Six Months Ago

Enterprise En Route to Varia

Chris sat at his and Aalin's usual table in the mess hall on deck 3, reading from a PADD in his hand. Fifteen minutes later he tossed the e-reader on the table, weary of wading through the mind-numbingly routine status report. Enterprise was ready. He dictated a message to Number One giving final clearance for crossing from well-traveled Federation space into the unpredictable and precarious sector leading to Varia. The message ended with – commence standing yellow alert at 4:00am.

These were likely his final leisurely hours before reaching Varia in a week. Starting tomorrow his time would be crowded and taxed. Knowing that he came here at 11:00pm and waited, as he had the past two nights. Both times he left disappointed.

At 11:30 he decided the wait was futile and rose to leave. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aalin enter; her expression was unsure, and she stood hesitant and still in the open doorway like a deer poised to flee. Chris' reassuring smile coaxed her into the room enough for the doors to close. He slid a chair out from the table. A few seconds later she joined him and said in a soft voice, "I hoped you would be here."

"Tea?"

Aalin shook her head and sat quietly while Chris talked of random things, past missions, home, and his ship and crew. He sensed she wanted conversation needing no replies. As he spoke her shoulders relaxed and she glanced towards the replicator.

"Tea?"

"Yes, please."

She sipped from her mug. He waited patiently.

"Any news?" she finally asked.

"The hostages are now at Starbase 7. The two who were seriously injured are on their way to Vulcan for treatment, their prognosis is good. It ended … as well as it could."

"Thank you for arranging the call with my friend. I realize that's not easy this far out. It helped. Cecelia has a unique and forthright way of …" Aalin paused, and Chris caught the faint outline of a smile, "of putting things in perspective. Heaven help us if she is recruited for a diplomatic post."

"And what was her advice?"

"Put on my big girl … ah … to get on with things. And she's right."

Chris inclined his head slightly. "Don't underestimate the aftereffects of an experience like this. What you are feeling, the guilt, the helplessness, the anger, the futility, all of it is normal."

Aalin nodded. "How was your day?"

He smiled at those magic words. "Good. Stellar cartography believes they found an uncharted rogue planet in the Angandar system. If luck favors us, we'll have time to investigate it after finishing at Varia …"

Their conversation continued in hushed tones and neither noticed Spock and Louvier enter the room and take a table on its opposite side.

"The Captain is most attentive to our guest," Spock remarked.

"Indeed he is," Louvier answered with a thoughtful expression.

"I do not recall Captain Pike personally ministering to the first interpreter, Nicholas. Nor to Ambassador Helena Rogers before that. This is curious. Ms. Matthews must excel in her field," Spock mused.

Louvier glanced at Spock. "You need to get out more."

The Vulcan's eyebrow raised. "Get out more? Am I not, at this very moment as we converse, out?" Spock paused. "Of my quarters which I assume is your reference point? Every day I get out and perform my duties on the bridge and in various science labs."

Shaking his head, Louvier explained, "Get out more is an idiom meaning you are overly focused on one aspect of your life and missing important experiences. I was suggesting you let your hair down …"

"But it is not up."

"Ignore that, I was suggesting you spend more time in … personal activities. Such as enjoying the pleasures of a woman's company. Or a man's if that is your preference."

"I am enjoying your company right now. However, if you believe I must include a woman in our discussion to increase, as you inferred, my pleasure, we should join the Captain and Ms. Matthews. It is polite."

The Vulcan was half-way out of his chair when Louvier placed a hand on his arm and said firmly, "Not now."

"Please elucidate."

"I doubt they are talking about work or the upcoming mission. And I am certain they don't want a third and fourth wheel."

"That does not adequately answer my question," Spock pointed out with a slight frown.

Louvier watched the pair. The man who misses nothing doesn't realize we are in the room. And his eyes follow her every movement. That settles it then, he thinks before responding,"Solve the equation Spock, add the terms together."

While part of his brain considered the puzzle, Spock pursued a different inquiry. "Commander, are you not in the beginning measures of a mating dance with Ms. Matthews? … You find my question humorous. Why?"

"I've heard a great number of euphemisms for making love, but that is … original … and clever."

"I endeavor to be accurate, and I have observed many humans are uncomfortable speaking in frank terms about sex. Which is illogical."

"Most Vulcans clam up when the subject is introduced," Louvier reminded.

"That is different. We do not discuss our own intimate activities, we do not date, we do not pursue casual sex," Spock countered. "Lovers and life partners are chosen by our parents or close friends with careful consideration and using logic rather than the whim of hormones."

"I see. That is very … limiting."

"My question remains unanswered," Spock prodded.

"Yes, I … desire to know Aalin intimately, but I will gracefully exit the field."

"Why?"

"In deference to our commander," Louvier answered.

ooooo

Two Months Ago

Noohra

Starfleet Mobile Surgical Hospital in the Har Mountains

Noticing a light in the outpatient tent despite the late hour, Spock diverted to investigate. Entering, he raised an eyebrow. Every table was covered with pieces of paper, a word or phrase written on each. Small notes adhered to the tent poles, the diagnostic viewscreens; they covered any and every surface. At a far table, a woman, her long hair pinned up and secured with a writing stylus, was rearranging the slips of paper. She paused, drank from a mug, grimaced, and resumed matching the notes.

"Lieutenant Matthews. This is your designated rest period. Please cease and return to this effort in the morning."

"What?" she asked absentmindedly, "Oh, I truly despise coffee, but it's useful for staying alert."

"I was not inquiring about your beverage. Rather, I was suggesting you take a break," Spock corrected.

"No. I can't. I have to find the pattern."

"Working to the brink of exhaustion will not aid your quest. I prefer not to invoke my authority."

Aalin sighed. "Very well. I'll clean this up."

"I will assist."

"Thank you. Please maintain the horizontal order while gathering the slips," she instructed.

As they worked Spock asked, "What is the purpose of this arrangement?"

"I'm trying to match words or phrases spoken by the patients to their injuries."

Spock nodded in agreement and commended, "A logical approach."

"Perhaps, but I have no idea if they were talking about their injuries or something unrelated. It may simply be a giant rat hole." Noticing his baffled expression she added, "A great deal of wasted time and effort."

"Human idioms are rarely descriptive or intuitive. What does a rat have to do with futility?"

Aalin shrugged, "I have no explanation for that."

Spock judged Captain Pike to be exceptional commander. An astute leader who balanced a careful and effective mix of authority, care, and empathy. At times the authority felt more like camaraderie, at times it was firm and occasionally even stern. At times the blend tilted in favor of care, at times in favor of empathy. Invariably, in the Vulcan's estimation, Pike observed, assessed, and gave precisely what the situation and crewman required. Spock carefully studied his commander's methods so to emulated them. This analysis produced another conclusion as well. Pike's approach drew out the best in those around him. Fostering ideas, solutions, and talents sometimes overlooked or disbelieved by the bearer and then continually cultivating those with encouragement and reinforcement. The young officer found Christopher Pike to be a wise man. Occasionally Spock pondered who gave Pike his needed care and empathy.

Observation and assessment clearly highlighted the frustration and doubt radiating from the newest member of Enterprise's crew. Spock straightened and with hands clasped behind his back, which is the Vulcan equivalent of a deep preparatory breath, he said, "Lieutenant, your commitment is laudable. And your expectations are set too high. Time is required for piecing together a language as well as a rested body and clear mind. Matt reports even without formal training you are an adequate medic. Your work here is useful."

Aalin paused. Her brow creased slightly, and her eyes briefly narrowed as if she was translating his words. She took a breath, started to speak, then stopped.

Spock flushed pale green. His intention was earnest, yet he doubted the words chosen were appropriate. He thought, For Captain Pike this would be effortless. I have much to learn.

"Thank you. That is kind. Another medic is useful … but you need a translator. That is my assignment. And every day I cannot understand their language is another day a patient might receive the wrong treatment," her voice became rough, "… and die."

Spock reminded himself Captain Pike never avoided truth even when it was difficult. "Yes." Silence filled the tent. "I believe in this moment our commander would say, you never know what combination of events and skills will combine into a breakthrough; be open, which often requires space and time away from the problem."

"You're a thoughtful and generous leader Spock. Thank you."

His response was lost in the loud public announcement, "Casualties incoming. All to their duty stations."

ooooo

It was hours before the steady stream of patients slowed. Then villagers caught in the battle's crossfire began arriving. Matt approached a cart drawn by an animal resembling a horse. In it a small child laid on a bed of hay. Her distressed mother hovered nearby. Her father stood protectively between Matt and his family.

"See how the child is clutching her side? My instincts tell me she is bleeding internally, however opening up a terrified child has its own risks," Matt said with a frustrated snort and head shake.

Aalin smiled at the little girl and her parents while Matt questioned them via the universal translator. Their eyes moved from his lips to the communicator attached to his side and then back to his lips. The delay between hearing his voice speak in an unknown language and the computerized voice's inaccurate translation of Matt's words increased their agitation. Between sobs the child pleaded, "Amea. Bevakashaum, Amea."

Matt looked to Aalin. She shook her head.

The young girl's father began shifting back and forth on his feet, telegraphing growing aggression. The child sat up and screamed, "Adda. Bevakashaum, Adda. Reduma yadae."

"Okay, no more time," Matt motioned to one of the nurses, "Prep her for surgery."

"Wait!" Aalin exclaimed while thinking, it's right there, the clue is just beyond my reach, I heard that word earlier today … yad … yad … yadum … is it possible? She held up her hand. "Yadae?"

The father nodded.

Aalin pointed to Matt's hand. "Yadum?"

The universal translator reported the father's affirmation.

Aalin pointed to the mother. "Amea?"

The child nodded.

"I think her hand is broken. If I am correct, she said it is numb," Aalin told Matt. When Enterprise's chief nurse tried to approach the child, her father stepped closer barring access. Aalin quickly spoke in a language Matt didn't understand. The universal translator rendered it as, "He knows how to help her."

The child's father and mother traded glances, holding a silent conversation in the space of a few seconds. She nodded. He stepped out of Matt's path.

Matt gently examined the small patient and ordered, "Compression fracture. Wake the plastic surgeon."

After the family was guided to the pre-op tent and waiting area, Aalin turned to Matt. "A few days ago, my first day here, in the shuttle, one of the soldiers said yeshad liea ke've roshanum. Do you remember?"

"No. How can you …"

"Any patients with head injuries on that shuttle?"

Matt scrolled through his PADD. "Yes … one … a severe concussion."

Aalin muttered, "Yesh li ke've rosh. Is it possible?"

"I'm not following you."

"In modern Hebrew, yesh li ke've rosh roughly translates I have a headache." She ran towards the communications tent. "I have to call Enterprise."

ooooo

It was late ship's time. Nearly 11:00pm. And unusually Captain Pike was sitting the conn for this watch despite having spent a tense day managing the cease-fire negotiations between the leaders of Noohra and Aschask Prime. Despite additional talks scheduled for early tomorrow morning.

"Sir," the junior operations officer called out. "The language databases Lieutenant Matthews requested are ready. Shall I dispatch a courier or wait until morning?"

"Lieutenant Matthews? Yes, send the courier … no wait." Pike held out his hand. "I'll take it."

After the busy day, the camp was subdued. Many slept, others gathered in small groups quietly talking. A few greeted their Captain as he walked past. Just outside the camp's perimeter, Aalin sat against a tree, eyes closed, face turned upwards. The illumination of the full moons bathed her in an ethereal silvery light.

Chris paused and held his breath reluctant to break the spell. I should tell her is she beautiful to me. Precious things slip from our fingers easily and too quickly. He sighed. But that is inappropriate in this moment; will the right time ever come? He called her name softly.

"Captain?"

"May I join you?"

"Yes."

Chris sat on the ground beside her. "I should scold you for being outside the camp's protective zone."

"I'm the sentry."

"Your eyes were closed," he pointed out.

She inclined her head. "Yes, that could be a problem. My bad. For the record, I'm ten feet from the camp's entrance and like my odds."

"Hmmm." Chris handed over the database. "As you requested. I'm intrigued. What do you need that is not already stored with your universal translator?"

"Ancient Hebrew and Aramaic. I know it sounds inconceivable, but I think the villagers speak a dialect similar to those Earth languages. Because both are native to Earth and no longer used, and since language databases require a great deal of physical storage, neither are part of our communicator's basic configuration."

"How? I mean what was the clue?" he asked.

"Words in their vocabulary that sound like modern Hebrew and have equivalent meanings. But with different gendered suffixes, which is fascinating as masculine, feminine, and neutral word forms are often quite similar across this quadrant … sorry, that's much more than you could possibly be interested in …"

"If it interests you, it interests me."

I can't remember the last time I sat in the moonlight with a handsome man. Aalin started to slip her arm through his and stopped just short. "That's nice of you."

Chris noticed her aborted gesture. Can I interpret that as permission … at least to hold her hand? He shook his head. No. If we … she's a member of my crew now. Anything personal between us cannot be impulsive.

Realizing the moment had passed and regretting it, Aalin continued, "But their usage of what may be archaic words is mixed with the current Noohran planetary language … like the dialects spoken in the Appalachia region of North America's southeastern mountains in the 20th century. They conversed using middle English vocabulary and expressions along with the era's current language. I'll load these databases tonight and test them tomorrow. With a wireless earbud I can repeat the universal translator's rendition almost simultaneously until I'm fluent in the language. But that's enough of linguistics. How was your day?"

Chris relaxed.

"I heard cease-fire negotiations began?"

"Yes. They are off to a rocky start. And I am convinced the Aschaski are hiding something and it's important, critically important. Perhaps even the key to resolving this conflict."

ooooo

Present

Day 3

Enterprise Holding at Station Near Noohra

After Georgiou delivered the news Aalin and the orphans were not following the resistance trail, and Shenzhou's Captain and the others left the ready room, Chris stood staring out of the viewport in the direction of Noohra. The why escaped him, but he found gazing into the vastness of space soothing. It was like a meditation bestowing peace and clarity. It was in these moments he faced his fears, accepted truth, and embraced hope.

I knew survivor's guilt haunted Aalin after the refugee camp was attacked, after we learned the missing teacher and the young Gileseian woman Aalin had tutored died in the fire when the school was torched. Why didn't I consider that before sending her into a war zone filled with victims, many of them children?

Aalin, wherever you are, I am going to find you, and bring you safely home. Home to me.