Chapter 12

Vyla had felt a cold shiver when she had been brought back aboard the Emerald Eye. She had lived on the ship for months, and, although she spent just over one of those months running it, she would always see the vessel as a symbol of her oppression.

She had hoped to never return, but the Humans had been so kind to them, so she thought it only fair to help them in any way she could. She was now in the Eye's engine room, assisting Commander Patel, the starbase's chief engineer, in understanding how Orion vessels operated.

Patel grunted in annoyance as she looked into an open panel aside the warp core. The Human woman had been quiet as Vyla had shown her around the cramped engine room, despite attempts to be friendly.

"Everything alright, Commander?" said Vyla.

Patel cast Vyla a quick side-glance. "Your antimatter injector ports don't match up with the assemblies. You must have to realign them every few hours."

Vyla nodded. "We did."

Patel scowled but still did not look Vyla in the eye. "That's insane. Why not just design matching components?"

"Because they're not of Orion design. Not originally, anyway. The Syndicate 'acquires' designs from various species, incorporating them into their own ships."

"Typical," the engineer muttered under her breath.

Vyla wasn't quite sure if Patel meant to insinuate something, but before she could enquire further, the other woman moved over to the main control panel. Keeping aloof, Vyla followed her.

"These EPS relays look Coridanite," Patel said, keeping her back to Vyla. "But the weapons array is almost Andorian-esque. How are those compatible?"

Patel seemed to be talking to herself, but Vyla decided to join in, hoping to warm up their collaboration. "They also require a lot of upkeep. We found that the particle cannons were especially vulnerable to overload; knocks the whole EPS grid offline. Probably why Orion interceptors try to be quick."

"Yeah, your people like to be quick and brutal," Patel said without turning around, her tone grim.

Now Vyla knew there was animosity. She had been pleasant despite Patel's attitude, but now spoke more firmly. "I hate the Syndicate as much as anyone, Commander. They've abused me my whole life. That's why I'm here."

Patel sighed and hung her head. She turned to look Vyla in the eye at last. "I know. I'm sorry. I've had some bad experience with Orions - the Syndicate - and I understand that you're not like them."

While she appreciated the Human's honesty, Vyla still sensed some tension. She placed her hands on her hips and asked, "You just don't like any of us?"

In hindsight, this may have been too biting, as Patel took on a mask of calm fury. "I don't like anyone who steals or kills or perverts themselves as if it's normal, then asks to come into a society where such things are illegal or taboo, and completely disrespects this."

Vyla maintained her stance but her gaze dropped. Even as a slave she had known that the Orion way of life was not widely tolerated in most of the galaxy. It was something she had carefully considered before asking for alien help, eventually deciding that she and her fellow refugees could more easily integrate with another culture than survive much longer on their own. She had, however, also expected the integration to be a two-way process.

"This is the only way we've known for our entire lives," she said evenly. "Some of us, I'll grant you, aren't willing to adapt, but for the rest of us it will take time. We don't want to forget our old selves completely though."

"That's the price you pay for civilisation," Patel snapped.

Vyla looked back up at Patel with an arched eyebrow, recalling what Ambassador Mamao'lani had told her about humanity. "Have Humans always been so civilised?" she asked with only a razor-thin edge of sarcasm.

Patel's mask wavered at this, albeit only slightly. "No. We learned to grow out of materialism and hedonism though."

"And did you have an alien race, on whom you depended, dictating terms to you?"

Patel folded her arms defiantly. "Actually, we had the Vulcans to guide us out of the darkest period of our history."

"Hm. I suppose every Human happily went along with whatever the Vulcans said? That no one wanted to cling onto the old ways and everybody changed for the better overnight?"

Patel's jaw clenched. "Point taken."

Vyla relaxed her posture and stepped closer to the other woman. "All we ask is the opportunity to live safely among you, to eventually become part of your society. After everything we've been through, have we not earned a bit of time first?"

Patel's eyes softened. "And what about those who don't want to change their ways?"

Vyla shrugged. "If they cannot adapt, then they are free to go elsewhere for the first time in their lives. That's also the price of civilisation, is it not?"

The wiry engineer nodded reluctantly. "Maybe. From what I know of Orions though, it will take a lot to alter people's opinions of you. Your every action subject to scrutiny filtered through preconceptions. You'll have to work twice as hard just to be accepted. Do you think you and your friends can handle that responsibility?"

Vyla frowned. "Are Humans still so prejudiced?"

Each woman considered the other's words in heavy silence. After a few moments, Patel resumed her work without answering, while Vyla hoped that none of the other refugees did anything to prove her wrong.

Piras had no significant pheromonal output, hence how easily she'd become a slave, but she'd quickly learned how to manipulate people.

When Vyla had asked for volunteers to return to the Emerald Eye and help Starfleet study the vessel, Piras had immediately stepped up. Having spent a significant amount of time in her Mistress' chambers aboard a similar ship, she was quite familiar with the computer systems - something few slaves could claim.

Once she'd finally talked her way into the opulent chambers of the Eye's former mistress, she'd played around a little with the computer terminal in there, for the benefit of the engineer she was "helping." A mistress' computer would have access to delicate Syndicate files, as well as a private comm system, but Piras saw no need to reveal such secrets.

Despite deliberately entering incorrect access codes and searching for non-existent information, she had managed to ascertain that the computer system was virtually identical to the one she was familiar with.

"I guess it's too different," she lied to the engineer sat next to her at the ornate desk. "I'll keep trying though, something might work." She feigned a cough. "Could I maybe get a glass of water?" she asked, looking up at the Human man with big, helpless eyes.

The engineer was only to happy to oblige, soon leaving her alone in the lavish room. Piras swiftly entered a functional code into the computer terminal. Although a slave, her Mistress had trusted her with limited access, and it was enough to send an encrypted message via the comm system.

A message on a Syndicate channel. A message that, although brief, included the present coordinates of the Emerald Eye.