Chapter Seven - Problem Mostly Solved
"Damian, get up! I found the answer!"
He groaned and rolled over, squinting at the sudden bright light that appeared in his face. "What is it now?" he grumbled, finally making out a familiar face next to the light. "Don't you realize some people actually SLEEP at night?"
"Oh, sleep. Who cares about sleep? Damian, you didn't hear me. I found the answer."
He blinked up at her sleepily. "Answer to what?"
"Oh, you-!" She slammed a pillow down on his head.
"Hey!" Now he was awake, and his brain finally caught up. "Oh yeah, THAT answer. Wonderful; tell those two people in the morning." He grabbed the pillow she'd thrown and put it over his ears.
And quite abruptly, he found himself with his top half on the floor, his legs still on the narrow bunk of the shuttle. "Ouch!"
"Pay attention!" she scolded him.
"All right, all right, I'm listening!" The rest of him fell to the floor with a thud, and he sat up, rubbing his head. "What's this all about?"
"What's Shardi made of?"
Damian blinked at the sudden turn, and wondered what was up with the sudden trivia question. "It's made up of mainly...iriduim and sulfius, I think. Why?"
"Use your brain! What's the stuff that makes the Embryian trees grow, and that the Kitrack want to mine?"
He finally understood. "Iridium...what, you're planning on reminding them of that?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"...Ael, it took you six days to remember that?!"
"Hey, no one else remembered! What does that say about those Cerioa and Kitrack, hmm?"
Damian sighed and dragged himself back up onto the bunk, not even bothering to lie down straight. "And you had to wake me up for THAT?"
"Of course." Her voice had a slight hint of a teasing note.
"...Go to sleep, Ael."
~~~~~~~
The next day, Allison presented her findings to the Cerioa and the Kitrack. Tchan was impressed, but he still insisted on having the planet for Cerioa uses. Sytrel was slightly more excited that Tchan.
"This is amazing!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe we did not see it earlier! There is so much potential in the moon. Imagine, mining from a MOON!"
Tchan idly examined his front talons. "So, you're giving Shardi to the Kitrack and letting us Cerioa have Embryian? Very interesting strategy, Captain."
"Yes, but it's not enough...the iridium on Shardi will soon run dry!" Sytrel protested.
Tchan's feathers ruffled, and he was in the midst of preparing a retort when Damian stepped in. "I don't believe you've studied those figures closely, Ambassador Sytrel," he smoothly cut in. "The moon is made up of nearly 86.3% iridium. You should have no problem mining for your minerals."
Sytrel's antennae jerked to the side in a surprised gesture, and he looked back at the padd. "Amazing! I cannot believe we never saw the mining potential on Shardi! Without your help, we most likely would not have seen this. You have my clan's ultimate thanks, Captain Danks and Lieutenant Beresford."
"My nesting is indebted to you," Tchan said, gracefully opening his wings and bowing his head in a sign of respect. "Your wisdom is unmatched by any Cerioa."
Allison inclined her head respectfully. "We are glad we have been of service to your respective species. If there are no further issues, Lieutenant Beresford and I will take our leave."
"Of course," Tchan said, rustling his feathers. "May the sun shine and strengthen you." He snapped his "fingers" and vanished in a teleportation move.
Sytrel gave them a similar parting blessing, and exited the room through the same door as before. Allison looked over at Damian. "Well, that was an inconvenient headache," he volunteered.
She snorted. "No kidding. Come on, let's go back to the shuttle and get to the rendezvous point."
~~~~~~~
As the Igen'Zahelsu lifted off, Damian looked over at the Vulcan woman next to him. He watched as she maneuvered the small ship out of the atmosphere of Embryian, slender hands dancing over the control panels as she programmed their course...
Damian shook his head. What the hell was he DOING? This was not like him to think in such a manner...and why were his hands shaking a little?
Allison noticed his sudden confusion. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he quickly jumped to ease her worry, which intensified it slightly instead. "Nothing's wrong. Umm...I think I'm gonna go get some sleep. Can you pilot this thing on your own?"
She frowned. "Damian, of course I can..."
But he was already at the back of the shuttle, lying down on the only bunk in the craft.
Allison stared in his direction for a few moments, then turned back to the panels. But even as she punched up Warp One, her mind was still on the Vulcan man behind her, and how familiar he had acted...
She frowned and sat back in the chair, closing her eyes in concentration. The ship was on an autoprogrammed course, so she didn't need to currently maneuver the ship. So she dug way back in her mind, to her memories of the old Star Trek television show.
Abruptly, her eyes snapped open. No....it couldn't be...could it?
She glanced over her shoulder, and bit her lip. "Damn. This is definitely a problem. He doesn't know...how should I tell him? How do you tell ANYONE about this?"
'It has to do with biology,' Spock's shaky voice said in her mind as she recalled the specific incident. 'Vulcan males must endure it every seventh year of their adult life...'
"Damian, get up! I found the answer!"
He groaned and rolled over, squinting at the sudden bright light that appeared in his face. "What is it now?" he grumbled, finally making out a familiar face next to the light. "Don't you realize some people actually SLEEP at night?"
"Oh, sleep. Who cares about sleep? Damian, you didn't hear me. I found the answer."
He blinked up at her sleepily. "Answer to what?"
"Oh, you-!" She slammed a pillow down on his head.
"Hey!" Now he was awake, and his brain finally caught up. "Oh yeah, THAT answer. Wonderful; tell those two people in the morning." He grabbed the pillow she'd thrown and put it over his ears.
And quite abruptly, he found himself with his top half on the floor, his legs still on the narrow bunk of the shuttle. "Ouch!"
"Pay attention!" she scolded him.
"All right, all right, I'm listening!" The rest of him fell to the floor with a thud, and he sat up, rubbing his head. "What's this all about?"
"What's Shardi made of?"
Damian blinked at the sudden turn, and wondered what was up with the sudden trivia question. "It's made up of mainly...iriduim and sulfius, I think. Why?"
"Use your brain! What's the stuff that makes the Embryian trees grow, and that the Kitrack want to mine?"
He finally understood. "Iridium...what, you're planning on reminding them of that?"
"Yeah, why not?"
"...Ael, it took you six days to remember that?!"
"Hey, no one else remembered! What does that say about those Cerioa and Kitrack, hmm?"
Damian sighed and dragged himself back up onto the bunk, not even bothering to lie down straight. "And you had to wake me up for THAT?"
"Of course." Her voice had a slight hint of a teasing note.
"...Go to sleep, Ael."
~~~~~~~
The next day, Allison presented her findings to the Cerioa and the Kitrack. Tchan was impressed, but he still insisted on having the planet for Cerioa uses. Sytrel was slightly more excited that Tchan.
"This is amazing!" he exclaimed. "I cannot believe we did not see it earlier! There is so much potential in the moon. Imagine, mining from a MOON!"
Tchan idly examined his front talons. "So, you're giving Shardi to the Kitrack and letting us Cerioa have Embryian? Very interesting strategy, Captain."
"Yes, but it's not enough...the iridium on Shardi will soon run dry!" Sytrel protested.
Tchan's feathers ruffled, and he was in the midst of preparing a retort when Damian stepped in. "I don't believe you've studied those figures closely, Ambassador Sytrel," he smoothly cut in. "The moon is made up of nearly 86.3% iridium. You should have no problem mining for your minerals."
Sytrel's antennae jerked to the side in a surprised gesture, and he looked back at the padd. "Amazing! I cannot believe we never saw the mining potential on Shardi! Without your help, we most likely would not have seen this. You have my clan's ultimate thanks, Captain Danks and Lieutenant Beresford."
"My nesting is indebted to you," Tchan said, gracefully opening his wings and bowing his head in a sign of respect. "Your wisdom is unmatched by any Cerioa."
Allison inclined her head respectfully. "We are glad we have been of service to your respective species. If there are no further issues, Lieutenant Beresford and I will take our leave."
"Of course," Tchan said, rustling his feathers. "May the sun shine and strengthen you." He snapped his "fingers" and vanished in a teleportation move.
Sytrel gave them a similar parting blessing, and exited the room through the same door as before. Allison looked over at Damian. "Well, that was an inconvenient headache," he volunteered.
She snorted. "No kidding. Come on, let's go back to the shuttle and get to the rendezvous point."
~~~~~~~
As the Igen'Zahelsu lifted off, Damian looked over at the Vulcan woman next to him. He watched as she maneuvered the small ship out of the atmosphere of Embryian, slender hands dancing over the control panels as she programmed their course...
Damian shook his head. What the hell was he DOING? This was not like him to think in such a manner...and why were his hands shaking a little?
Allison noticed his sudden confusion. "Is something wrong?"
"No," he quickly jumped to ease her worry, which intensified it slightly instead. "Nothing's wrong. Umm...I think I'm gonna go get some sleep. Can you pilot this thing on your own?"
She frowned. "Damian, of course I can..."
But he was already at the back of the shuttle, lying down on the only bunk in the craft.
Allison stared in his direction for a few moments, then turned back to the panels. But even as she punched up Warp One, her mind was still on the Vulcan man behind her, and how familiar he had acted...
She frowned and sat back in the chair, closing her eyes in concentration. The ship was on an autoprogrammed course, so she didn't need to currently maneuver the ship. So she dug way back in her mind, to her memories of the old Star Trek television show.
Abruptly, her eyes snapped open. No....it couldn't be...could it?
She glanced over her shoulder, and bit her lip. "Damn. This is definitely a problem. He doesn't know...how should I tell him? How do you tell ANYONE about this?"
'It has to do with biology,' Spock's shaky voice said in her mind as she recalled the specific incident. 'Vulcan males must endure it every seventh year of their adult life...'