Chapter 8

North strode furiously into the Detention Centre, his long gait putting him well ahead of Vyla, who followed him.

He had been informed of Captain Thorpe's fracas with one of the Orion refugees in Sal's Diner, and it had boiled his normally icy demeanour. The political situation was already precarious enough, he didn't need his staff - especially his First Officer - making things worse. He had also felt a deep embarrassment that one of his people and one of Vyla's had come to blows, but he felt obligated to inform her. As a small consolation, she had been as mortified and apologetic as he was.

He stood in the middle of the Centre, equidistant from each holding cell, Vyla soon catching up. He nodded to the security officer on duty. "Let them out."

Three thick, transparent metal doors slid open, and Thorpe, Sal, and the Orion he learned was called Damoth emerged, each looking guilty. Thorpe and Damoth also looked particularly bruised and battered.

Restraining his fury, he spoke to them in a lecturing tone. "In the interest of diplomacy, as well as the fact that none of you are willing to press charges, you will all be released. But this behaviour will not be tolerated on my base, and will not go entirely unpunished."

He turned to Thorpe, who stood to attention. "Captain, I'm most disappointed in you. You've been doing well in proving yourself an exemplary officer and commander. I shan't be issuing any formal reprimand, however, this incident shall be noted in my log, and may hamper your career progression."

"Understood, sir," Thorpe said gravely.

North now turned to Sal. "Ms. Tiviér, I have no direct authority over you, but your business is on-site at my discretion. Any further assaults on personnel or visitors and you will have to set up shop elsewhere, is that clear?"

Sal bristled, but clenched her jaw and said, "Yes, Commodore."

Lastly, North moved onto Damoth, looking up at the brutish figure. It was rare North encountered anyone taller than him, but he showed no intimidation. "Mr. Damoth, you are also here because of my courtesy, I do not appreciate having it thrown back in my face."

Damoth sneered at North and looked ready to argue - which gelled with what Vyla had told him about the hulking Orion on the way down - when Vyla herself spoke.

"What were you thinking?" she said, more disappointed than angry. "The Humans can protect us, and this is how you carry on? You make us all look bad with antics like that. I know the the Earth ways are different, but we left our old life behind to come here. We have to be respectful if we want to stay safe. That means following the local laws and customs."

Damoth, to North's surprise, seemed cowed by this. "Sorry, Vyla," the large man said. "I won't let it happen again."

Vyla was also taken aback by this response, although North was a little suspicious of Damoth's wording. Regardless, Vlya seemed to accept it, nodding. North dismissed the troublesome trio, and the security officer saw them out.

Now alone together, Vyla sighed. "I'm sorry again about Damoth, Commodore."

"Don't worry about it, Vyla. My officer was just as much to blame."

Vyla scoffed. "I'm certain Damoth started it though. He and some of the others are finding it difficult to adjust."

"Understandable."

"I think something's got them riled up. I thought they'd be happy to find a safe haven, even if only for a short while, but some are quite aggressive about the idea of playing nice with Humans." She smiled thinly at North. "They've been slaves so long, I suppose they're just concerned about trading one master for another."

North stepped towards her, hurt by the accusation. "You must reassure them that's not the case. We only want to help."

Vyla smiled more warmly at him now. "I know. 'Let me help' is the most powerful statement in the galaxy, remember? It will just take the others time to trust, that's all."

North nodded and recalled a communiqué he'd received this morning. "Speaking of trust: Starfleet Command has asked me to have your ship analysed while we're waiting for the asylum outcome. I know it's just a pleasure barge, not a warship, but anything we learn could be of help in any future skirmishes with other Orions.

"I was hoping you and some of your people would help brief my crew on the ship's systems? You did spend an awfully long time aboard."

Vyla grinned at this. "Of course! Happy to help. I'll put together some volunteers. Is it okay if we come up with your crew though? We were pretty much learning how to run the ship on the go without a manual, so most of it would be easier to show than tell."

"Certainly," said North, smiling.

In fact, Starfleet - still somewhat distrustful - had specifically advised him not to allow any Orions back on board their vessel unless necessary. He just couldn't disappoint Vyla though. Anyway, what was the worst that could happen?

Once out of the Detention Centre, Damoth had done nothing more than glare at Thorpe before heading away from him and Sal. Thorpe was quietly grateful that the much bigger man was not looking to resume their fight.

Sal herself was also silent, storming off in a different direction. Thorpe caught up to her. "Hey, Sal, sorry about all this. I didn't mean for it to get out of hand."

"Forget about it," she said flatly.

But Thorpe was not satisfied with this. "What was Damoth saying to you in the diner, before I came up? You looked upset."

"Forget about that too," Sal said, turning to face Thorpe with an angry expression.

Thorpe held up his hands. "I'm not trying to hit on you this time. I'm just worried about you."

"Your worry got my diner trashed, Captain, so I'll thank you to leave me alone in future. I told you before: You don't know what you're getting into."

With that, she continued walking away from him, leaving Thorpe confused but no less concerned.