A/N: Anaya is pronounced: 'long a – neigh – short a.' It is the name given Aalin by the Noohrans.

Six Weeks Ago

Noohra

Enterprise Orbiting Noohra

Matt decided the best chance for getting his proposal approved was convincing his husband first since the security chief's opinion would weigh heavily in Pike's decision. After a day of only light casualties and none expected overnight, he used the opportunity for an unplanned visit to Enterprise.

When the doors to their quarters swished open admitting Matt, Isak was sprawled on the couch, eyes closed, lips slightly parted emitting a faint snore. Before the doors closed, having detected a minute change in his environment, Isak was alert, on his feet, at the entryway, and poised for action. "Crikey! What's going on?" Isak barked then muttered, "Oh, it's you," while running a hand through his blonde hair. When awakened suddenly from deep sleep, the grizzly side of Isak's nature surfaced rather than the cuddly teddy bear side.

"Good to see you too dear," Matt replied with a chuckle.

Isak pulled Matt into his arms, and they kissed. "How long can you stay?" Isak asked in a husky voice after they breathlessly broke contact. His fingers idly traced down Matt's jaw and across his chest before both hands rested on Matt's waist; Matt's lips and tongue favored the sensitive spot where Isak's neck and shoulder met.

"A few hours." Matt clasped the security chief's hand and led him to the sofa. They sat side by side; their hands and fingers remained entwined. "Talk first."

Isak favored his husband with a knowing look. "And what crazy scheme, which I am going to hate and for which you want my support, have you concocted?"

"Crazy is a bit unfair," Matt protested.

"True. Yet I hesitate to use a more colorful metaphor as I'm still hopeful we will make love before you beam back to the surface."

"Others think it's a good idea as well."

"I see." Isak smoothed back a stray lock of hair from Matt's forehead. "Name one."

"Lieutenant Matthews."

Isak snorted. "A civilian who gave up a promising career at the state department? And who on Varia …"

"That second incident wasn't her fault," Matt reminded.

"Perhaps, though I doubt Captain Pike agrees with you," Isak pointed out.

"And while you protest, I know you. Her choice to leave a comfortable job for the refugee camps earned your respect."

"Very well, I concede. Anyone else?"

"Yes. Me."

"Matt …" Isak started frustration evident in his tone. He paused then waved a hand in acquiescence. "Go on."

"We're here to provide medical and humanitarian assistance to the Noohrans. If they won't come to us for it, we have to go to them," the nurse explained rapidly in an earnest tone of voice.

Releasing Matt's hand, Isak jumped to his feet and paced the room. "The situation on Noohra is difficult. And the mountain villages are enduring the worst of the destruction and causalities. But we have to look at the situation critically instead of through a lens of emotion." After three circuits he stopped in front of his husband and wagged a finger. "You'd be traveling through the battle front."

"Near the battle front," Matt corrected. "But yes, things could get dicey," he then acknowledged before arguing, "but nothing we can't handle. Besides the Aschaski aren't reckless nor stupid. And we treat their injured soldiers as well. They won't interfere with Federation personnel, nor harm them."

"Not intentionally, but war zones are chaotic and unpredictable. You know that." Isak reminded with emphasis.

"We'll keep a safe distance from the fighting. And when warranted, our rules of our engagement allow emergency transport from any location rather than only designated beam out sites."

Isak resumed pacing and countered, "What about air raids and strafing runs? From the sky the Aschaski cannot distinguish between Federation personnel and native inhabitants."

"That is a risk," Matt admitted. "But their aerial bombings tend to be during early mornings or late evenings. We'll limit travel to between those periods. And we can pack a portable shield as a backup in case emergency beam out is a problem. Your guys can assembly and activate one of those shied generators in thirty seconds. That's a comfortable margin from the first identification of the planes."

"You've been working on this for a while haven't you."

"A few days," the Betazoid admitted.

"I don't know. It's hard enough protecting the far-flung aid stations." When Isak stopped circling the room like a predatory bird and sank into an armchair, Matt knew he was making progress. He then offered the next pillar of his case. "Spock's in favor of the plan as well."

"This is big ask Matt. I'm unsure if Chris will authorize it."

"Imzadi, people are dying … children are dying … from injuries we can fix."

Isak steepled his fingers. "I'd insist on a sizeable security escort."

"Of course."

"We'd need … what … two … maybe three shuttles?" Isak mulled aloud as he sifted through scenarios.

Matt shook his head. "There are few suitable landing sites. We'd have to use local transportation, oios."

"Oios?" A lengthy pause. "You mean … horses?"

Matt rose to his feet and nodded; a faint grin ghosted before quickly disappearing.

Isak groaned audibly. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bloody hell, how am I going to keep our resident cowboy on the ship rather than riding off to the rescue on a white charger?"

"Guess that's why you have the extra stripe," Matt teased as he tugged his partner onto his feet and led Isak to their bed.

ooooo

Two Days Later

Noohra

Starfleet Mobile Surgical Hospital in the Har Mountains

"Where is she?" Pike queried the assembled officers.

"This morning one of the aid stations required a translator. Lieutenant Matthews is returning on one of the ambulance shuttles and is en route," Spock answered.

"If this expedition isn't underway in thirty minutes, it's off for today. There won't be time to return before dark," Pike said. "Where are the battalions entrenched?"

"Well away from our planned route," the officer leading the security contingent reported.

"Spock, make sure you keep an open channel to Enterprise throughout the trip," Pike reminded.

"Yes, sir."

Pike then asked, "You still believe it's best if Aalin … Lieutenant Matthews approaches first, and alone?"

Matt, Spock, and the security officer simultaneously answered, "Yes."

Speaking for the trio Spock continued, "Hospitality mores for strangers are sacred in these mountain villages. Though her hair and eye coloring are different, in other ways the lieutenant physically resembles the natives. She can speak to them directly, in their language. For these reasons it is unlikely she will be perceived as a threat to them or be harmed by them."

"That's a lot of suppositions," Pike noted in a quiet voice.

"The goal is worthy," Spock said in reply.

"Agreed," Pike responded as a shuttle landed a few meters away. Aalin emerged behind two anti-grav stretchers bearing patients. When he caught site of her blood-stained uniform, Pike's breath hitched, and his heart skipped a beat; he thought, I'll never get used to seeing her like this.

"I'll get changed," she called out.

Aalin joined the assembled group ten minutes later clothed in the long band-collared tunic and simple pants favored by the native people in this area. Pike noted with disappointment her long hair was now cropped to a chin length bob; the style favored by the mountain peoples.

Again and again she glanced nervously at the line of saddled oios while the Captain issued final instructions. Once the orders completed, the others mounted their oios. Aalin hesitated. Pike turned to her and said quietly, "I'll help you."

"Ah … I think I'll walk."

Pike's eyebrow raised. "Why?"

"I'm … I'm not … fond of horses," Aalin said her hands fidgeting as she shifted from one foot to the other and back.

"How can anyone not like horses … what do you mean?" he sputtered.

"Simply that I prefer walking to riding," she reaffirmed chin firmly raised and jutting punctuating her commitment to this inclination.

"One, that isn't feasible, you couldn't keep up on foot with the others riding. Two, your mount is experienced with these trails, he knows his way to and from the camp so even if separated from the group you can't get lost. And three, he is tame, very tame. I checked. So there is no reason to be anxious," Pike countered.

"That's easy for you to say, you're not the one who, for the next few hours, will be straddling a thousand-pound animal with a mind of his own," Aalin replied. She scrutinized the remaining riderless horse and remarked, "He's very tall …"

"Average," Pike corrected.

"That distinction will be of little comfort when I tumble off onto the hard ground."

"Come," he beckoned. Reluctantly she approached the animal, stopping well outside the reach of its head and hooves. "Nearer," Pike encouraged. When she inched closer, he clasped her hand and glided her fingertips across the oio's forehead. Pike whispered, "His name is Erets."

She quickly withdrew her hand and jumped back when the horse snorted and pawed the ground.

Pike spoke to Erets in a soothing almost monotone voice. Unintentionally and unknowing, he used the same intonation with Aalin. "He senses your discomfort and anxiety and is responding to that. Take a deep breath and try again."

The horse remained quiet when her fingertips brushed against his forehead. Knowing Pike stood behind her ready to intervene, she relaxed and let her touch drift down his muzzle. The oio nickered and whinnied.

"Erets," Aalin repeated his name in her melodic voice. He nuzzled her cheek.

"Ready?" Pike asked. When Aalin nodded, he helped her climb onto the horse, his hands lingering on her waist as she settled into the saddle and accepted the reins. As always, his touch sent a shiver up her spine and she trembled slightly. An electric shock discharged when his fingertips slid away from her waist and across one hip.

Aalin murmured; the words were indecipherable to all but man standing beside her. Pike cleared his throat, stepped back, and looked to Spock. "I'll expect a full report when you return."

ooooo

They had chosen a settlement ten miles east of the fighting, one serving as a regional gathering spot; tomorrow was the weekly market day which would draw in inhabitants from neighboring farms and villages. The journey there was bumpy and longer than expected due to the rocky terrain. On arrival all but Aalin remained on their horses within sight of the village but well outside of its borders. Aalin slid off her oio and led him down what appeared to be the main road.

A couple of children approached her, they stopped and pointed saying, "Honey hair," before running back to their mothers. None of the inhabitants appeared hostile, but they kept at distance.

She tied her oio near a water barrel and patted his side before walking towards an elderly man sitting with a young boy. The man hummed a tune which the boy was trying to mimic on a wooden instrument resembling a flute, though the boy held it vertically rather than horizontally. Despite understanding the science and logic behind the phenomena of similar music and language created independently by civilizations light-years apart, she still marveled at the resemblance of the tune to a song from Earth. Automatically and without forethought, Aalin softly sang the words familiar to her, "Elohai, n'tzor l'shoni meira us'fatai midabeir mirma, V'limkal'lai nafshi tidom v'nafshi ke-afar lakol tih'yeh, Elohai, Elohai."

The man responded, "Your shîyrâr is like but also different."

Aalin said, "I am a stranger and speak a similar yet different language. May I approach?"

"Yes." He gestured to the boy, "This is my pupil. Enos, make welcome." The child stood and bowed deeply.

She inclined her head in the expected acknowledgement and sat on the offered wooden bench.

The teacher directed the child, "Please continue with the lesson."

Grasping the instrument tightly in his hands, Enos inhaled deeply and blew into the mouthpiece as if inflating a large balloon. The sound emitted was ear-splitting and off-key. He turned to Aalin and demanded, "Did you have to learn this?"

She favored the child with a smile. "Yes, actually I did."

Enos shoved the instrument into her hands. "Prove it."

After the teacher nodded his permission, Aalin accepted the recorder and gingerly blew a few test notes. Finding a familiar key, she played a short, lively tune and then surrendered the instrument back to the child.

"That is all for today Enos, return to your mother and ask her to bring refreshment while I speak with our guest." The child bowed to the Noohran man and then again to Aalin before scampering away. "You are from the sky?" he asked.

A young woman approached and offered a ceramic mug; Aalin sipped the lightly fermented beverage. "Yes. My friends are waiting for permission before entering your village, they have medicine and supplies …"

Another Noohran male who Aalin judged to be in his mid-thirties interrupted the conversation positioning himself between her and the teacher. "Grandfather, you cannot trust every stranger wandering into the village! Not in the middle of a war. Especially if they are off-worlders," he emphasized.

Addressing the speaker, the teacher replied in stern tone of voice, "Sit. Your time in the capital city has eroded your manners. We do not turn away women nor songmasters from our fires." Turning to Aalin he continued convivially, "Please excuse my rude grandson, he is … protective beyond need … and at times beyond reason."

Micah snorted as he looked at his grandfather.

Aalin flashed a sympathetic smile to the younger man, "Our leader can be as well."

With the aid of a cane, the teacher slowly rose to his feet. "Come, I wish to meet her friends."

ooooo

Spock and Matt presented their offerings to the elders, a trio comprised of a male and two females. The teacher, a revered bard, spoke in favor of accepting the aid. Though wary the elders allowed medics to treat two injured warriors, others from the Federation party to help rebuild a protective fence destroyed from cannon fire, and the engineer Pike included in the delegation to help stabilize a building shelled during one of the recent aerial attacks. In recompense, the villagers prepared an afternoon meal for the Starfleet personnel. Those chosen for this assignment had learned enough of the local dialect to engage in basic conversations without their translator. With these rare free moments, Aalin drifted away from the chatting groups and sat alone.

Micah detached himself from the others and joined her. He gestured at Spock. Throughout the day children surrounded the Vulcan. Wherever he went, a train followed as if he were the proverbial pied piper. "El, an elf with delicately pointed ears, is one of our most beloved myths. The children never expected to meet him incarnate. Your Lieutenant has been gracious indulging their attentions."

"Being surrounded by a gaggle of children is new experience for Spock. Though, as always, he has found ways to rise and cleverly meet the unexpected," Aalin replied with a smile as the Vulcan explained Newton's third law in broken Noohran.

"El is a protector and gift bringer," Micah said.

"We have a similar legend on my planet."

"Our El also has an impish sense of humor." A pause. "Are many from Spock's world in your fleet?"

"Yes. Though he is the only one assigned to Enterprise, and currently no Vulcans serve on the Shenzhou," she answered.

Silence stretched. Micah filled it. "I meant no offence earlier."

"None was taken," Aalin reassured.

"It's just … my people believe the principles of hospitality are more important than prudent caution, a belief which comes with irreplaceable costs. The Aschaski are targeting bards like my grandfather since they are the heart of my people. That's one of the reasons I returned home from the capital."

"And the other?"

His eyes narrowed; their soft grey turned to cold, flinty steel. "To fight our enemy."

ooooo

Micah served as a liaison for his people, guiding those in need to the mobile hospital. He also was a leader in the underground resistance and risked peril infiltrating the Aschaski to gather vital intelligence.

His grandfather gifted Aalin with her Noohran name – Anaya – meaning 'one like us.'

ooooo

Present

Noohra

The initial jolt of panic morphed into dread before dissipating into worry. Aalin silently crept nearer the cave sheltering the orphans intending to visually scout then withdraw back to the safety of the forest and devise a plan. The number of unfamiliar voices increased as she moved closer; dread and panic threatened again.

Dropping to hands and knees to shelter behind a row of hedges which was half her height, she listened again. Mixed with unknown voices were familiar shouts and laughter. The sounds of running and games being played. A fire crackled. She sat back on her heels and considered. No crying, no screams.

Carefully Aalin raised enough to look over the hedge. The scene was boisterous. Yet, the orphans were not alarmed; none cowered in fear, none were trying to go unnoticed. Instead children sat in small groups greedily eating. A game of chase was in progress. Others danced. An unrecognized Noohran female stirred a cauldron suspended over a small fire. Another Noohran ladled out food, refilling bowls in outstretched hands.

Another voice piqued her attention … familiar … unexpected but not unwelcome …

Is it possible … but how …?

Deciding the hows and whys were unimportant in this moment, Aalin quickly returned to the three children hidden in the woods waiting for her. After resettling Sera on her back and clasping a hand of each of the boys she said to them, "All's well. Let's go."

When they entered the area around the cave, an adult male Noohran approached. Omer protectively stepped in front of Aalin and the other children. She put a hand on his shoulder, leaned down and whispered, "It's OK. He's a friend." Omer remained steadfastly in place.

Leaving her hand on the child's shoulder Aalin looked up and said in a tone of voice mixed with gratitude and disbelief, "Micah."

"Anaya."

"The children?" she asked unable to keep the anxiousness out of her voice and expression.

"All are well," he reassured with a smile.

ooooo

Sera managed to remain still long enough for Micah to treat the puncture wound on her foot before she and her brother Uri ran off to join the other children. While they slurped the offered hot soup, both recounted their adventure to an enthralled crowd frequently muttering "Ohs" and "Ahs" and occasionally inhaling sharply as Uri embellished the scary bits.

Micah listened to the account favoring the siblings with an amused expression, the corners of his mouth tugging upward during one of the more obvious enhancements. "Uri's going to be shīrén someday," he remarked to Aalin. "Or a village delegate to the regional council."

"Bard?" Aalin asked guessing the meaning of the unfamiliar word.

The Noohran man nodded.

Omer continued hoovering close to Aalin. "Micah, give us a minute alone?" she said.

"I'll get you something to eat," he replied.

Aalin turned to Omer and held his gaze. She said in a sincere tone, "Thank you for finding and caring for Sera and Uri. You should eat; spend time with your friends. And rest because I'm going to need your help tomorrow."

Omer waited several seconds. Then with noticeable reluctance he nodded assent and left for the fire.

Returning Micah gestured at the cave and the two retreated inside. "Magda and Li are young mothers, they can manage the children on their own for a while," he said offering more reassurance. Aalin sank to the floor and leaned against the cave wall, closing her eyes, and sighing with relief. Micah sat opposite cross-legged and handed her a bowl insisting, "Eat."

He assessed the woman in front of him while she slowly nibbled at the food. They'd last seen one another four weeks ago before he left on a mission to the villages located in the highest altitudes in these mountains. Now Aalin was noticeably thinner, and the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the exhaustion she tried to hide; her movements and body language emitted bone-weariness. Micah correctly surmised she'd slept little since leaving the orphanage three days ago.

Laying aside the bowl which still contained most of the soup, she said in a soft voice, "You're in grave danger here."

"Yes," he agreed, "But not as much as you. The children told me what happened at the orphanage. And about your abrupt return to the eastern mountain ridges. How did you know the resistance trail was compromised?"

"A warning from one I could trust. I think its best if I keep the identity a secret."

His silence confirmed understanding. "Several of the cuts on your feet need tending. I'll see to it."

Aalin grasped his hand making sure she had his full attention. "Our first aid supplies are very limited. Be sparing, don't treat anything that can wait, that isn't serious enough to keep me from continuing."

"Very well." He worked in silence keenly aware even brief conversation was too much for Aalin to offer in this moment. Once finished he said, "We have much to discuss." In response to her nod he added, "Tomorrow. Rest first."

"I will as soon as I see to the children."

"We shall care for them tonight." After gathering a soft mat and blanket, Micah helped Aalin to her feet and beckoned. "Come. I've scouted the next cave. It is quiet and safe."

An hour later Micah noticed Omer stretched out on a sleeping mat laid in the opening of the adjoining cave; the boy slumbered yet was deliberately placed so anyone trying to get to Aalin would have to go through him.