I don't own Star Trek, any of the canon characters, nor do I make any profit from my writings. I merely hope to give my readers a nice, meaty chapter.
Where's The Beef? Part II
Hamed Mofasu outdid himself. The roast beef was so tender one could cut it with a spoon, as he has cooked slowly for almost ten hours. It was perfectly seasoned, the broth a savory melange of rosemary, thyme, and garlic, with shallots and a bit of soy sauce for good measure.
One could smell it all over the ship. The crew, at least the meat eaters, were all very appreciative.
Admiral Pike got multiple orders to go and then summoned Jim and Scotty to the transporter room. Their destination was the Starbase 7 Brig.
Knowles had not brought them their dinner yet. Hurev was becoming concerned about this. The man was usually diligent in his duties, yet there he sat eating a second helping of some kind of meat inside two pieces of bread. He was dipping it into some kind of sauce. It smelled incredible.
When Knowles finished his meal, another security guard tapped him on the shoulder and whispered in his ear. Knowles nodded, discarded his trash, and unlocked Hurev's cell door. He and the other guard put Hurev into restraints. Hurev wanted to know why.
"Am I going somewhere?"
"You have an appointment with Admiral Pike in Interrogation Room 3.
"So" thought Hurev, "It has finally come. I am to be tortured for my knowledge. I will not allow myself to suffer long, just a little while so that they do not think I am too much a coward."
The two guards took Hurev a shot distance and then brought him into a small, dimly lit room. It smelled strongly of meat. Perhaps he was to be slowly roasted alive! He had heard horror stories of the Federation torture chambers.
Suddenly, there was a voice.
"Lights, 75%!"
Three Human males sat at a long table in front of him. The one in the red shirt was eating a meal identical to the one Knowles had. There were two others wearing gold shirts, one older, the second quite young.
"Welcome, Mr. ….Hurev? Am I saying your name correctly?"
"Yes, I am Hurev."
"Hurev, I'm Admiral Christopher Pike. This is Captain James T. Kirk and Lt. Montgomery Scott. As I see it, you've got yourself into quite a predicament. You're a Romulan spy in Federation space, a capital offense. You've also been identified as a murderer and torturer, also capital offenses. If you were to somehow fall into the hands of the Romulan military, you would be punished for failing your mission. I believe the punishment is death, is it not?"
"Yes, that is the case."
"However, I'm a generous sort, and I believe that we could work out some sort of deal. I have something you need, namely your life. You have something I need."
Hurev was trying to pay attention to the Admiral, but the man in the red shirt was very distracting. He was really enjoying his food, dipping the bread in the broth and licking it from his fingers as he ate. It was nearly obscene, almost as if the man were making love to his meal.
"Excuse me, Hurev, I'm over here. Could you please pay attention?"
"Yes, Admiral. You said that I have something that you need. What might that be?'
"Information, Hurev. I need information. I want to know the coordinates of two worlds in the Neutral Zone."
"If I have this information and I share it, how would you give me my life?"
"If the information is valid, you would spend the next fifteen to twenty years in an agricultural penal colony. You would be a farm laborer. The work would be hard, but you would be very well fed."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then I'm afraid it's like I said, capital punishment for capital crimes."
"Which are the worlds you are seeking?"
"I'm looking for Caldena and Hellguard."
Hurev considered for a moment. The man in the red shirt had finished his meal. He was examining a container on the edge of the table. Most likely it contained more food.
"I can give you the coordinates for Caldena. I do not know where Hellguard is."
"That's too bad, Hurev. I need both."
"However, I know who does have those coordinates. Vilas, who was captured with me was born on Hellguard."
"Fair enough. Give me the coordinates."
"I will do so provided I also get a meal like Lt. Scott was eating."
"First the coordinates, then the food."
"As you wish."
It was even easier to the the desired information out of Vilas. He caved after only two minutes and the sight of Scotty drinking his broth.
Jim still couldn't get over it.
"Admiral, that was inspired. What made you think of having Scotty sit in on our little interrogation?"
"I saw him eat a goat meat sandwich at Spock and Uhura's wedding. I'd never seen somebody enjoy their food so much. Let's get back to the ship before the roast beef is gone! What do you say, Scotty?"
"Aye, Admiral. Those were good. I could eat another one."
"Incoming transmission from Dr. Leonard McCoy for T'Ameela."
"Hold transmission."
T'Mardis motioned for the barmaid to come to the counter.
"Your healer is contacting you. Take the call in my office."
T'Ameela hurried to the private terminal.
"Open transmission."
"Greetings, Leonard."
"Hi sweetie, how was school today?"
"The anatomy course class was fascinating, however the chemistry class is proving most challenging..."
The conversation lasted about fifteen minutes. Bones had really only wanted to hear T'Ameela's voice. He wouldn't be able to speak with her daily, but he would call as often as possible.
Lt. Nhegmi joined Spock and Scotty in adapting the cloaking device to fit the power ports in Main Engineering. They built a new control panel for it from scratch. However, when they tested the device, there were a few problems. It siphoned an awful lot of power away from vital systems. There were localized brown-outs all over the ship and at one point the starboard side completely lost power.
They were getting close to a solution, but many hours of work remained.
On her fifth day in San Francisco, Sirin did Chernal's knee surgery. She was a model patient, starting her physical therapy the next day. Four days later, Chernal was walking without a cane. Rachel and Esther took her to the day spa to celebrate.
Chernal was so taken with her new pedicure that she wanted to buy sandals to show it off. Rachel and Esther were never ones to reject an opportunity to go shoe shopping. Three hours and five pairs later, it was evident to all just whom Sonrisa had inherited her love of footwear from.
Two more weeks went by as Spock, Scotty, and Nhegmi worked on the cloaking device, finally perfecting it. Jim gave Sulu the coordinates Pike had gotten from Hurev. They set course for Caldena.
Renarra was another of T'Mardis' barmaids, working her way through university and pursuing a doctorate in Vulcan language studies. Teaching the Vulcan as a Second Language class was part of her coursework requirement. Some of her students struggled, while others progressed rapidly.
The two most promising were T'Vora and Kensed. They studied together often in the seamstress' shop with Aunt T'Shilah and her new bondmate Stren chaperoning. It came as no surprise to anyone when Kensed asked T'Vora to bond with him and she accepted. They bought their farm free and clear with the latinum her mother had sewn into the lining of that old, plain brown robe.
Shirela learned her life skills as slowly as possible. It was just slowly enough. A female caseworker became available and Tarsel removed himself from her case. However, he did not absent himself from her life. Within a month of her arrival on New Vulcan, Shirela became Tarsel's bondmate. Their union was immediately fruitful, as Shirela became pregnant with a son.
Guresh and Naren were having dinner when they heard the strangest noise. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the storage shed. They were supposedly the only sentient beings left on Caldena, as Orinar had been recalled to Romulus.
Guresh stood on his arthritic legs.
"We must investigate the sound, Naren. Wild beasts have most likely gotten into the food stores again."
"I am certain that you are correct. We get little enough food, Guresh. I have no wish to share it."
Both men drew their disruptors, ready to dispatch any menacing creature they might meet.
However, when they entered the storage shed, they did not find wild beasts, but rather a dozen Starfleet personnel, commanded by a Vulcan.
Naren prepared to fire but was cut down by a Human male in a red shirt.
Guresh moved as quickly as possible to the rear of the shed, clearly trying to hide something. Spock and two others pursued him. Guresh turned, his back nearly against the war, the collection of three-bladed Klingon war axes forgotten.
Spock advanced and Guresh took another step backward. The blades of a war ax protruded from his chest front, slicing through his heart.
"Do not kill the child!" he cried before breathing his last.
A small boy crawled out from behind a stack of grain barrels. He could not have been more than three years old. The child appeared to be blind. Ensign Johnson, who spoke Romulan, took charge of him. Spock ordered her to beam back to the ship with the child.
Spock and his party began a systematic search of the storage facility. After several hours, they had gone through everything, finding two scroll jars and two tablets. They also confiscated a substantial cache of Romulan weaponry and uniforms. It had been a very productive raid. They beamed up with all of their treasures and left Caldenan orbit as quickly as possible.
Bones checked the little boy over thoroughly and gave Jim and Spock his report.
"He's a Vulcan-Romulan hybrid. The blindness was caused by a blow to the head. I think it can be surgically repaired. He says his name is Senar and that Guresh was hiding him after his mother was killed."
"That is most curious, Doctor."
"How so, Spock?"
"Romulans usually put the disabled out of their misery. They consider it shameful to allow such persons to live. There must have been some kind of relationship between Guresh and the child."
"I bet you're right, Spock. Most likely they were father and son. Now the poor kid is an orphan. I guess we'll be taking him to New Vulcan at some point."
Harivel was one of the Praetor's top aides and a student of antiquities in his leisure time. Something nagged at him from the back of his mind when he read Orinar's report, an itch he couldn't quite scratch. As he was second in authority only to the Praetor, Harivel ordered Orinar recalled to Romulus.
When Orinar arrived, he was summoned to Harivel's private office and served the finest food and ale. Harivel asked him to describe the old "junk" he had sent to New Vulcan with the hybrid women.
Orinar described it in great detail. Harivel had a sickening feeling, but needed to be certain before he acted. He took Orinar to the Praetor's vault and showed him the Ancient Artifacts.
Orinar grew pale. He had given the three women items identical to those that Harivel had just shown him.
"You may yet keep your head. You stated that you have more such items in your possession."
"Yes, I have two more tablets and two more scroll jars in a storage shed on Caldena."
"Take me there."
When Harivel and Orinar arrived on Caldena, they found a most distressing sight. The two guards were dead and the storage shed had been ransacked. Orinar ran to the corner where the Artifacts had been stored, but they were not to be found.
Enraged, Harivel returned to Romulus with Orinar in chains. After an interview with the Praetor, Orinar's head joined Dorist's, side by side on pikes in front of the Imperial Palace.
A/N:
Taking the next few weeks off from writing. See the note on my profile. Thanks!
