Present

Day 3

Noohra

After running fifteen minutes, Aalin leaned against a tree and caught her breath. Her inner voice harshened. How did you lose track of three children? Of all the irresponsible … Adjectives failed. Her breathing slowed. Her search restarted.

After running thirty minutes without carefully choosing a path, her bare feet bled, cut from sharp grasses and bruised from rocks.

After shouting for forty-five minutes her voice grew hoarse from calling out the lost orphan's names.

After searching an hour, Aalin sank to the ground leaning against a tree. She buried her head in her hands, frustrated and feeling very, very alone. Continue or turn back and look in a different direction? She closed her eyes and tried clearing her mind of extraneous thoughts. Chris once told you to trust your instincts. What feels right?

Six Months Ago

Enterprise Orbiting Varia

Aalin finished packing her materials. Tomorrow she began studying the Varian language with an indigenous teacher, a requirement imposed by the Varian government after the previous Federation delegation unknowingly insulted their leader. During the journey here the Captain had shared more detail regarding the vital importance of this treaty and its proposed Federation outpost. If they prevailed, the Federation's presence would stabilize this sector. In turn that stability would ripple outward altering the security equation in this quadrant. Not for the first time it felt like a heavy responsibility.

I only have to learn the language. Chris, oh for heaven's sake this is not the time! Captain Pike carries the true burden. But last time the translator's error derailed the talks … The door chime interrupted her thoughts. "Come."

As if the thoughts conjured the man, Chris entered her quarters just far enough for the doors to close. "Do you ever check who is knocking before allowing them inside?" he asked with exasperation.

"Are you insinuating I should be wary of Starship Captains?" she countered with a faint smile.

"That …" he sputtered, "that does not at all answer my question."

"Hmmm. No, it does not. The implication is I feel safe among your crew."

"Oh, well, okay. Promise me you are careful when not on board," Chris requested.

His protective streak is endearing, Aalin thought.

Without preamble, he continued, "I am considering delaying your tutoring sessions until additional concessions are granted. The current arrangement is unacceptable; I agreed with reluctance and my concerns are not assuaged."

Aalin gestured to a chair and sat on the sofa. "I return to Enterprise at night, which was a concession."

Chris harumphed. "A minor one. The military runs the Varian government. Civilians serve the military rather than the opposite. I'd grant you a temporary commission, but, well, you know their mores and attitudes towards females. You should have a member of security with you. Which is standard procedure for diplomatic staff on nonmember planets. And especially relevant in this situation as there is no other Federation presence on the surface."

"The Varian demanded translation via an interpreter rather than computer. They offered this linguistic training. Given their financial needs and the monies the Federation will allocate once an agreement is reached, it seems counter intuitive to disrupt this training or detain me."

"The Varians are angling to be the dominant power in this sector and are unpredictable, often indulging in whims against their self-interest. They successfully pinned the failure of our first set of negotiations on the Federation, now they're emboldened and believe they can dictate terms. I question whether we truly insulted General Ablick through a mistranslation, perhaps that was a fiction created to derail the original talks and gain leverage. The situation is a powder keg and fraught with complexity. They've proven untrustworthy. Don't underestimate them."

"I won't." She tilted her head, a habit when thinking Chris had noted. "Try it for a day? If things go sideways, you'll have cause for altering the terms."

Yes, but you will be caught in the middle. He held her gaze for several minutes before deciding. "Very well." Chris pulled a communicator and Starfleet badge out of a pocket and laid both on the table. "If anything … anything," he emphasized, "makes you uncomfortable, signal the ship." His tone of voice had a stern edge, "Don't hesitate to ask for an immediate beam out. Wear the badge; it will serve as a visual reminder you are a Federation citizen." He paused. His blue eyes flashed with steel. "If things go, as you said, sideways, always remember I take care of my own."

ooooo

The next morning Aalin was surprised to find Pike and his security chief in the transporter room. "Captain."

"Ms. Matthews. Do you have all you require?" Chris was pleased to see the Starfleet badge pinned to her cream turtleneck and nodded his thanks.

She retrieved the communicator from her shoulder bag and held it up.

The security chief reached out his hand. "If I may?" She gave him the communicator. Rotating it, he pointed to a small, barely discernible button on the side. "If events prevent you from calling the ship, press this button. It will trigger an immediate response. And keep the communicator in your pocket, not a bag which can be easily and quickly jerked away."

"I understand. Thank you."

Pike nodded to the transporter operator. Once rematerialization was complete and acknowledged he ordered, "Maintain a constant transporter lock on Ms. Matthews. Isak, keep a security team on standby."

ooooo

Chris sat in the mess hall on deck three drumming the fingers of one hand against the table. His thoughts drifted into unacceptable worst-case scenarios. No, that is a waste of time and energy. There is no indication of a problem.

It feels wrong without her on board. When did her presence, for me, come to permeate the ship? He smiled. She sees with fresh eyes. And through her I am seeing Enterprise, her crew, and the wonders we explore as if for the first time. It's a heady jolt out of the familiar and routine.

His thoughts drifted to yesterday's final approach to Varia. When the navigator signaled in range, interrupting last minute mission preparations with Aalin, he ordered all stop and said, "Come to the bridge with me. If you want to that is."

Her response was a brilliant smile; the one he craved.

Aalin's eagerness quickly gave way to shyness when the doors opened. Chris strode into the room and down the two steps stopping behind the helm without noticing she still lingered in the doorway, hesitant, like a child caught sneaking into a forbidden place. When multiple pairs of eyes looked in her direction, Aalin shrank further back.

Chris gestured at her and then said, "Status?"

"Holding station half a parsec from Varia, as instructed."

"Signal central control and request clearance," Pike replied. He glanced over his shoulder. Aalin was now standing on the upper deck, slowing turning in a circle, eyes scanning every detail of the ships' nerve center. Catching Chris' attention she mouthed, "Wow."

He almost chuckled from delight.

"Orbit and approach vector assigned sir."

"Take us in via the scenic route, one-sixteenth impulse, camera forward."

Now standing by the command chair, Aalin's eyes never wavered from the large forward viewscreen as the ship passed this system's sun, the tiny asteroid belt orbiting it, and five planets, each with their own moons and unique characteristics, before gliding into orbit around Varia. The other officers noted the Captain watching his guest throughout the approach.

Chris' thoughts jerked to the present. The clock read 23:05. He punched the nearby intercom. "Well?"

"I was about to call you sir, as ordered. Ms. Matthews has returned to the ship," the junior comms officer, a recent addition to the crew, replied. His expression turned puzzled as his commander apologized for the impatience and prematurely jumping the fence. A native of the Oceania Proxima's underwater cities he looked to the officer on watch for an explanation.

Trina Mann replied with a grin, "It's a horse metaphor, you'll get use to them."

When Aalin entered the mess hall minutes later, Chris jumped to his feet and held out a chair. Concern spilled out as annoyance. "You're late, very late," he said in a clipped tone.

"Sixteen hours is a normal work or school day on Varia. Actually it's viewed as a light day. They believed that was appropriate for my first tutoring session rather than a reflection of the Federation's lazy work ethic," Aalin replied. "And since there is no dark cycle on this side of the planet, I lost track of time. With endless daylight it is little wonder they rarely sleep."

Chris, now sensitive to the nuances in her tone and body language, heard the weariness in her voice. "I'll speak with General Ablick tomorrow and set boundaries."

Without thinking, she caught his hand in hers. He didn't let go. "Not yet. I'm fine and can manage this schedule for a couple of weeks, more if needed. Don't expend political capital on this, on something trivial."

"Have you eaten?" he asked deflecting into practical matters his need to question her for information about the day.

She tilted her head as if trying to remember. Then her expression turned sheepish. "Not since leaving the ship. It was a packed day."

Returning from the replicator he placed a bowl of fruit in front of her. "Will you eat yogurt?"

"Not willingly, not without it being an order, and even then it is unlikely. However, a cupcake seems warranted." She shot him a sideways glance and pronounced, "I earned it."

Chris retrieved two from the replicator. "Satisfied?"

Nodding happily Aalin started with the cupcakes. Chris rolled his eyes. She said, "I live by a simple motto, always eat dessert first."

He held curiosity in check, barely, until she consumed all the food. His eyes and the occasional drumming of fingers communicated impatience.

"It was a typical first day. Major verb conjugation. First, second, third person constructs. Past, present tenses. Simple sentence construction," she said.

Chris frowned. "That seems … small for an experienced linguist. Do you think they are dragging this out to gain an advantage?"

"Hmmm, perhaps. That didn't occur to me until you asked the question. I will keep that in mind tomorrow and push for faster advancement."

"Who was there? How many?"

Aalin pushed back the headache and feeling of irritation hovering for most of the day assuming both were the inevitable consequence of low blood sugar, recognizing Pike needed data as a balm for his concern. "Two instructors and a government minder, a major I think, not sure of their designations but I believe he is mid-rank officer. Oh, and their leader, General Ablick, stopped by for a brief visit. He had a large entourage."

"That is … unexpected."

"Our conversation was formal, a welcome to his planet, his desire for a successful outcome to the talks, assignment of a staff member as a liaison for anything needed." She omitted reporting the General's persistent invasions of her personal space, and how his hand brushed against her breast during the ceremonial greeting.

Chris folded his arms in front of his chest and leaned back against the chair.

Fascinating, she thought remaining quiet until he chose to speak, it's as he is sorting through moves, like an intricate chess game.

That assumption proved accurate. "If he repeats the visit, have me paged immediately," he ordered.

"Of course," she assured.

"Did you learn anything significant or new about their language?"

"Not really, no." She inclined her head. "I picked up new vocabulary, which is to be expected, but that could have been communicated through a dictionary. Otherwise most of our initial research into their language holds true. As do the two core conundrums."

"Which are?

"Their language is mainly oral. There are scant written records or written literature. That is unusual for a species with their level of technological advancement. And their vocabulary is limited. If you stack it against a culture at a similar stage, the Varian lexicon contains only one-third the number of expected words. Few of those are descriptors, are adjective or adverbs. They appear to have no means of indicating degrees of intensity." Noticing Chris' perplexed expression she explained, "I can find no equivalent words for very, many, few, or little." She stifled a yawn.

Chris noticed. "One last question. Assimilation is for written reports. First impressions can be key and are often lost or inadvertently amended with further consideration. What was your most important takeaway or the pressing question that was not answered?"

Aalin fidgeted and looked away. "You'll think it sounds silly."

"Try me."

"It … their language … or rather when the Varian language is spoken … it's like … something is missing … it sounds … wrong." She shook her head. "I don't know how to describe it."

Chris sat up and leaned forward. "You've said that before, at the first briefing months ago, on Earth. I didn't pay attention then. I should have. I'm paying attention now. I trust your instincts and you should as well."