CHAPTER 8

The thin, gruel-like stew had pieces of meat in it. At least Hoshi thought it was meat. The only thing she was sure of was that she couldn't eat any of it.

Only a short time had passed after F'linu left and the food had been brought to her. The smell had wafted across the room to her as the door opened, and it was all she could do to fight down her rising bile at the greasy aroma. Despite her request to take it away, the Lanari who had brought the bowl of stew left it sitting on the table.

Hoshi took one of the two chairs and moved it as far away from the table as possible. As she sat down, she hoped the distance would quell her stomach's reaction to the smell. She almost smiled as she recalled F'linu's comment that they didn't know how she would react to the knock-out chemical. She'd just let him go on believing that was why she felt poorly. She wasn't about to tell him she was pregnant and, as a result, couldn't stand the smell of greasy meat.

But she really did need to eat, she thought with a grimace. She needed to keep up her strength, not only in the event an opportunity arose to escape, but also for the sake of the baby.

Placing a hand over her abdomen, she wished Malcolm was with her. He'd know what to do. As it was, he probably wouldn't even know something was wrong until she didn't show up at home in three days. She resigned herself to making the best of the situation. Malcolm would eventually come to get her.

Getting up and walking over to the table, she looked down at the bowl of stew. It was going to be a long wait.

Malcolm was on the bridge of the Morning Star, impatiently pacing as he waited for the last of his crew members who had been on Estab to return.

Orwell had moved over to the communications console when Malcolm had stormed onto the bridge after returning from Kleth's ship. The former Starfleet officer was trying to reach someone in the Lanari government who could give them information about Hoshi, but was having no success.

A beep signaled an incoming transmission, and Malcolm swiveled his chair toward Orwell hopefully.

"It's the Falcon, sir," Orwell reported.

For once not rankled by Orwell's adherence to calling him "sir," Malcolm nodded for him to put the transmission on the viewscreen. In a moment, Kleth's fierce visage appeared.

"We are ready, Ma'Com," the Klingon said without preamble.

"We're waiting on the last of our crewmen to re-board, and we'll be ready, too," Malcolm said.

Orwell interrupted from the communications console. "The shuttle has been pulled into the bay, sir," he said. "All personnel are now accounted for."

"Can the Falcon still reach Warp 4?" Malcolm asked Kleth, and saw a vicious grin spread across his friend's face.

"Easily," the Klingon replied.

"Good. Set course for Lanari at Warp 4 and follow us."

"Q'apla!" Kleth shouted, and the viewscreen went dark as the transmission was terminated.

Malcolm settled back in the captain's chair. "Prepare to break orbit," he ordered the helmsman, a tall, slender ex-'fleeter named Sarah Jackson.

Opening a channel to engineering, Malcolm informed Trip they were about to get underway.

"We're going to go to Warp 4 almost immediately," he warned the engineer.

"No problem," Trip said. "This engine purrs like a kitten even at that speed. You got a good one here."

Malcolm cut the connection. Glancing around the bridge, he was gratified to see the crew calmly manning their stations. All but one were former Starfleet members, and he felt justified now that he had deliberately sought them out. Their professionalism, along with whatever experiences they'd had in the service, would be a distinct advantage in this situation.

"Take us out," he told Jackson, who efficiently input the commands into her console.

As the planet slipped away below them, Malcolm's tension lessened a fraction. It had taken several hours to round up all the crew. The entire time he had been anxious, wanting to get underway.

Now they were headed for Lanari, the Falcon behind them and slightly off to port. It was good to finally be doing something.

But it would be another six hours before they reached Lanari, and the panic Malcolm had been holding at bay ever since he'd found out Hoshi had been kidnapped came crashing back.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm himself and fight down the urge to do something -- anything. It didn't work.

Rising from the captain's chair, he told Orwell, "You've got the bridge. Keep trying to contact someone on Lanari who can tell us what's going on."

Malcolm strode over to his office and entered. Sitting down at his desk, he called up information on Lanari. He would familiarize himself with the planet's history and current affairs. The information might come in useful in finding Hoshi.

Closing his eyes again, he visualized her face. How could he have let her go off alone? He prayed she was all right, and felt a prickle of ice-cold fear as he thought about the baby she was carrying. If anything happened to either of them, he'd never forgive himself.

He hadn't been overly concerned when she'd announced that she planned to go on this trip. He was proud of the work she was doing for the Estabi, and the fact that another planet had expressed interest in her assistance had surprised and pleased both of them. For all intents, her visit to Lanari was just another business venture.

Scrolling through the information on the computer screen, he realized that, if either of them had thought to check further than the planet's current medical standards and practices, they would have known she would be going into an unstable state of affairs.

Leaning his head back against his chair, he cursed himself. He'd been out of Starfleet for less than a year, and he was already slacking off. If he'd been given a similar assignment while still in the service, he would have checked it out thoroughly.

Both of them had been so flattered by the invitation that they had taken it at face value. They hadn't considered there might be any danger involved.

He supposed he could blame his preoccupation with the Morning Star for his lack of awareness. He had been so excited about obtaining the ship that he hadn't paid much attention to anything else. The fact that it had taken an entire day after he got home for Hoshi to be able to tell him about the baby was proof of that.

His desire to set up his own business was no excuse, however. How could he have not made Hoshi his first priority? He should have paid more attention, should have checked out things before allowing her to go.

He laughed harshly out loud at that thought. Allow Hoshi to go? She was her own person. He knew that very well. She had once captained a Klingon warbird, for heaven's sake. He couldn't tell her what to do. Their relationship wasn't like that.

But if he had done some research on Lanari, he could have given her that information and urged her not to go. The decision would ultimately have still been hers to make, but she may not have gone.

With an angry mutter at fate, he punched in more commands for his computer, calling up every scrap of information he could find on Lanari and its current political situation.

Trip and Slanea were standing side by side, monitoring the engine controls. Trip was silent as they made minute adjustments to keep the Morning Star flying smoothly at warp 4, and Slanea hadn't said anything other than what was necessary since they'd returned from the Falcon. She watched him out of the corner of her eye as they worked.

When they'd found out that the captain's mate had been kidnapped, they had immediately returned to the Morning Star to prepare to rescue her. Slanea had felt a surge in her blood she hadn't expected to have after signing on with this ship.

She was Klingon, after all. Honor and circumstances had forced her to live outside the Empire. She wasn't happy about it, but it was the only recourse with any semblance of honor open to her.

Finding employment with a human captain had been demeaning, and her irritation at her situation had found a convenient outlet in this human standing beside her. Trip had been correct -- they were like oil and water when mixed.

But she was coming to admire both Trip and her captain. She'd had no idea that humans understood the concept of honor, much less practiced it. That they knew and admired other Klingons surprised her, but not as much as Captain Reed's adherence to Klingon tradition in his dealings with her.

She had tried to find out more about the time the captain and Trip had spent aboard the Falcon, but none of this crew had been with them then. She only heard vague stories of the captain's mate seeking revenge and a space battle involving pirates and Starfleet.

Now they were on the way to a new planet to rescue the captain's mate who had been abducted by force. An honorable quest, to be sure. She hadn't thought that she would be part of anything like this outside the Empire. She sighed contentedly at her good fortune.

Hearing her sigh, Trip glanced over at her and asked, "Somethin' wrong?"

"No," she barked automatically, then made an effort to moderate her tone. "I was thinking about what we are doing."

"Good. Keep your mind on the monitors and we should be fine."

"No, I didn't mean that," she said. "I meant going to find the captain's mate. It is an honorable endeavor."

Trip smiled slightly as he made another adjustment. "I thought humans didn't have any honor."

When she didn't answer, he looked over to find her contemplating him.

"Are you trying to be...uncivil?" she asked uncertainly.

He grinned broadly, realizing that she was making an effort to get along with him. "No, I'm not tryin' to be uncivil. I'm teasin' ya."

"Teasing?"

"Yeah. It's like makin' fun of someone, but it's not meant in a bad way. And you only do it to people you like."

He turned back to the controls as she mulled over what he had just said. It wasn't often he got the last word in. Taking advantage of her continued silence, he changed the subject. "So, what did ya think of Kleth?"

A disconcerting series of snorts came from Slanea and he glanced over at her in alarm. What he saw was even more amazing. She was the laughing. It was the first time he had ever seen her do that.

When she finally stopped, she gasped out, "Why do you ask? Are you jealous?"

"Are you tryin' to be uncivil?" he asked, throwing her own words back at her but giving her a smile to show he wasn't angry.

"No," she said and sobered. "I am just...teasing."

When she smiled again, Trip couldn't help but smile back. Shaking his head, he turned to the controls, and she did the same. They worked in companionable silence for a time, until Trip couldn't stand it any more.

"So," he said, keeping his eyes on the controls. "What did ya think of Kleth?"

If he'd been looking at her, he would have been able to dodge the blow she landed on his shoulder.

Hoshi forced herself to eat a little of the stew. She found it tasted almost as bad as it smelled. Putting down the spoon, she pushed the bowl away from her, wishing her nausea would go away.

Deep breaths weren't helping this time, and she fleetingly wondered if she really was having a reaction to the substance used to knock her out. When she'd regained consciousness and had felt the same way as she had the last several mornings, she had blamed it on her pregnancy. Now she wasn't so sure.

She stood up and made her way unsteadily to the door. She knew it was locked, but she tried turning the handle any way. When it didn't give, she began knocking, then pounding on the door, trying to get someone's attention.

Somebody better open the door pretty soon, she thought as she brought a hand up to cover her mouth. If they didn't, there was going to be one awful mess to clean up.

She had to stop banging on the door to lean against the wall next to it as a wave of dizziness engulfed her. She was panting heavily and breaking out in a sweat, trying not to throw up, when the door was flung open.

The Lanari male took one look at her distressed face, grabbed her arm, and dragged her out of the room and down the corridor. She managed to keep the stew down until he opened another door to reveal a bathroom, and she stumbled over to the commode.

She heard him quietly close the door between them as she leaned over and expelled every bite she had eaten. By the time she was finished, she was shaking and weak. So much for trying to keep her strength up, she thought grimly.

She pulled herself to her feet, clinging to the sink, and turned the water on. Splashing some cold water on her face made her feel better, as did rinsing out her mouth.

A polite rap at the door startled her.

"Yes?" she called out.

"Are you all right?" asked the Lanari who had escorted her to the bathroom.

"I'm better, thank you."

"You need to come out of there and return to your room."

"Give me a minute," she said and splashed more water on her face.

Grabbing some paper-like towels next to the sink, she dried her face and hands, looking around with interest at the bathroom. There was a window on the far wall of the small room. Peering out, she could see she was on the ground level of the building.

But it was the landscape that caught her attention. She was no longer in the capital city. As far as she could see, there was lush green jungle. There wasn't another structure to be seen.

Where had they taken her?