I Have To Protect Her
Despite believing the action futile, Chris waited in the mess hall at their usual time each evening since breaking things off with Aalin. Did you truly think she'd show up the next day as if nothing changed, he asked then answered himself, I'm not too proud to admit I hoped she would, even if that wish is self-centered and unfair.
Their commander sitting alone in the empty room did not go unnoticed by the crew.
ooooo
On the fourth, fifth, and sixth mornings since Chris asked to step back from their romance, since explaining he wanted to be friends instead of lovers, Aalin resolutely planned to visit the deck three mess hall at the usual hour in case he stopped by for their daily chat. Each of those evenings her insecurities frantically waved their hands begging to be called on and once heard held her back.
ooooo
Once Enterprise began her journey around the unusual asteroid belt, the crew stood down from the precautionary yellow alert of the past ten days and shipboard routines fell back into their normal rhythms. With the onset of a headache which hinted at worsening, Chris retreated to his ready room having decided his presence on the bridge was superfluous, a conclusion added by a periodic raised eyebrow from his first officer.
By the end of the hour his temples throbbed viciously, spots were dancing before both eyes, and searing pain arced behind his right eye and ear. Soon after the migraine aura manifested with ringing in the affected ear and zigzags of colored light in his field of vision. Though now rare, these stress induced migraines had begun after returning from Talos.
"Computer, dim lights, lowest setting."
His first thought was to seek out Aalin; her presence soothed. Instead Chris rummaged through the cabinet where she'd stashed ginger tea bags while trying to remember if she used lavender or peppermint scented oil. There he found an unfamiliar box and removed it, a faint hint of the lily of the valley perfume she favored wafted out when its lid was removed. Inside, along with the tea, were vials of lavender oil, small packets of almonds, and a mini disc. His mood notched up as fingertips traced the outlines of each item.
Plopping a tea bag into a mug of boiling water from the replicator, Chris settled on the sofa in the informal part of the office. Uncapping one of the vials, he inhaled its balming scent which triggered a memory. Head resting against the back of the sofa, eyes closed, he nestled into the remembrance. It was during the Varian mission, the day Aalin was prepping him for the first meeting with the planet's leader General Ablick. For hours she coached him through mastering the ritual greeting.
"No, that's not quite right. With each word, move your voice up one half-step on a music scale," Aalin corrected and then demonstrated for what felt like, to Chris, the hundredth time. "And the r's are rounder, less harsh, more rolling." She then encouraged, "You're getting closer each time."
"And why can't you do this part?" he asked in a weary vexed tone of voice.
"Because I'm just the interpreter. It would be an insult to the Varian delegation and especially their leader."
Chris snorted and waved a hand in annoyance. "I'm beginning to believe everything offends our temperamental host." He tried again. "Any better?"
Aalin offered a sympathetic smile. "Not really, no." Her head tilted to the side as she considered. "Let's approach this differently. Forget the words. Other than elongating the r's your pronunciation is perfect. The pitch ascension required is like moving up a scale. Here's one used when a small child starts voice lessons … oh sorry … no comparison was intended."
He unconsciously rubbed a temple. "The simpler the better. Computer dim lights one third."
"OK. I'll demonstrate." Aalin then sang, "Do Re Me Fa Sol La Ti."
"I've gone off the idea of a Federation base on the Varian moon," Chris remarked.
"Don't be shy, no one can hear you but me."
Rolling his eyes he repeated, "Do. Re. Me. Fa."
"No, don't punch it out. Make the flow continuous. And a bit louder please."
"Do, Re, Me …" was the still whispered reply.
"Better. More flow. More volume," Aalin said.
"Computer dim lights another third." His left thumb and middle finger each rubbed the outer corner of an eye. "Do Re … I'm complete off-key, aren't I?"
"That isn't important as long as the phrase is all in the same key. The Varians will notice otherwise and …"
"Be insulted," Chris finished. "A break please."
"Sure." Aalin settled into an opposite chair. Noting his pinched expression and ashen pallor, combining this observation with the twice dimmed lighting she asked in a quiet voice, "Are you prone to migraines?"
"Ummm … not typically … not much anymore … they're rare …"
"OK, let's try a different question. Do you have a headache right now? A bad one?"
He nodded. Even that slight movement sent arcs of pain around and across the top and back of his head.
"Shall I call Dr. Boyce?"
"No!" Chris nearly shouted which he immediately regretted. He buried his pounding, aching head in his hands. Looking back up at Aalin he then added, "It will get better on its own. And I'm still capable of responding if needed on the bridge."
"Very well. I'll go …" She stood.
"Don't," he pleaded reaching out a hand. "Please stay. We'll knock off the prep, but … I'd like the company."
After briefly clasping his hand, Aalin resumed her seat. "I know a few home remedies which may help. Do you want to give any a try?"
"I'd be grateful for even a tiny bit of relief."
"Are you sight, sound, or scent sensitive?" she asked.
"Sight and sound."
"Queasy?"
He nodded. "A bit."
Aalin pitched her voice in a soft, almost monotone alto and walked to the other side of the room. "I don't know if efficacy is altered by the replication process." She issued a string of instructions and returned with a tray. "Computer dim lights, lowest setting." Handing him a mug she said, "Sip this, it's ginger tea. It will help settle any nausea."
Lavender scent floated in the air when she uncapped a vial. "May I?" With Chris' permission she gently rubbed a few drops on his temples. "Close your eyes and rest your head against the sofa."
Chris followed her suggestion then inhaled and exhaled slowly. It was nice having another take charge.
Now sitting beside him, Aalin began humming, the tune a simple melody which unexpectedly soothed. Using three fingers she drew small light circles around his temples. "Does that hurt or help?"
He sighed. "Helps, definitely helps."
"Good." She offered a container of almonds. "When you can nibble on these, the magnesium in them helps. Now lean your head forward." With a thumb and index finger on either side of the spine at the base of his skull she resumed drawing circles. "Slowly tilt your head to side to side." She resumed humming then switched to softly singing.
They repeated the sequence several times over the next two hours. By then Chris was on the cusp of falling asleep.
"Better?" she whispered.
Drowsy and relaxed, Chris managed a nod and a faint contented smile.
Chris brewed loaded the disc into the computer. "Play," he instructed. The melody was soothing but he longed for Aalin's voice.
ooooo
That night Chris woke in a cold sweat, bed covers chaotically disheveled, the edge of a sheet twisted in his fist. The nightmare was amorphous, the kind when waking all the painful emotions remain with little memory of the tangible. And knowing if he closed his eyes now his mind's image of Aalin would morph into Vina on Talos, Chris lost any desire for trying to recapture sleep.
It was 2:00am. Pacing the small space didn't alleviate his constricted throat nor the pressure in his chest confining breathing.
Nightmares had been common for him in the immediate aftermath of Enterprise's visit to Talos IV. Visit? He snorted at the thought. Though those dreams had been tangible, he had remembered and felt every visual, physical, and emotional detail, every illusion the Talosians used to cruelly trick him, every brutal attempt to coax him into … protectiveness, affection, caring.
We were lured there with a false distress call. Captured. Imprisoned. Forced to …
Nope, still not ready to complete that sentence.
I've got to get out of this cage, he thought quickly donning a uniform and retreating to his ready room. Quarters were the one place on the ship where he didn't feel Aalin's presence. Other areas were filled with memories of moments they'd shared, and right now he wanted to be close to her.
The only time she's been in my quarters was ten days ago when … when …
The intimacy of that moment beckoned. And the mere thought of her in his arms kindled desire, both emotional and physical. And the latter response fueled his assumptions as to the true origin of his feelings. It's only biology, the trigger impetus isn't real, he vocalized an often-repeated mantra from those days on Talos and the weeks in its aftermath.
Ignoring the waiting queues of requests and reports, he spent the next three hours staring out the viewport, watching the dancing, colored spirals and arches spun by the warp bubble encasing the ship as it sped around the enormous asteroid belt. When Phil entered unannounced for his usual morning chat, Chris was relieved to see the doctor.
"Mia said you weren't in your quarters this morning when she dropped off the overnights," Phil said as he offered a thermos of coffee and claimed a seat.
After accepting the coffee, Chris shot back in an aggravated tone using the opportunity to ease his frustration, "My yeoman reports my every move to you?"
"No. I happened to pass her in the corridor. But as you had not been called to the bridge or another part of the ship, and as you, who never leaves quarters unkempt unless there is a crisis, had not made the bed, she was concerned."
Chris sighed. At times life within a small, close-knit group felt oppressive. During these times he missed the open spaces of the desert and the freedom of being the only being for miles and miles. He reminded himself, Let it go. Mia is still putting Talos behind her and she still needs your help with that. The Talosians put her in an impossible and embarrassing situation.
Phil queried, "Rough night?"
"A bit. And I don't want to dwell on the subject," Chris replied in the firm tone with which no one argued.
"Fair enough. So, we have a mind-numbingly boring two weeks ahead while skirting this asteroid belt?"
The Captain nodded. "If all goes as planned, yes."
"With the flurry of activity behind us, once again you are the favored topic on the ship's grapevine."
Chris rubbed his tired aching eyes. Barely audible he mumbled, "Yet another good reason to pull back." Louder he responded, "You know the drill, the rumors will burn themselves out in a couple of days. Just leave it alone."
"OK."
They lapsed into silence which stretched and stretched. Chris turned back to the viewport. Phil quietly slipped out, leaving the Captain alone with his thoughts. Soon thereafter Isak entered and rounded the desk.
"You look like hell," the security chief remarked in greeting.
"Yeah," Chris offered with a humorous chuckle. "Anything I need to know or worry about?"
"Nothing to report." He and Chris had served together in various capacities for more than ten years. Their friendship also spanned that decade. Long ago they'd memorized each other's tells. "Still think you did the right thing?"
"Yes. I love … Aalin is important to me. Which is precisely why I have to protect her from the illusions and any coercion."
Isak would have sworn Chris whispered Talosians instead of illusions.
ooooo
Later the same day, Aalin's self-defense instructor, John, messaged, 'The chief scheduled your certification. Tomorrow. 9:30am. Deck three gym.' Last minute practice for this important test consumed Aalin's evening and, once again, she neglected seeking out Chris in the mess hall at their usual time. When there were no moves left to practice and her body was too tired to repeat the others, the now ever-present attractiveness and desirability insecurities bouncing around her thoughts were joined by their cousins – clumsy, in over your head, and not good enough – turning the night into a near eternity of restless sleep.
Anxious and edgy the next morning, she couldn't face a crowded mess hall nor breakfast and chose instead to slip into the gym early. With her mind racing about the upcoming test and her eyes focused down Aalin literally ran into Chris as he was exiting, throwing her off-balance and threatening a tumble onto the floor. He reached out and caught her in his arms. Neither pulled away from the embrace.
It was the longest thirty seconds of her life.
For both the silence after he steadied her and removed his arms was deafening; the awkwardness felt like a pit of inescapable quicksand. Aalin quickly mumbled an apology and darted into the gym. Chris intended on following her; this was waylaid by a summons over the public address system. He debated that intent on the walk to engineering, Are you reaching out to alleviate her hurt or balm your conscience? A little of both, he admitted. And because I miss her. Which is unacceptably selfish Christopher, let her reengage the friendship when she's ready … or if. He cringed at that possibility. And find out when her self-defense certification is scheduled. She'll be unsure and need support. He admonished, With any other member of my crew, I'd already know the date and time and have delivered a pep talk. This, this is the true reality of personal relationships with those who serve under you, overlooking their needs, not making time for small courtesies offered all crewmembers, letting personal tensions override the same care the others on board receive. Yes, having to make a decision resulting in unspeakable loss, one which harms her is a ghost haunting my thoughts from time to time, but that's an unlikely, extraordinary possibility and it's too easy to go too far in the other direction.
Once inside the empty gym, Aalin sank into one of the side benches. Those seconds in Chris' arms were simultaneously blissful and wretched. Hope and the rightness of being with him, her instinctive and unfiltered first reactions, were quickly drowned by misery.
She hastily wiped her eyes when John and another entered the gym twenty minutes later. He nodded in greeting before resuming an ongoing discussion with his colleague Nhan. Neither were concerned by ship's interpreter sitting quietly in the corner rather than joining their conversation. Though something about her posture nagged at John. She stared at the floor, her hands grasped the edge of the bench so tightly their knuckles were white and quivering, her shoulders slumped; all he chalked up to nervousness. When Isak entered the room, Aalin joined them near the mat yet still loitered away from the half-circled trio.
"Ready?" Isak asked.
Not trusting the steadiness of her voice, Aalin nodded, stepped onto the mat, and took the beginning position.
"Your objective is flipping and then pinning me for 20 seconds," Isak reminded after joining her on the mat.
Aalin looked up at the security chief. Doubts tiptoed into her thoughts. I'm five-feet-five, he's six-foot-six …
"In five …" Isak began the countdown.
I can't do this.
"Three."
Focus! Aalin sternly reminded.
"Two."
Doubt reignited sadness and she couldn't pull her thoughts back from Chris and something precious slipping away. Something begging to be steadfastly held onto and cherished.
"One." Using his leg, Isak knocked Aalin off her feet.
The next fifteen seconds were a blur. Instinct overtook training and Aalin immediately reached an arm down to break her fall. This bracing snapped her wrist. She cried out in pain.
Realizing she wasn't rolling through the fall back onto her feet, Isak reached down to help Aalin stand. At the same time she swung her undamaged arm up as a protective shield and her fist connected with his jaw. She executed a clumsy sweep-push managing knocking Isak's knee out from under him. Caught between trying to steady her and the impending fall, Isak didn't let go of Aalin in time. Inertia pulled him towards the ground pushing her along as well. She fell backwards onto the bare floor with a loud thud.
Attempting to avoid landing on Aalin, Isak twisted his body midair. But time was limited, and gravity won. Instead the bulk of his weight crashed into her side and his elbow punched her diaphragm.
Isak gingerly rolled off and away from the gasping woman barking out orders as he rose to his feet. "Nhan get medical down here." He stabbed a finger at Aalin. "Don't move." Isak then turned his attention to John and questioned, "You said she was ready. What just happened?"
Aalin tried to push up onto her elbows. She forced out words between gulping for air, "Not … his …"
Isak reminded in a less then pleased tone of voice, "I said don't move. Not until Medical clears you."
"fault … mine …" she continued.
"Don't talk either," Isak ordered. "Yes, he is responsible. Just as much as you. And I'll deal with you later."
Aalin rested her head on the floor. This is mortifying. Could things get any worse?
At that moment, the ship's chief medical officer hurried into the room with Christine Chapel following closely on his heels. He knelt by Aalin scanner already whirling.
A minute after that, the ship's Captain stormed through the doors demanding, "What happened?"
Turns out they can, Aalin thought with a wince.