Chapter Two
Surprises
At precisely 0700, Commander Charles Tucker pressed the signal button to quarters E/58. He did not have long to wait, the door slid aside almost immediately. The woman inside was dressed in a flowing garment of green, decorated with scores of flowers of every variety and hue. It reached just past her hips, baring a generous length of golden legs. Low green slippers completed the brief garment. Trip gave a low whistle of appreciation.
"I if like it would ask you do, but I think there is need not." She said softly in a voice like ear candy, a mellow seductiveness that could not be diminished.
"You always have that effect on me." He admitted. In the two weeks since she had undergone a phase in the life cycle of an Auran known as the 'luuru', the woman had been gradually readjusting to her new life aboard Enterprise, just as the crew had been 'adjusting' to the changes in her.
They had come to know her as a somewhat petit young woman of apparently some twenty years, with a complexion, hair and eyes distinctly that of a species that was almost wholly humanoid but which had evolved on a world where gold was as plentiful as iron was on earth. That the gold required an extra molecular bond with oxygen to be carried by the blood mattered little to others, and none to him.
Now, she had seemed to mature almost ten years, at least in body, literally over a day. In personality and character she was completely unchanged, but where humans had the luxury of going through that particular phase of their life cycle over several years, Aurans had to endure it in one cataclysmic day.
As a result, she appeared to be in about her late twenties, more closer to Trip's age. He was comforted by this, but there was much more to adjust to.
Inside she was still the same, a refugee of a harsh life as a slave, a member of a subjugated species just discovering the joy of life, and the freedom to become who she truly was in an atmosphere of freedom and liberty.
And a hidden part within her, the part no one saw save him, had no idea who that was ultimately going to be.
"You look beautiful." He told her.
"Ealyiis, Shar-les." She said softly, almost shyly, in a melodious, almost sweetly seductive voice. She reached out and took his right hand and, raising it palm up, touched her lips to his wrist. It was not a kiss, but an Auran greeting exchanged among friends. She did it with the members of the crew she considered such. However, he noticed that she tended to linger just a breath longer with him. Her eyes looked up to his, and there was more of a smile in those golden orbs than even on her lips.
She released him a moment later, straightening, a secret something tugging at her golden lips. He did not return the gesture, feeling it ingenuous to do so, and she had never appeared to expect it. It was different than when she would touch her lips to his neck; that was usually understood to be a prelude to something more intimate than they would do in this corridor. Clearing his throat, he continued as naturally as he could.
"I thought we'd have breakfast together." He knew very well she usually met Ensigns Sato and Cutler for her meals, but he had wanted to have some free time with her. And judging by the 'dress' she had worn; he had to doubt that his appearance at her door was a complete surprise.
"That I to do would very much like, Shar-les." He smiled. He also doubted he would ever get completely used to her fractured, sometimes outright shattered, syntax. He knew that, despite her long efforts to learn English so she would not be dependant upon the somewhat unreliable Universal Translator, she still thought in her native Auran, and tended to translate the thoughts verbatim. It made conversations with her somewhat adventurous.
"That's a really nice dress." He said appreciatively. "But what does Lt. Abrams think of your coming to 'work' like that?"
"It matters to him not. Today my first reddo is."
"Huh?" Was this some obscure Auran thing, as if everything about Auran were not obscure to him. Was this a holiday, some observance, some …?
"You know do." She said in a surprised tone, as if he had missed something that should be more obvious to him than to her. "You have reddos too." He thought even harder, resisting the urge to check his uniform.
"I do?"
"Daai." She insisted with a smile, pronouncing it 'day-aye'. "Five days do you labor, or could if like the Engineering so much you did not, and two you do not."
"Ah." Light dawned. "R.D.O. Regular Day Off."
"Daai, silly one!"
"Well, in that case, I'll escort you to breakfast, and you can get on with your 'reddo-ing'."
She giggled delightedly, took his offered right arm, and he escorted her down the corridor. They were able to walk side by side a little differently than before, somewhat more comfortably, as she no longer had to look up at him. One of the 'consequences' of the 'luuru', aside from a somewhat more 'womanly' physique, was an increase of slightly more than 5 inches in height.
'Talk about a growth spurt'. He thought. He kept the thought to himself, however. It was true that her matured body brought her to the fulfillment of her physical development, but it had come at a cost of almost unimaginable agony as every part of her body was forced through massive changes. Liz and Hoshi had told him things that Tia had never even hinted at, and left him feeling the same amazement for this young woman as he had always felt.
In fact, he had to admit that 'amazement' was a frequent sensation wherever Tia was concerned. "So, what's it like?" He asked. "Getting used to it?" She shook her head.
"Nyas. I 'used to it' am getting nyasi."
"It's been two weeks."
"Oh, my body to I getting used am. It my friends is." He looked at her curiously. "Liz, Hoshi, Jennifer, Ann, Dina, Andrea, they … 'in stride'?" He nodded. "In stride it take. Same with men on the bridge it is. And Phlox. But others, they the same nyasi."
"In what way?"
"They …" She hesitated, lost for a second. "I know not. I the words describe it to can find nyasi." She visibly hunted for the way to express a thought that was clearly alien to her. "Humans used I am to not, even after 8 goslin. With Aurans different it is. It is that only is the luuru unusual nyasi, but … well, look at me people different do." She walked a little in silence. "Some with it I like. Some I do nyasi."
"It's going to take people a while to get used to the change." She shook her head.
"It that is alone nyasi. I …" She shook her head. "I do know nyasi. Liz and Hoshi, they know do. Explain it they did, but sometimes what they say do; sense it makes nyasi."
He could well sympathize with that. He spent most of his attention in conversations with her just interpreting what she said, and imagined that to her English must be just as unintelligible. Even when she got 'colloquial' English, there were expressions, connotations and simple 'slang' that frequently still mystified her. "What do they say?"
"When ask I Liz of why men so strangely at me look; says she it to do with has 'a walking wet dream' I am."
Trip sputtered, caught completely off guard, almost losing a step. In retrospect, he knew he should not have been so surprised, knowing the Biologist as he did, but in the moment he was startled. She looked at him, misinterpreting his response. "See? Sense her words make not!"
"Oh, they make sense, all right." He indulged in a look at her voluptuous form, even with the flowing short floral 'dress'. "Perfect sense."
She shook her head. "Nyas. How a 'dream' walk can? And how 'wet' one be can?"
"Whoo." He breathed feelingly. "That's a 'hail' of a question." And he really wished he could fend it off on Hoshi or Liz Cutler to answer.
Then again, he probably should have seen it coming. She was quite different, yet the same, almost like an older sister of herself. And while the entire crew knew she was his 'special friend' (to put it politely), he had never really put out any 'no poaching' signs. He'd really never thought of it, had never conceived of any 'need' to. Now, looking at the concern in her eyes, he wondered if maybe he should consider it after all.
But at that moment Jonathan Archer and Malcolm Reed met them from an intersecting corridor. Morning greetings were briefly exchanged, Tia in her own manner greeting each of them with a touch of lips upon right wrists, but where the touch with Trip lingered, this was but a brief contact. Each man was quite used to this gesture, and since she'd never indicated it should be returned, neither did. But then Tia turned back from Reed to Archer, her normal impetuous excitement resurfacing.
"Wrenaouq Archer, may I you a favor of ask?" She almost tried to keep the excitement in her tone down. Might as well keep a helium balloon down.
"If I can give it."
"The Auran ship. I it to contact wan-." She bit it off, not wanting to sound too forward. "… need." She asked hopefully.
Jonathan tried to keep his thoughts from showing on his face. They had had this discussion three times over the past weeks. "Miss Anlor, we've discussed this. If they are out there, they are surely running silent to escape detection by the Silurians. If we start talking to them, it may give away their position and do more harm than good."
"But idea this we discuss did nyasi!" She insisted, excitedly.
'When doesn't she sound excited or enthused?' He thought. "What?"
"A signal single; something recognize they would but the Silurians nyasi." When he did not turn her down, she continued, emboldened. "One phrase, on a frequency that we used in secrecy; the Silurians it knew nyasi."
"You mean, when you left." Reed pointed out. She would not be daunted.
"One phrase. 'Auranli eda.' 'Auran I am'. If receive it they do, find us they will! Need for them to answer nyas!"
Archer regarded the enthused young woman carefully, noting most of all a controlled but clearly greater desperation than he'd seen the last time they'd spoken about this, some two weeks ago. He recognized she was trying to come up with a solution he would agree to. He did not care for this one any more than the others, as this one sounded like it had the potential of drawing the Silurian ship to them.
But on the other hand, how many times could he keep turning her down? Perhaps he could come up with something with Hoshi's aid. "I'll think about it and give you my answer."
"But Wrenaouq - !"
He held up a firm hand. "I said I'll think about it."
She backed down, looking to the deck. "Daai, Wrenaouq."
x
"Well," Archer said, breaking the moment, "I'm sure we're all looking forward to meeting with our new guests."
"And choosing which one stays with us." Malcolm agreed.
"I bet I know which one you'll choose." Trip said with a barely disguised grin. He'd seen the many covert looks the Security Chief had given the extremely attractive woman Priest the previous afternoon.
Reed nodded. "Father Pineda."
Archer and Tucker could not have been more surprised. Trip was the first to recover.
"I thought for sure you'd want that very pretty Mother McCabe."
"Well, you thought wrong." Both officers were mildly surprised at the real emotion underscoring Reed's words. He'd tried to keep it down, but had not succeeded at all.
Archer opened his mouth to say something, but another man's voice spoke instead. "Security to Lt. Reed." The Security Chief stepped over to the comm panel.
"Reed here."
"Cein, sir. There's a problem in guest quarters, D deck. Our new visitors." Reed turned to Archer and Tucker, but addressed the panel.
"We're on our way."
Trip turned to Tia, ready to apologize for having to leave her behind, but she shook her head, understanding the urgency in the crewmember's tone.
The three officers strode down the corridor, not wasting a second.
xxx
By the time they arrived at the indicated quarters there were three Security guards keeping a small knot of curious crewmen and women who were coming onto and off duty from being able to see into an open room. The only one not in Starfleet blue was Mother McCabe, her black trousers and royal blue shirt a notable exception to the uniformity of color in the small crowd. She turned to the three officers as they approached, her face lined with distress. Her attention focused on Reed.
"I called Security when I couldn't get an answer from him. Your guard opened the door." Malcolm took in her worried features and continued past her, coming to a stop in the doorway. A moment later the Captain and Chief Engineer joined him.
Rev. Father George Pineda lay upon the bunk, the picture of placid repose. The long hilt of a knife protruded from the center of his chest. His pajamas and much of the bunk and deck were covered in pools of blood.
