Dressed in his best suit, a beautiful woman on his arm, the atmosphere a swirl of music and conversation and laughter and joy, he should have been having a great time. He had loved to dance from a young age, way back when the other kids at school had laughed and called him gay because of it. Tonight was a formal ball; all partnered dancing, both fast and slow. It should have been joyous.
It seemed to be for everyone else. Nwabudike and his partner were laughing as they twirled, Tholiar and Chief Fran (an unlikely couple in the captain's eyes) were stumbling along but enjoying themselves none the less, even Doctor Sarn was dancing, her partner, Brok, following clumsily; and around them, hundreds of other Starfleet and exchanged officers glided across the dance floor.
Drake was going through the motions, putting on a credible show, but his heart wasn't in it.
His partner noticed. She said quietly, "What's with you tonight?"
"Pardon?"
"You danced better than this at the first year summer ball, and you had a sprained ankle."
"I fell during the assault course," he remembered.
"Right. What's wrong, Will?"
"Nothing. It's nothing."
"William Leonard Drake," she sounded so much like his mum when she said that – he suspected that was the effect she was going for, "you're a lousy liar. Out with it, and that's an order."
"Equal rank."
"Seniority," she reminded him, although he knew it perfectly well.
"Yes, Ma'am. I'm thinking about one of my crew."
Jane Frude, captain of the Daedalus-class Excelsior, had been a friendly rival – or perhaps competitor was a better word – of Drake's since their Academy days. Despite this long acquaintance, she didn't know him as well as Nwabudike or Hiro Matsura did. They would have known immediately who he was talking about, while Jane frowned and asked, "Who?"
"Alex." After a moment of blankness, he felt obliged to clarify, "Nain."
"She's your helmsman, isn't she? The tom-boyish one?"
"She prefers to be called a ladette."
Jane wrinkled her nose. The word was new to her, and she didn't like the sound of it. "What's that?"
"Don't know, really. I think it just means tomboy. She's British," he explained.
"So what's worrying you about her?"
"I haven't seen a lot of her lately is all. It just…I don't know. She hasn't been around. That's not like her."
"Is that a crush?"
"No."
Jane nodded. "Good. Because I'd hate to have to give you the shipboard-romances-are-a-bad-idea talk. I had to remind my XO, Abish, of that the other day."
"We're just friends," insisted Drake. "Anyway…Alex…I don't think she does relationships. One night stands are her thing."
"Then what's the matter?"
"Like I said, she hasn't been around. She's not even here tonight."
"From the sounds of her," said Jane, hiding her disinterest behind a kindly smile, "a fancy ball doesn't seem like her sort of event."
"I suppose so."
In truth, Alex's absence tonight did not surprise Drake. When he had first mentioned the ball to her, her reply could politely be paraphrased as "No, not for all the wealth in the Syndicate" and in reality had made frequent use of the f-word, usually in sentences like "Me, at a ball? Are you f-ing mad?"
So no, he had not honestly expected her this evening, but that she wasn't here upset him all the same. He hadn't seen much of her lately. And when his emotionless Vulcan exchange officer was present and his fun-loving human friend wasn't, what did that say about the state of affairs?
It wasn't like he would have even expected her to dance. She could have come for the drink. It was free, fizzy, and alcoholic – three of her favourite things. He had thought that might tempt her, but no, she had stayed away.
He shouldn't have let her absence upset him so much, he knew. It wasn't like they were dating, he hadn't asked her to be his partner, and she had said she wasn't coming. She was just a friend, but a very special friend.
He endeavoured to put her out of his mind and enjoy himself. In the former he was quite successful, but as for the later…no one can force themselves to have fun. He danced and he danced well, few others able to match his competence and passion on the floor. He swapped partners several times, and even the most flat-footed of them glided under his lead. On some level he was even quite satisfied with the quality of his performance, but some critical element of fun was missing.
He found himself dancing with Sarn at one point. He tried to be fair to her on the ship, but he had always disliked Vulcans; thought them as cold, aloof, arrogant. He was surprised to find out how well she danced, how much…feeling she put into it. If she was the heartless automaton he had always believed Vulcans to be, how could she dance with such passion? Had he, perhaps, miss-judged her?
When they came off the dance floor, Drake invited Sarn to join himself, Nwabudike and Jane, while they sat, drank, and shared stories of recent adventures. Frude had been on border patrol for three months, and had had a skirmish with a Klingon bird of prey, which made for a good story. Nwabudike had been on a diplomatic mission to Bolarus, the Bolian home world. When Drake told his friends what he had been doing, they winced.
"Ouch," said Jane. "Scientific duty?"
"Nothing but. We surveyed two comets, one planet, and what…? Sixteen moons."
"Seventeen," corrected Sarn.
"Seventeen?" He thought a moment. "Oh. You mean the asteroid out by that big blue gas giant."
"Yes, sir. It was in orbit around the planet, and therefore technically a moon."
It had been a puny little rock, about the size of Manhattan Island, and Drake really didn't think it should count; but he wasn't about to argue scientific technicalities with Sarn. Not after two glasses of champagne. "Seventeen moons."
"The admiral must hate you."
"He always has."
Jane remembered, "That's right. You were on Kyoto together, with Matsura."
"That's right."
"What did you do to get in his bad books, Will?"
"Nothing."
"That seems unlikely, Captain."
Drake shook his head. "We're illogical human beings, Doctor. We can hate someone for no reason. Maybe just because they have a funny accent, or a silly haircut."
"Those are reasons, sir."
"She's got a point," agreed Nwabudike. "And you do have a funny accent."
"I do not!"
"Sure you do. Luna-boomers always have odd accents. All those different nationalities mashed together in a tight space…you get a sort of mix of all different accents."
Jane was quick to join in the game. "You're from Tyco City, aren't you? That's the most popular destination for people emigrating from Earth."
"No wonder he's got such a silly accent," Nwabudike grinned at his fellow captain.
"See what you've started?" Drake complained.
Sarn replied, "My apologies, Captain."
If he had looked deep into her dark eyes, he would have seen a faint hint of amusement. Behind her Vulcan reserve, she was enjoying herself.
"How long do you think McCaffrey is going to keep you on scientific detail?"
"Until the heat death of the universe. Why? Are you keen to take our place?"
Jane shrugged. "I wouldn't object. Border patrol is no fun. At least exploration gives you something new to look at, not just the same patch of space for three months."
"At least you got to see some action."
"I suppose. We were lucky, though. The Daedalus, Icarus, Helios, and Helix were out there with us, and they saw nothing. Hiro was jealous."
"I'll bet," laughed Drake. Hiro Matsura, captain of the Daedalus, was a soldier – gifted in battle, weak at everything else. He had played a leading role in the Battle of Cheron at the end of the Romulan War, and for his part in that critical victory Starfleet had awarded him with the captaincy of the Daedalus-class prototype. These days, he was on a near-permanent patrol of the Klingon border. If anything ever happened, his talent for battle would be vital. If anything ever happened.
"For my part," continued Drake, "I would settle for a different kind of boredom."
"It may be a possibility."
The captain perked up. "Really?"
"Yes. There are many uncharted systems along the Klingon border."
The three humans stared at her blankly for a moment. Then Jane and Nwabudike began to laugh, while Drake asked, "Was that a joke?"
"Of course not, Captain."
After careful consideration, he decided to laugh anyway.
In point of fact, Sarn had meant for the comment to be humorous. Her fellow Vulcans would not have approved, but Sarn was used to their disapproval by now. She had rejected kholinar, shunned several of Sarek's teachings, rejected the mate her family had selected for her, killed him in the heat of the Pon Farr blood fury, and had insisted on being posted aboard a ship full of illogical humans. Her family had long since disowned her, declaring that she was no longer their daughter, that she could go and make her own mistakes in the world, they did not care.
So she had.
Regrets were illogical. She had none anyway, she told herself.
"What's funny?" Asked a very familiar and welcome voice.
"Sweet damn! You came after all," said Nwabudike, beating Drake to it by a second.
Alex Nain grinned impishly. "Sure. Free booze and the chance to watch COs make pratts of themselves. Why wouldn't I?"
"You were categorical that you would not attend when the captain suggested it."
"Hey, Sarn. Yeah, I know. I had a change of heart. Besides, I heard that Will's been keeping a little secret from me."
He smiled at her. "Balance. You keep secrets from me."
"Yeah, but none of mine are as good. You never told me that you can dance."
Drake was nonchalant. "I don't like to boast."
"Yeah? Show me your moves." She held out her hand.
He was sceptical; he knew Alex far too well, knew her character, what interested her. Somehow, the foxtrot and tango didn't sit nicely with her hobbies of drinking and belching contests. "Can you dance?"
"I can do everything," she replied, her grin growing. "Come on, I'll show you."
He took her hand and let her lead him onto the dance floor. Everyone had dressed up for this occasion, some more than others. Drake was wearing an elegant black suit and tie, as were most men; the majority of women were clad in silky evening dresses, while the non-human members of the congregation wore their species' version of formal evening wear. Alex, as was typical for her, broke the pattern. She was dressed pretty much in her normal clothes, except that the material was of higher quality, and there was some added decoration, patterns stitched into the front of the vest and down the sides of her trouser legs. These clothes were platinum, with gold trimming, as opposed to her regular sky-blue and silver. Although not as spectacular as the dresses the other women were wearing, this look suited Alex far better. She had never been the most feminine woman that Drake knew, and he found it hard to imagine her in a dress.
Drake led, Alex following smoothly, surprising the captain no end. In addition to not being able to picture her in a dress, he had never imagined her as a dancer. Not this kind of dance, anyway. Maybe the nightclub, crowded floor, dirty gyrations kind of dancing, but not ballroom. It was just too…clean for her.
"You're full of surprises."
"Here's another one for you," she said, quietly, so that only her captain could hear her. "I need a few days."
"For what?"
He led her through a pirouette, her long cloak flying around them both as she span. Against the blur of white and gold, her red hair and eyes stood out prominently. Somehow, her eyes always seemed to be on him, even when her head was turned.
"Leave."
He still didn't get it. "We're on leave now."
"Technically, we're just inactive, and with a starbase to hang out on. I need to go away from the station, take my ship for a spin. I could be a while."
"Where? Why?"
Should I lie? Wondered Alex. She could have told her friend a plausible fiction, one that would have kept him happy. Probably happier than the truth, but something in the way he looked at her compelled her to be honest, "A friend of mine has some information he needs to share with me."
Drake couldn't help being curious. "What sort of information?"
"I don't know; that was all he told me. He doesn't like to say too much over non-secure channels. I can't blame him, really."
"Why?"
Oops, thought Alex. She had been trying to tell Drake what she was going to do without mentioning exactly who her 'friend' was – the truth, just not the whole truth. Now, the only way that she could answer without lying was to say something that would upset him. She decided to stick with honesty. "He's part of the Cartel."
The captain's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. At the same time, a confusing mixture of anger, worry, and betrayal rolled through his eyes. His dancing became tenser, more aggressive, and Alex knew that he was very upset. "The Cartel?" Was what he said, in a tone that warned that lies would not be tolerated.
Which was a pity, Alex thought, as she had been considering abandoning her honesty is the best policy approach.
"That's right."
Drake was not impressed. The Cartel was the biggest organised crime institution in the known galaxy. It had come into being at almost the same time as the Federation itself, and some considered it to be the criminal underworld's response to the formation of that immense political and military union; hundreds of criminal organisations of different species had banded together under a common banner. Today, they were a threat to fledgling colonies everywhere, and a perennial headache for the law-enforcers of the Federation. Drugs and arms trade, prostitution, murder, robbery, extortion, the Cartel was involved in everything going.
And Alex was connected to it.
"You never told me you had dealings with the Cartel!"
"I don't!" She protested, upset herself now. "Will, do you honestly think I would work for those murdering, slave-trading fuckers?"
He hoped, he honestly hoped, that she wouldn't; that she would never sink that low. But it was a possibility. There was a dark side to his friend, and he had seen it. A part of her that was capable of just about anything.
She read his mind, but she didn't stop dancing, and she didn't let him stop either. If they came off the dance floor, their conversation would no longer be private, and he was the only person whom she wanted to know any of this. Sarn and Nwabudike were friends – she didn't know the other captain – but there were aspects of her life that she wouldn't trust them with; this was one of them.
"You have a very low opinion of me."
On the contrary, Captain Drake thought more highly of Alex than she did. "You said that your friend is with the Cartel."
"Yeah."
"They don't deal with any but their own."
"That's usually true," she agreed. A smile started to pull at her lips again, as her fiery temper rapidly cooled. "But my 'friend' is a little different. He owes me a favour that he'll never be able to repay, so from time to time he slips useful bits of information my way. It helped no end when I was a privateer. And when we were on Challenger, during the war, he always let me know if he heard about Romulan fleet movements in our sector."
"That's how you were so well informed."
"Right. I haven't heard from him in a while now. Last night, I got a message. He sounded anxious. I don't know what he wants to tell me, but I know it's urgent. I have to go."
He had known Alex for years now; he could tell when she was being open and honest with him, when she was hiding things to further her own agenda, and when she was just lying for the sake of it. Right now, she was being as honest as she ever was (there was still something…that big secret that she had carried from the day he had met her). He believed and trusted her.
But he was sorry that she would be going. Would he never get to share any quality time with his buddy?
"Granted."
"Great! Thanks, Will. Come with me?"
For the second time that night, he almost lost his footing. Had she…? "Did you…?"
"Yeah. Come with me."
"Why?"
She shrugged, smoothly incorporating the bob of her shoulders into the rhythm of their dance. "There are some rough characters where I'm going, Will. They might try to take advantage of poor defenceless little me. But they'd think twice if I had a big, beefy partner with me."
Flattering, he thought as he laughed. "Alex, I've never met anyone you can't wipe out without breaking a sweat."
"Okay… Maybe I just want to spend some time with my mate. Is that so wrong? Besides, you've shown me your world. It's about time I repaid the favour."
He was heartened by her offer, and he accepted it, looking forward to the glimpse into the underworld that she was offering him. But he didn't believe that it was really her world that he would see; he didn't believe that she had one. She spent her life wandering, walking through other peoples' worlds like a tourist, never setting down any roots, never belonging, always leaving ample signs of her passing. She came into lives, touched them, changed them, and moved on. For a time, she would rest in one place, play at living a normal life, but eventually she would move on. He had known that about her from the moment they had met.
A part of him dreaded the eventual, inevitable day when she left his life.
He thought he knew why she was always moving on. It had something to do with the big secret she carried, something to do with her red eyes. He wished that she would let him in on it. Then she wouldn't have to go.
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"Where the hell did you learn to dance like that?" Nwabudike Lal demanded as they rejoined their friends.
"What do you mean?" Grinned Alex. She was still buzzing from her dancing. Will had been by far and away the best partner that she had ever had. They had worked perfectly together, their moves meshing together harmoniously. She wished that they had had the opportunity to dance together before, but she hadn't even known that he danced. She hadn't thought it the sort of thing her frontiersman friend would be into.
The roguish Captain Lal was chuckling to disguise his astonishment. "I didn't have you pinned as a ballroom dancer."
"What? Are you saying I've got no class?" She snatched a glass of bubbly white wine from a passing server and drained the contents in one go. She burped loudly.
"No class at all," Nwabudike told her.
"Indeed not," said Sarn.
"I'm getting picked on," she complained to Drake.
"They were having a go at me earlier. Something about having a funny accent."
"We're both unfairly victimised."
Although, thought Alex, you do have a funny accent.
Although, thought Drake, you do have absolutely no class.
Nwabudike wasn't about to let the subject drop. "Come on, how did you learn to dance like that? More to the point, why?"
Alex skipped lightly from foot to foot. Although she and Drake had just churned up the dance floor, she was full of energy; she felt more energised now than she had all day. She wanted to get right back out there, join in the tango that was starting up, but Drake was sitting down, and none of the others looked keen. Kana might have been, but dancing with an invisible partner wasn't something she indulged in when there were witnesses, and she was sober.
So she answered Nwabudike's question. "Shuttling cargo from one side of the Federation to the other can be the most boring thing imaginable. You've got to do things to keep yourself occupied. I tried writing a novel once, but…well…"
"You cannot spell," pointed out Sarn.
"Yeah, that was the biggest problem. Also, I couldn't work out how the middle of the story should go. I had the beginning and the end, but what happened in between…God might have known, but I didn't. So I gave up. Taught myself dance instead."
"Ahem? Who taught you dance?"
"This probably isn't the best occasion to reveal my big secret, do you think?"
"You learnt partnered dancing on your own?"
Alex shook her head. "Nah. That would have been ridiculous. I had a partner."
"Who?"
Drake was also intrigued. "I thought you worked alone."
"I've always had a vivid imagination."
Sarn hitched up a thin black eyebrow. "You danced with an imaginary partner?"
"I called her Kana."
"There, happy now? That's sort of truthful."
"Sort of," the other Nain reluctantly allowed.
Drake and the other captains chuckled, while Sarn raised the other eyebrow. Whether she was being honest or making up an interesting story, it was amusing either way.
"What else did you teach yourself during your shady privateer's life?" Nwabudike enquired.
"Oh, lots of things. I went through a period where I just studied language. Any and every language I could get my hands on. That was interesting. I tried mathematics, but I couldn't make sense of all the squiggles and symbols. I also tried to teach myself some science, but that was hopeless."
"Why so?"
Alex smiled at her favourite Vulcan. "Well, for one thing, I'm not sure what all the different erm…disciplines…is that the right word? Disciplines mean."
"I could endeavour to explain it to you."
"I'd appreciate it. Pop by the Wing tomorrow, say."
"I shall."
Alex noticed her other self watching her. "Why do you want her to visit us?"
"I like her."
"Fair enough."
"You don't?"
Kana shrugged. "I don't exactly dislike her. She's a bit boring. The old Vulcans knew how to have fun, before they embraced all this logic and pacifism crap. They were warriors and bloody tyrants. Those were interesting people. Sarek wasn't a great philosopher, he was the biggest party-pooper in history."
Alex Nain smiled at her other self's comment. Kana had always taken pleasure in the darker aspects of life. If that had ever bothered her, it didn't now. It hadn't for a long time.
The female captain interrupted her ponderings. "I'm Jane Frude. You're Will's friend?"
"Alex Nain." They shook hands. "How do you know the captain?"
"We were at the Academy together."
"They were rivals."
"How can you tell?"
Kana stepped out from behind Captain Frude, wearing her arrogant little 'I know something that you don't' smile. "Listen to her tone of voice when she speaks about Will. Observe the way they watch each other. They might be friends now, but they were adversaries before."
"Sure you're not reading into something that's not there?"
"They hated each other," Nwabudike laughed. "Always trying to out do each other."
"I rest my case."
"No we weren't," both Drake and Frude protested, simultaneously.
Alex sent a smile across to Sarn. The Vulcan was listening to, but perhaps not fully understanding what was being said.
"Rivalry can be healthy," she said. "It encourages growth and betterment."
"It also creates some great stories that can come back and embarrass you years later." Alex rubbed her hands together excitedly, grinning manically. "So, who wants to go first?"