Present

Aschaski Prime

After Goe terminated his conversation with Enterprise's Captain, the Chief Executive Officer of the West dismissed his staff and the Ambassador. He turned to the being observing from the back of the room and said, "Well?"

"Appeal to Pike's compassion. It's his chief vulnerability. If more direct action is required, my superiors will deal with him." A lengthy pause. "In seven days' time the cease-fire expires. Finish your stealth occupation of Noohra's northern mountains before it does; otherwise our bargain is voided. And find that boy."

ooooo

Six Months Ago

Enterprise Orbiting Varia

Nurse Christine Chapel scrutinized the output from her med scanner then looked up at her patient. "Like before there is nothing remarkable in your readings." She administered a hyprospray. "This should help."

"Thanks. I'm grateful," Aalin said exhaling with relief as the medication rapidly dispersed. Like the past three days on Varia, the fourth ended with a throbbing headache. Her hands fidgeted. "It's probably stress. The past month has been a whirlwind. I'm sure the tension and accompanying headaches will go away as I spend more time on the surface."

"Hmmm … maybe," Chapel replied. "Are you prone to headaches?

"No more than average. My eldest brother suffers from migraines at times."

"OK. As a precaution, I want to get a baseline neurological scan. It'll just take a few minutes. Lie back on the biobed while I get the equipment." As Chapel performed the test she said, "If you develop another headache in the next few days, I'll have to pull in one of the physicians. That's protocol and Dr. Boyce is very strict about treatment practices. Dr. M'Benga is our neurologist for Terrans and Vulcans. OK. All done. Do you want something to help you sleep?"

Aalin sat up and shook her head. "I need to be at 100% while trying to learn this language. A sedative might interfere with that. Truly I'm feeling better now."

"If you change your mind, ping me, I'll bring it to your quarters."

Though the headache had eased, the irritation and anxiety also plaguing her since arriving at Varia remained. Aalin assumed the disquiet stemmed from long workdays and the heavy responsibility she felt to get right her part of this mission. After leaving Sickbay and knowing sleep would be elusive, she headed in the opposite direction of her quarters.

ooooo

Pike checked the time as he entered the office of the ship's chaplain. 10:30pm. As usual, the office door was open. "Francis."

"Captain."

"Do you ever leave the chapel? Or go off duty?"

"Right back at you sir." Francis Finn, a lieutenant commander in his late thirties, was gregarious, unassuming, keenly perceptive, and fascinated by the varied ways beings perceived the divine. He and his staff were experts in all the myriad spiritual traditions represented in Enterprise's crew. They performed or oversaw services, sacraments, meditations, and rituals; as well as studying a civilization's religious practices during first contact and advising the mission team. Often sought out for informal counseling, the ship's chaplain lended a friendly non-biased shoulder to lean on. And to this day, no one was sure what religion Francis practiced in his private moments.

Pike took the offered chair. "Everything ready for tomorrow?"

"Yes. Down to the required incense. The bachelor party is in progress as we speak. And I made sure there is no chocolate. Spock is attending and we don't need a repeat of last year's Valentine's Day bash when he was crooning in the hallways until the wee hours of the morning."

Pike chuckled then reminded, "You taught him those Irish ballads."

Francis expression turned sheepish. "Yes, indeed. It seemed a good idea at the time." He handed a PADD to his commander. "I've noted for you the requested deviations from the standard service. As matchmaker, Dr. Boyce will escort the bride down the aisle. As co-matchmaker, Matt will stand as best man. The service starts at 3:00pm. Wedding breakfast to follow."

"Very well …" Pike paused and tilted his head. "Do you hear music?"

"Um-hum." Francis stood and motioned. "Come with me." They took a seat on one of the back pews in the chapel. A simple melody drifted from a piano tucked into a nook. "Sometimes our guest plays. Always when others aren't here."

"The tune sounds familiar," Pike said in a whisper.

Francis nodded. "Yes sir. Pachelbel's Cannon."

The music continued. Quiet gave way to a louder volume. Slow gave way to a faster tempo. Delicate bell-like notes gave way to harsh ones, highlighting that a piano is a percussion instrument. Simple gave way to complex as the original melody was transposed, reordered, and embellished. To Pike it felt like an emotional journey mixing sorrow and peace, discordant notes coexisting with the harmonious. After the last note dissipated, Aalin rested her head in her hands. Her shoulders trembled while she wept.

Pike pointed to Francis' office, signaling they should leave before she noticed them. He keyed to doors to close.

The Chaplain spoke first. "We've chatted a bit. Not in depth, but that is her way. She's grieving. Which is expected after what happened. She's grieving not just for the losses when the militants overran the refugee camp, but also for the miseries experienced by its inhabitants, especially the children. Did you know Aalin is her middle name?"

Pike's eyes narrowed, he quickly masked a frown, annoyed at himself for missing such a detail while thinking, How could I not have known that? He said, "No."

"Her namesake is St. Caroline. A woman who founded orphanages after the wars of twenty-first century Earth. And here is another random fact. She was educated from age eight at a specialized music academy in United Korea. Curious isn't."

"Go on."

Francis steepled his fingers. "Given what must have been extensive training in the musical arts, why did she end up a linguist?"

ooooo

Six Weeks Ago

Noohra

Starfleet Mobile Surgical Hospital in the Har Mountains

Aalin expected the mess tent to be vacant at this hour. Instead she found Matt sitting in a far corner reading a PADD in his hand. Abruptly he tossed it on the table with a loud thump. Correctly assuming the drink in his mug had gone cold, she gathered two more and sat on the bench across from him.

Matt had the classic dark hair and skin tone of a Betazed native. And was tall by human standards, nearly six-feet-two. Those who mistook his lean wiry frame as an easy target were abruptly disabused of that mistake once experiencing his physical strength and steely will. He was a battlefield medic veteran.

They sipped from the mugs. Matt liked that his new crewmate didn't compel conversation, that she was comfortable with silence, a trait she shared with their Captain. Most silences were awkward; this was not. Relieved of the obligation to fill it, Matt relaxed with the shared companionship.

Fifteen minutes had passed when he said, "You never asked why I chose nursing over certifying as a physician."

She answered immediately. "You are a gifted healer. I assumed you preferred applying your talent and skill in the role which is more intimately bound with the patient during treatment and care. Do you get that question a lot?"

He nodded. "But I sensed you would get it. Most days that question doesn't bother me. But … I have a letter from home. From my father. I'm a … disappointment is a mild descriptor."

Leaning forward slightly, Aalin set her mug on the table and offered Matt her complete attention.

"Are you familiar with how society is structured on Betazed?" he asked then continued after her faint head shake. "I'm an eldest child of the third house, one of the oldest families. We can trace our lineage back to the beginning of our species' written history. Yet the first child is not only responsible for ensuring the continuation of the dynasty. He or she also inherits the parents' occupation. The third house is a family of healers."

"They were unhappy with your decision to join Starfleet?"

"I should amend. The third house is a family of physicians. In a society where doctors are the apex of healing. In a society where few, other than the daughters of the fifth house, break with convention."

"Oh. I see," she replied.

"But that's not my only offence. Continuation of pure genetic lines is very important on Betazed, for all families noble or not. Genetically compatible spouses are selected by our clan's leader. In my case that's my granduncle. We are betrothed in childhood." Matt's eyes stared at a fixed point over Aalin's head. "So I'm now in disparate."

She translated, "Not quite exiled, but no longer one of them."

He fidgeted with his mug. "Yeah. I just … couldn't do it. I couldn't compartmentalize my life where I am spouse to the mother of my children and lover to the one who carries my heart. If I found someone to cherish, I wanted to be all with him – friend, companion, lover, co-parent, and husband."

"If this isn't too personal a question, how long have you and Isak been together?"

"Four years. I joined the crew when Chris took over Enterprise from Captain April. Phil Boyce became CMO then. He was a mentor of mine at the Academy. Chris and Isak have served together for years."

"On what ships?"

"Ah … many of their past missions are shrouded in mystery. I must tell you … when you came into the mess tent … I wasn't shielding … I didn't expect visitors. I'm sorry." Matt avoided looking her directly in the eye.

"Then I should be the one apologizing for interrupting your personal downtime …" Aalin smiled offering reassurance that while unneeded his apology was accepted, "and the random chaos of my mind."

"You were thinking of your family when you walked in. That's why I opened up about mine," he explained. "There are similarities."

"Yes, a bit. I'm the introverted odd duck in a clan of extroverted, talented overachievers. And while I frequently confound my family, may rebel against their plans for me, and heavily disappoint them at times; I've not experienced from them the hurt you have from yours. Is it draining to shield from all the thoughts swirling around you?"

"Not so much on Enterprise, at least not most of the time. Here … with all that is happening … where there is so much emotion … yes, very. Though … this may sound odd, but when I shield, which is always since I left Betazed, I miss the constant hum in my mind. That is my normal. Mind-blind species fear having their every thought known and I get why. But it's a closeness with others that I crave at times. When alone with Isak I can narrow my range to him only and indulge. And while I am truly sorry for accidently invading your privacy, those few seconds when your thoughts were clear to me was a balm, like a hug." Matt carefully watched Aalin's reaction.

She held his gaze for several moments, considering. Then flashed a brilliant smile with a hint of mischief which animated her face. "I can't vouch for the quality of my thoughts nor their coherence as my mind is quite undisciplined. But, as those serving and living here need all the hugs we can offer, when you want that connection to another, you have my blanket permission to lower your shields around me."

He returned the smile and tipped his mug in her direction. "Thanks. I know we met only two weeks ago, but you feel like a friend."

"I'd like that." Aalin shook her head in disbelief. "Has it really only been two weeks since I almost threw up on that ambulance shuttle? Now I no longer notice when my uniform is covered in blood."

"These front-line hospitals are a crucible. And you are usually busier than the medics. When will the updates to the universal translator be ready?" Matt asked.

"The system engineers sent a new version of the needed algorithm. I'll test it later."

"Someday, when we are both less weary, please explain to me why this is taking so long. I thought the Hebrew and Aramaic Earth language dictionaries solved our problem."

"Sure." After taking a sip of tea Aalin continued, "The brief answer is the ancient Earth languages are similar but not exact matches. Conversing requires real-time modification from those starting points. The updated code will help bridge the gap while we continue to build a lexicon for each dialect. I have a list of new words from today. Also, the universal translator relies on reading neural impulses. Shenzhou's xenobiologists are still mapping the unique traits of the Noohran's synaptic pathways."

"We're running you ragged, calling at all hours of the day and night to translate for a patient."

"That's why I'm here. I thought you were spending the night on Enterprise with your husband. You mentioned a special anniversary?"

Matt chuckled. "I don't know about special. Isak's a sentimental guy, we celebrate a great many minor milestones in our relationship."

"I like that. I mean that you don't take each other for granted and you remember those little everyday moments which add up to a life together."

"One of the nurses is down with the local version of mild flu and I sent Doctor M'Benga to the ship for the night after he lost that kid in surgery. Isak and I can reminisce about our first kiss when this nightmare is over."

Aalin's smile faded, and her eyes clouded with unshed tears.

"Did they find the parents?"

She nodded. "I've told them." Until the universal translator was fully online, their interpreter rather than the physician explained a patient's condition and prognosis to family members, friends, and commanding officers. Sometimes the news was good, as often as not it wasn't.

"We've got to get these people treated sooner. Convince them to come for help before it's too late. In all my years of working in hospitals in war zones, I've never encountered such resistance from the local population. Typically Federation medical resources are welcomed." Matt rapped his knuckles on the table venting frustration. "What if … but the Captain would never permit it … and even if he did, Isak would veto it …"

"Allow what?" Aalin queried.

"Us going to the villagers rather than the other way round. Us meaning the medics. But it would be dangerous, the battle front shifts daily, and the villages are frequently attacked."

"Could we target it? Make a visit to two or three of the most prominent, like the local equivalent of a county seat. Then word might spread that it is safe to come to us," Aalin suggested.

Matt rubbed his chin. "Perhaps. At the very least that's a way to sell it to the brass. If those visits don't go awry, they may allow us to expand the outreach.

After Aalin left, Matt sorted through the impressions he read from her thoughts. You feel an overabundance of guilt for being safe on Enterprise while the inhabitants of the Gileseian refugee camps and your colleagues working there were attacked. Their injuries and deaths weigh on you, and you lack the training and background for sorting through those feelings. I need to keep an eye on that. Once the universal translator is certified for these mountain dialects, I'm transferring you back to Enterprise. For your own well-being.

ooooo

Present

Day 3

Noohra

Twilight had given way to dark by the time Aalin, Omer, Uri, and Sera neared the area where the other children waited. As they drew closer, a cacophony of voices rang out, too loud to be originating from the safety and protection of the cave.

I told them to stay inside and keep out of sight while I looked for those who were lost, Aalin thought. She stopped, eased Sera off her back and onto the ground then warned the trio, "Wait here. Don't talk, don't move; in the dark the surrounding trees will camouflage you."

Aalin quietly and slowly walked closer to the cave. Crouching to the ground, hiding behind the short bushes, she closed her eyes and listened.

Not all the voices she heard were familiar.

A/N: Inspiration for piano scene: George Winston's Variations on the Kanon:

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