I'll let you know her status in a few hours."
"Thank you, ma'am," Trip replied. "We'll be around. Anyone can find us for you."
"Thank you, Mister Tucker."
STE
"I don't like her," Neera said at once, as soon as the Betazed woman was out of hearing.
"I think you've made that clear, sweetheart," Trip agreed. Neera's hand tightened at the endearment.
"You like her." It was almost an accusation.
"Neera, I just met the woman," Trip sighed in exasperation. "I don't know what to think about her, just yet."
"She is not unattractive," Neera insisted.
Trip chuckled, but said nothing.
"I am not jealous," Neera said with a snort.
"Not at all," Trip agreed, hiding a smirk as best he could.
"I hate you," Neera told him, but there was no heat in it.
"Why? Cause I can tell when you're lyin'?" Trip challenged, smiling all the while.
"Yes."
STE
"She's been severely traumatized," Grix reported seven hours later, at dinner. She had been forced to retire to her new quarters for a time to recover after her initial meeting with Kara.
"Her conditioning was severe, to say the least. The poor girl is almost an automaton. And she is still unsure if she is in danger, due to the, ah, violent nature in which her former owner was dispatched."
"Bastard got off easy," Neera muttered under her breath.
"She will need extensive counseling, when she reaches Earth, but yes, Mister Tucker, she will be able to make the trip, I believe, without any complications."
"Good," Trip nodded. "Thank you, Doctor."
"It was my pleasure," Grix smiled again. "Now, if you will excuse me, I need to retire. I'm afraid that between my shuttle ride, and meeting with your slave girl, I am in need of rest." She rose and departed.
"Well, that's one problem taken care of," Trip sat back. "Now, if nothing else goes wrong, we should be able. . . ." Red lights began flashing, along with a harsh klaxon.
"All security to the engineering lab! All security to the engineering lab! Captain Tucker to Engineering lab! Crew emergency!" The message kept repeating for three full cycles. Trip was on his feet, Neera beside him, running for engineering.
Skidding into the lab, Trip looked for the problem, and when he found it, all he could do for a second was stare.
Kov, who Trip would have sworn didn't have a violent bone in his body, was wild eyed. Standing in the middle of the bay, surrounded by four prone crewmen that Trip prayed were just knocked out, Kov looked like something out of a sci-fi novel.
Swinging an engine transom that had to weigh a quarter ton as if it were a baseball bat, Kov was attacking anyone who came too close.
"Trip?" Neera said, jarring him from his shock.
"Jesus, what's wrong with him?" Trip asked. He'd never seen any Vulcan, let alone Kov, in such a state as this.
"Trip, we have to stop him," Neera said. "He'll destroy the lab, not to mention our people."
"I know," Trip nodded grimly. "Try not to hurt him," he ordered. "I can't. . .I don't understand what. . .I mean, it's Kov for God's sake!"
Trip waved everyone else back as he and Neera advanced, and most gladly obliged. Few had ever seen an enraged Vulcan. After today, they would hope they never did so again.
"Kov, look at me, buddy," Trip said calmly, walking slowly toward one of only two Vulcans he had ever called 'friend'. "Kov, take it easy, okay?"
Kov's reply was an angry hiss, along with some kind of ancient sounding Vulcan that the translator couldn't follow.
"Could he be. . .could this be his Ponn Far?" Neera asked. "I've always been told that such behavior was common among those suffering from such a thing."
"I don't think Kov would allow himself to get like this," Trip replied softly. "He's too professional. No, this is something else." Trip jumped back suddenly as Kov tried to hit him with the transom rod. Solid titanium, the rod was used to lever engines around and into place for service. Being hit with one would hurt like hell. If it didn't kill you, of course.
"Ever body clear outta here!" Trip ordered. "Kron!" he yelled as the Klingon arrived. "Seal the area, and keep every body outside. Let us deal with this." Kron nodded, and started evacuating the lab. Trip kept his eyes on Kov, who was starting to move, slowly, toward Trip.
"Trip, be careful," Neera ordered, moving to flank Kov on the Vulcan's right, trying to force him to divide his attention. Kov stopped, eyeing her, then back to Trip.
"Kov, buddy, let me help you," Trip called. Kov's head cocked to one side, studying Trip with violence laden eyes.
"This is gonna suck so bad," Trip sighed, then leaped across the distance between them, managing to grab the transom and hang on.
Kov roared in rage, trying to dislodge the human from his weapon. His failure to do so only seemed to enrage him further.
"Help me get him on the ground!" Trip yelled, and Neera, already moving to help, simply swept Kov's legs from under him. Kov fell backward, with Trip managing to follow him down, and land atop the Vulcan.
Trip had always heard that Vulcans were strong, and had seen it for himself on more than one occasion, but this was ridiculous.
"Kov, what the hell is wrong with you?" he managed to ask through gritted teeth. Trip knew, now, that he could disable Kov, but the man was his friend, and Trip didn't want to hurt him.
With Kov on the ground, Neera landed on his legs, trying to help contain him. Between them, they could probably keep Kov on the deck without injuring him.
Probably.
Julio Givens rushed into the room just then, carrying a hypospray. Neera caught a glimpse of Delana Grix near the hatch, watching pensively.
"Hold his head, Trip!" Julio ordered, sliding to his knees. As soon as he was close enough, Julio's hand snapped out, forcing the hypo to Kov's neck and activating it. Kov roared again in rage, but Trip, much to his surprise, was able to hold the Vulcan down even as he screamed in rage.
"Hit him again!" Neera yelled, but Julio hesitated, looking at Grix. The doctor nodded, though clearly hesitant. Julio repeated the move, this time on the other side of Kov's neck.
Thirty seconds later, Kov seemed to be weakening, but there was no sign that his sanity was returning.
"Again!" Grix called from across the room. "Half, this time!" she informed Julio. The electronics expert adjusted the spray, and hit Kov with it one more time. The Vulcan thrashed on the floor for a few more seconds in ineffectual rage, before slowing, and eventually stopping his violent attempts to free himself, or to cause damage to his tormentors.
Then, with one last guttural roar of pure, unadulterated rage, Kov finally collapsed into unconsciousness.
"Bring him, quickly!" Grix ordered. For the first time, Trip noted that the Betazoid woman was wearing. . .well. . .almost nothing. The sheer gown flung about her hid almost none of her magnificent body. With the danger past, several of the crewmen were also starting to notice.
"Bring him to medical," she ordered, and Trip managed to nod, as he took hold of Kov's body, lifting his unconscious friend from the deck with an ease that still caught him by surprise.
"Julio, get with Kron, see if you can find out what the hell happened here," Trip ordered.
"On it, bossman," Julio promised.
"Neera, with me," he ordered.
"Oh, that was going to happen anyway," she almost growled, forcing Trip to sigh.
Apparently his lover had seen Grix' state of undress as well. He pushed the thought from his mind, however, looking at the now peaceful face of one of his closest non-human friends. One of the few, the very few, Vulcan's who had managed to win his respect, let alone his friendship.
What had happened to Kov, and why?
He reached the medical bay, and walked inside, carrying Kov to the imaging chamber at Grix's orders. Once there, Grix and two medics worked to secure Kov to the gurney, then she activated the scanner, Kov sliding inside the imaging chamber. Grix, he noted, had donned a long lab coat over her flimsy nightgown.
"Does anyone know what caused this?" she asked, studying the equipment in front of her. She was all business at the moment, and Trip's respect for her grew a notch.
"I've got people looking into it," he assured her. He turned to Neera and whispered to her urgently. Neera nodded in agreement, and left the room.
"She's very protective of you," Grix commented. "You have a strong relationship, Mister Tucker."
"We do," Trip nodded.
"There is a tendril of some kind between you," she went on, still focused on whatever the scan was telling her. "More than physical or emotional, I mean," she added. "It's very difficult to quant. . . ."
"Doctor, with all due respect, my relationship with Neera is absolutely none of your concern," Trip said calmly, his voice firm, but not unkind. "I'd prefer you leave it that way. And you have more important matters to deal with, right now," he motioned to the scanner.
"I wasn't trying to pry," Grix wasn't apologetic, but did seem to understand. "She has nothing to worry about from me."
"She knows that," Trip replied, and this time, finally, Grix looked up at him.
"Go ahead," Trip told her. "Take your look, and be done with it. But," he cautioned, "I warn you, you won't like what you see, Doctor." His voice was flat and dark.
"There is no need for me to invade your privacy to see that you are sincere, Captain. You love her."
"I do," Trip nodded firmly.
"She returns your affections, you know," Grix couldn't help but grin.
"I know," Trip sounded a little less tense now.
"I wish you both happiness, Captain," Grix told him, returning to the scan. "I'm a hopeless flirt, Captain Tucker, and I know that. We Betazed, we. . .we live life to the fullest, Captain. I do not mean to give offense to her, or you, when I do so. Please understand that, and I will attempt to. . .adapt."
"There's no need for that," Neera's voice broke the quiet. Trip didn't move, other than to reach behind him, offering him her hand. "Do not attempt to change who you are, Doctor. There is no need. And," she grinned, "he is cute."
"He is at that," Grix sighed. The way the two women were talking was making Trip feel. . . .
""Okay, the scan is complete," Grix announced, moving to the image along the wall. She studied it quietly for some time, the expression on her face changing at least three times.
"I do not. . .I. . .," she tried, then shook herself, and tried again.
"For some reason, his neural pathways are. . .distended. Wrong, somehow. I do not know what could cause that, other than perhaps. . ." she broke off, looking at them.
"I'm sorry. I was about to reveal something very personal to a Vulcan," she admitted, blushing slightly. There was only one thing Trip was aware of that might possibly make this irrepressible woman blush.
"His Pon Farr?" Trip asked softly.
"How do you. . . ."
"Kov is my friend, Delana," Trip used her first name. "But I can't believe he would have allowed his Pon Farr to hit him here, of all places. From what little I understand, Kov would have had at least some warning."
"It isn't Pon Farr," Grix shook her head. "I almost wish it was, since that, at least, is treatable. No, this is something else. Something I don't understand."
"Do you. . .will he be all right?" Trip asked, unsure he wanted the answer.
"I don't know," Grix admitted. "The damage to some of his neural pathways is. . .well, it's strange. Once I've determined what caused this, I may have a better answer for you."
"We may can help with that," Julio's voice made them all turn. He and Kron stood at the door, a grim look on each face. "But you ain't gonna like it, brother," Julio added.
"Indeed," Kron intoned.
"Well, what is it?" Trip asked.
"Better if you just. . .watch the vid," Julio gave him the PADD he was holding. "If you don't catch it, I'll show you." Trip took the PADD with a growl, and moved to where he, Neera and Delana could all see it. Hitting play, they watched the episode unfold.
The vid played at high speed, almost a skip frame. Trip noticed a large crate being deposited in the engineering lab, being signed for by Kov. The Vulcan opened the crate, then paused to take a look at the PADD that had accompanied the shipment. Trip watched as Kov then dug into the crate, removing a lump of the material therein, and taking it to his workstation, presumably to analyze it. Trip paused the playback, eyes closing as a memory came rushing back to him.
"Was that Trellium?" he asked softly. Both nodded. Trip ran a hand down his face, then resumed playback.
Kov spent the next several hours running tests on the material. Trip's engineering mind set recognized that one of the things Kov was doing was testing the hull polarization process against the new substance the hull was to be coated with.
"Look," Delana drew his attention back to the screen. Trip saw Kov stumble slightly, then shake his head and continue working. A few minutes later, Kov slowed, then stopped his work altogether. Trip paused the video playback again, checking the time stamp.
"Twelve hours," he murmured.
"Vulcan's require much less sleep than some other humanoid species," Delana pointed out. "Including Humans, and Betazoid."
"He's been continuously exposed to the Trellium for at least twelve hours," Trip's voice was strangled as he resumed playback.
Kov looked around him in obvious confusion, almost as if he didn't recognize his surroundings. His confusion faded, to be replaced with a look of. . .anger. Slowly, as if weighting each movement for effectiveness, Kov moved from his work station, along the deck. The first crewman who passed him never realized Kov was there, and for some reason, the Vulcan allowed him to pass.
The second was not so lucky.
Trip finally shut the PADD off, resisting the urge to hurl it against the wall.
"This is my fault," he almost growled.
"How do you figure?" Neera asked.
"Few days back, week, maybe, I had a thought about the effects Trellium might have on people who handled it, or worked near it over time. Since I ain't familiar with it, I decided to ask someone who was. Tragon for sure, and maybe look around somewhere's else."
"But I forgot," he said softly. "I got so busy, I forgot. Slipped my mind, and I never thought about it again. Now, Kov's payin' the price for that." He looked at Julio and Kron.
"Any sign this stuff is affectin' anyone else?"
"None," both answered in unison. "First thing we checked," Julio added. "Apparently, no one else on the station even noticed."
"So perhaps it's just the Vulcan?" Neera asked.
"I promise, I'll find out," Delana Grix placed a hand gently on Trip's arm, wincing at the emotions flowing from him.
"Stop," Neera ordered, and Delana looked surprised.
"Not for me," Neera told her softly. "For you. Don't look in. . . ." but she was too late. Delana's arm recoiled as her face contorted into a mask of fear and revulsion.
"Too late," Julio sighed, shaking his head. "C'mon, Kron. Let's finish up our investigation so we can re-open the lab. I think the good doctor is going to need a moment." The two departed, leaving the med bay to Trip, Neera, and Grix, along with a still unconscious Kov.
Grix was trying to regain her composure, but it was a struggle to say the least.
"Who. . .what, are you people?" Grix almost whispered her question.
"We're different," Neera answered for them both. "That's all, just . . . different."
"No, you're more than that," Grix shook her head. "Captain, how did you. . .I. . .your race simply does not possess the raw power to. . .to. . . ."
"To decapitate an Orion with'is bare hands?" Trip answered sadly. "No, not usually. Not. . .normally."
"Perhaps you should sit down, Doctor," Neera offered her a chair, which Delana took. She covered her face with her hands for a moment, trying to erase the images that her mind had ripped from Trip's memory.
"I'm sorry, Doctor," Trip apologized. "You shouldn'a had to see 'at."
"No one should have to see it," Grix spoke, then looked up. "Including you, Captain. Either of you," she added with a look to Neera.
"Pays ya money, ya takes ya chances," Trip shrugged, then straightened. "I'll inform the boss that you won't be able to go with us, after all, Doctor. I'm sure that we'll be the poorer for it." With that he started for the door.
"Wait!" Delana's voice stopped him. "I never said I wouldn't or couldn't go!"
"The look on your face says it for you, Doctor," Trip smiled sadly. "I don't blame you," he added. "I wouldn't want to ship out with a monster like me, neither. Please, though, stay for a few days and see can you help Kov."
"Don't make the mistake of trying to read something into my expression that isn't there," Grix rose, her face firm. "I told you, we're empaths. I wasn't. . .I was caught by surprise, that's all. I don't usually engage in casual contact, because of that. Normally I'd wear gloves, since that seems to lessen what I can feel from others. But I was working on treating Kov, and ignored the need for them."
"But you know, now," Trip said. "And you ain't likely to forget it, either."
"No, but I can avoid that happening again," she removed a pair of leather gloves from her lab coat pocket, and slipped them on. "There will be no need to inform the 'boss' of anything, either," she said firmly. "You need me. All of you. I am going."
Trip didn't respond, but Neera smiled at the suddenly fierce little Betazoid woman. For the first time, she thought she was going to like her being aboard.
"Thank you, Doctor," Trip nodded. "I'll. . .I'll keep my distance. I. . .Neera, will you remain here, for now, in case Kov ain't in the mood to cooperate if he wakes up? I got some work to do.
"Of course, Trip," Neera smiled. Without another word Trip left the room, walking morosely.
"He blames himself for everything," Neera sighed softly. She turned to Delana. "I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to the others about what you might have seen. Many of the station's crew already know what he did, but. . .knowing it, and seeing it, are two different things."
"I hate Orions," Delana's harsh tone surprised Neera. "Other than Vulcans, Orions prize Betazoid women the most, apparently."
"Well, if you're any kind of example, the women of your race are rather attractive," Neera reminded her.
"Oh, it's not our looks that fascinate them, though I'm sure they help," Grix almost growled. "It's our. . .other abilities."
"Ah," Neera suddenly understood. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Delana waved it off. "I just wanted you to know that. . .well, you can tell Captain Tucker that I have no problem with him simply tearing the head from every Orion in the galaxy."
"Funny you should say that. . . ."