§ § § -- sometime in 2297
The two friends stepped forward, hesitantly at first, then with increasing confidence and anticipation as they perceived themselves moving forward through a vast field of stars. They heard the sounds of their footfalls change from a muted thump on the carpet in the time-travel room to the echoes of soles off a tiled corridor floor. Rounding a bend, they came upon a softly lit passageway with one wall constructed entirely of transparent aluminum, yielding a spectacular stellar view that arrested them both and made them gape.
"Are you sure you two have been in space?" asked an amused voice from behind them, and they both started and turned to behold a grinning lieutenant. Kylie squinted at him and then seemed to recognize him.
"What're you doing here?" she demanded. "I thought you'd been drummed out of the service, after all the trouble you caused on the way to Spirit."
"Fifteen years changes people," the lieutenant said. "And you know, you look exactly like someone I knew from that experiment. An Aussie who got phasered by some renegade Clanimid."
Kylie bit her lip and looked at Lauren, who tipped her head aslant and peered at the lieutenant. "You think so? And who are you, anyway?"
"Lt. Scott Halloran," the man told her. "Don't tell me. Kylie came back from the dead, is that it?"
"Yup," said Lauren, just to see his reaction.
Halloran eyed her, studied Kylie, then shrugged. "Okay, I'll buy it," he said offhandedly. "Weirder things than resurrection have happened in this crazy universe. I mean, geez, it even happened to Captain Spock. Welcome back to the land of the living, Kylie Garrison." He stuck out a hand, and Kylie shook it.
"Thanks, mate," Kylie said cheerfully. "You wouldn't happen to know a good restaurant around here, would you?"
Halloran considered this, but before he could say anything Lauren asked in surprise, "Didn't you have breakfast on the plane?" At Halloran's odd look and Kylie's urgent stare, she hastily added, "I mean, the shuttle?"
"Since when do military shuttles serve breakfast?" Halloran hooted derisively. "You two might be ambassadors, but that doesn't mean you rate breakfast. Listen, go on down the corridor about a hundred meters or so, and you'll come out into the common area. Just wing it from there. They have about ten different restaurants, and you can get food from any planet from Earth to Qo'noS to Andor to Vulcan. There's even a Romulan restaurant. Go figure that!" He grinned. "Gotta blast off, ladies. Good luck with the negotiations." He strode away from them before they could ask him what he meant.
"We didn't think to ask Mr. Roarke who we should see about what our assignment is," Lauren realized. "I guess our only choice is to go off to the food court and at least get something to eat."
"Do we have any money?" Kylie asked.
Lauren frowned, then began to search the pockets of the cape that was part of her twenty-third-century costume. Kylie did the same, and to their mutual relief they came up with small bags containing ID cards, credit chits and even a number of coins that looked nothing like the ones they were used to dealing with. "Okay, we're equipped for this much at least. Let's go see what they've got for exotic cuisine."
"I always did want to try Romulan food," Kylie admitted, strolling alongside Lauren on the way down the corridor. "Suppose we stop in there and see what's on the menu?"
Lauren agreed, and a few minutes later they located the Romulan restaurant and paused in front of the window to peruse the English-language menu posted therein. "Hlai-vnau! The import duty on that must be tremendous!" Kylie marveled.
"I bet the import duty on everything here is tremendous," Lauren said. "If we go in, we might be able to get some help with the menu. I'm not so sure I want to go for game for my first meal of the day."
"There you two are!" someone exclaimed then. A hand landed heavily on each woman's shoulder and they both peered at the person hailing them. "I knew there was going to be a breakdown in communications when that damn shuttle came in late. I'm Jaunalinn Andresso, lieutenant junior grade aboard the Excelsior. Originally from Alpha Centaurus, but so itchy to get off-planet that I went into xenolinguistic studies. That's where I'm posted on board. Ambassadors Garrison and McCormick, then?"
Lauren and Kylie nodded and shook hands with the cheerful young woman. "Just call us Lauren and Kylie," Lauren suggested. "We're going to be formal enough when we get to our destination."
"True. Then call me Jaunalinn…or just Jauna, that's what my friends call me." She started away, then paused and took a good look at their immediate surroundings. "You're kidding. You two were planning to eat here?"
"Just for laughs," Kylie said.
Jauna shook her head. "Romulans don't eat breakfast as we know it," she told them kindly. "They tend to have a lot of fowl and stuff, and it's my understanding they have edible lizards. Not exactly my favorite breakfast fare. If you can wait till we get on board, you can fill up in the mess hall and then I'll show you your quarters."
Lauren and Kylie trailed Jauna as she wove expertly through the throngs of beings in the common area, barely managing to keep up. By the time they were finally boarding the starship, both were breathing a little hard and trying not to let it show. But Jauna grinned at them with understanding. "My mother always told me I'm too hyper," she said, and Kylie and Lauren both laughed. "There's still an hour before the briefing, so you can take your time eating and rest up a little bit. Captain Sulu will be there and so will the members of the landing party. That's when we're all going to find out just what this top-secret mission's really all about." She beckoned at them and led them down a couple of corridors to a turbolift, which took them down a few decks before spilling them out directly across from the open doors of what was clearly the mess.
"Military jargon," Lauren said, shaking her head as they followed Jauna in. "They call this the mess, but as far as I'm concerned it's anything but. I say it's a cafeteria."
"Call it what you want," Kylie said, "so long as we can eat. I'm starving."
Jauna laughed and extended her hand in the direction of the food slots. "Have at it. Be back in an hour or so. Bon appetit." She exited the room, and Lauren and Kylie made their choices, found a table and dug in.
In the midst of their meal, three members of the medical staff entered, two of them arguing loudly over something, the third stoically silent. "I'm telling you, it was loganberry tea!" one snapped. "Tell him, T'Rala, before I have to beat it into him."
"That would be an extreme reaction," said the stoic one calmly, "not to mention highly counterproductive. Perhaps you should begin by ordering a cup of each type and sampling it before you continue this illogical discussion." She moved serenely across the room while her companions stared after her.
Lauren and Kylie grinned at each other, then both turned to watch T'Rala make her choices. As soon as the Vulcan turned back from the food slots, they both stuck their hands in the air and waved madly at her. T'Rala stopped for a moment to look at them more closely, then approached, her black eyes gleaming with curiosity.
"We were not informed that the ambassadors would be you two," she observed, taking a seat at Lauren and Kylie's table. "Welcome aboard."
"Thanks, T'Rala. It sure is good to see you," Kylie said cheerfully.
T'Rala gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I find it particularly gratifying to see you, Ambassador Garrison, since there were several witnesses to your unfortunate demise by phaser…myself included."
Kylie reddened. "Well, uh…the damage wasn't as bad as it looked," she said weakly.
T'Rala stared at her in silence, her face blank but her eyes widening just enough for Kylie and Lauren to notice. "Perhaps there will be time for suitable explanations later," the Vulcan finally said. "Has either of you any knowledge of your assignment?"
"It's as mysterious to us as it is to you," Lauren said. "Jaunalinn Andresso brought us here and said it was top-secret, so I guess everyone's in the dark."
T'Rala nodded again. "So it appears." She speared some of the salad in her bowl and took a mouthful.
"Do you have any idea about Arzi and Inriya?" Lauren asked, a little anxious.
T'Rala thought this over, chewing and swallowing before she replied. "Nothing has been heard from them since the experiment fifteen years ago, to my knowledge," she said. "I am aware that, after Ms. Garrison's…indisposition and your departure, they developed a very strong friendship. But I did not remain in touch with them when the experiment ended."
"Oh," Lauren said, her eyebrows trying to meet her hairline. "Indisposition"? She had forgotten that Vulcans were as capable of irony as anyone else! She glanced across at Kylie and saw her friend trying to hide a wide grin behind her hand.
Jauna came back with excellent timing as they were finishing their meal, talking a little with T'Rala here and there. The Vulcan girl they remembered had gone on to become an excellent healer and was now senior nurse under Dr. Christine Chapel, who headed Capt. Sulu's medical staff. When Jauna saw who their tablemate was, she smiled. "Good morning, T'Rala," she said. "Good that you're here—you're to come to the briefing."
T'Rala's eyebrows lifted in her only expression of curiosity, and perhaps a trace of surprise. "Indeed! Might you know who else is to be there?"
Jauna shrugged. "No idea. I can't figure out what's so sensitive about this mission. Let's go find out."
In the briefing room they found Dr. Chapel and Commander Pavel Chekov already in attendance, along with two security sub-heads. "Redshirts," Kylie whispered in Lauren's ear. "A sure sign of impending death." Lauren choked down a giggle, and they all took seats at the table.
Sulu looked around the group. "Let me introduce our ambassadors, Ms. Lauren McCormick and Ms. Kylie Garrison. Ladies, I'm Captain Hikaru Sulu; this is my executive officer, Pavel Chekov. Next to him we have Dr. Christine Chapel, head of the medical staff; Lieutenant Commander T'Rala, senior nurse; Lt. j.g. Jaunalinn Andresso of Linguistics next to you, Ms. McCormick. Beside Ms. Garrison we have Security Chiefs Tirio Omiosiro and Juan Ernesto de Hermosa y Rivera. Welcome aboard." His staff echoed him with smiles, except in T'Rala's case. Kylie and Lauren, both intimately familiar with all the television series, immediately recognized Tirio Omiosiro as a native Catullan.
"We appreciate your welcome," Lauren said. "I hate to sound blunt and abrupt, but I've been given to understand that the situation's urgent, so maybe we should get to the business at hand, Captain."
"Right." Sulu cleared his throat and surveyed the group. "You're all going to be needed in some capacity on this mission. We're heading to the Clanim system." Kylie and Lauren sat up and looked at each other in disbelief, then at T'Rala, who merely raised one eyebrow just a fraction. Sulu noticed. "You're familiar with it?"
"We once knew someone from there," Kylie said. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain."
"Not at all. In fact, that could be useful," Sulu said. "The government on the ruling world, Clanim I, was recently overthrown. It was never entirely stable to begin with; but now it essentially doesn't exist at all. What little news we've had from the planet indicates that one person has placed himself, or herself, in the position of Supreme Ruler—someone named Groh'ar'zent'sen." He scowled. "Clanimid names being what they are, and the Clanimid people being who they are, there's no way to determine even whether we're dealing with a male or a female here. It's understood, though, that in the wake of the government's overthrow, Clanim II—once the subservient world—has started demanding basic rights for its population, and is withholding badly needed food from Clanim I. So there's the threat of imminent famine unless something's worked out quickly and trade is resumed.
"Then there's the matter of a strange disease that's broken out in a couple of cities, and that's why you're going, Christine and T'Rala. You're the best we have. We need to find out its origins and how to stop it." Sulu took a breath, glanced at a grim-faced Chekov, and finally continued, "Lastly, and maybe most seriously, the Romulans have already found out how vulnerable the system is, so you're going to have to deal with them when we get there. The Clanimids still have a long way to go before they're eligible for Federation membership, but we certainly aren't about to let the Romulans run off with those two planets. For one thing, the Clanim system is deep enough into Federation space that if they cede themselves, the Romulans will have increased their territory by an alarming amount. They'd get a rich new source of food, since Clanim II is the breadbasket in the system and produces nearly every edible consumed on both planets." He studied Lauren and Kylie in turn, and the two friends tried not to squirm. "Since you ladies say you once knew someone from the system, can you add any more information to what we have?"
"Probably not," Lauren said, sighing. "I seem to remember that about fifteen years ago, the Klingons came in looking to take over the system. I take it that attempt wasn't successful."
"The natives wouldn't fight," said de Hermosa. "I was on the ship that was dispatched to handle the problem. The Lesser Clanimids, the ones on the second planet, were too busy trying to stay alive to pay any attention to the Klingon threat; and the ruling class on Clanim I—the Greater Clanimids—were too spoiled and self-indulgent to bother to stand up for themselves. What it boiled down to was, the Klingons gave up out of sheer boredom. They weren't interested in a people who refused to fight."
Quiet laughter ran around the table and heads nodded. "That sounds like Klingons," Kylie agreed. "I guess no one has any clue why the sudden explosion of anarchy on Clanim I, then. The way we heard it, the Greater Clanimids treated the Lessers as their slaves and made sure they could never really raise their standard of living. You either scratched out an existence as a merchant or a farmer on Clanim II, or gave yourself up in servitude to a Greater Clanimid. If the governmental overthrow was a recent thing, then I doubt much progress has been made since the Clanim system last made the news services."
"Maybe the so-called 'Supreme Ruler' was just biding time, waiting for exactly the right moment to strike," Omiosiro said.
"We won't know till we get there," Chapel observed, glancing at Sulu. "If that's everything, Captain, then I suggest we get there post-haste."
"Suggestion taken," Sulu said with a faint grin. "You'll be notified when we've arrived in the Clanim system. Dismissed, all."