Five Months Ago

Varian Presidential Palace

Previously: The Captain cleared his throat. "Making this an awkward segue," he said then paused before continuing, "It's time for bed."

"You go on," Aalin muttered as she continued flipping through pages. "I'm going to keep poking around, I may find a clue to the Varian's limited vocabulary.

Chris closed the book and laid it aside. "Enough work. Time for sleep. We both need it."

"I don't think you have that kind of authority," she countered while retrieving the book from the other side of the table then resuming her seat at it. "Perhaps Starfleet crews are trained for falling asleep on command, but I can't. Not when I'm not sleepy." The bridge of her nose creased, and she looked at the ceiling with one eye closed. "Wait is that a double negative?"

He gently tugged the book out of her hands. This time he held on to it. "Your yawns, which you've hidden well, at least to the less observant, indicate otherwise. On the sleepy part not the double negative part. If you lay down and close your eyes, sleep will come." A pause. Without breaking into a smile, which proved difficult, he added, "Put the toys away and go to bed."

"Your impersonation of my mother is spot on," she said with a tiny frown and in a tone of voice not sounding complimentary.

He responded without missing a beat, "That's because it's an impression of my own. I believe this is the point where I say scoot."

She rolled her eyes.

He said, "I'll give you time to settle in. There are some things in the wooden wardrobe you may find useful."

Unsure where she was outmaneuvered Aalin reluctantly stopped stalling and entered the bedroom. In the tall cabinet she found a lacy gown cut for someone taller and bustier but near her size. It hinted at what would be found underneath the white fabric but other than gaping a bit at the neckline was modest enough. For this she was grateful, the shawl collared robe tied with a belt was an unacceptable option for sleeping if she wished to remain clothed and she needed her dress wrinkle-free in the morning. Searching through the bedside table she found another book and slipped it under her pillow. No, mother always caught on to that, she thought. Tucking it under an arm she crawled into bed.

After ten minutes of no audible movement in the bedroom, Chris entered. Noting the curtains were already drawn against Varia's continuous sunshine, he turned off the overhead lighting. "Ah, I hate to be a bother, but you're on my side of the bed."

"Excuse me?" she asked.

He repeated, "That's my side of the bed. Do you mind?" He heard her soft chuckle.

"How very anal of you," Aalin said as she sifted over. "So you always sleep on the left?"

"I always sleep by the door," Chris answered as he stripped to crew shirt and underwear then took the vacated spot lying on his back and closing his eyes.

She started a question; but, having come to know the man beside her, filled in the answer: so anyone entering this room has to go through him to get to me. The thought sent a good shiver down her spine and raised goosebumps on her arms. To cover her reaction she said, "I should warn you I tend towards the middle of the bed."

"You'll get no complaints from me."

Aalin propped on an elbow and stared at Chris.

He opened one eye. "Just because you can trust me does not mean I'm immune to your charms. After all, I am only a mere mortal."

"That's a pretty cheeky remark given our current sleeping arrangements."

Closing the eye he grinned. "I know."

Head tilted she stared at him for another minute. Then smiled and curled on her left side facing Chris. Aalin put one arm under her pillow, her right arm crossed her waist, hand resting on the mattress. Her head burrowed into the pillow; soon her arms and shoulders relaxed. Five minutes later her breathing slowed into the effortless rise and fall of sleep. The hidden book tumbled onto the floor. Its noise woke her.

Chris raised into a sitting position and peered over her side. "How many times do I have to take that book away from you?"

"Technically it's a different book which you have not yet forbidden," she pointed out while retrieving the object from the floor and depositing it on the bedside table.

'Seriously, that's your response? You do remember I have Captain's stripes?

"As you never tire of reminding me of that fact, yes I do." Aalin delivered a mock salute before explaining, "Lawyer's daughter. When in trouble, we got severity and time shaved off our punishment for a well-reasoned counter argument." After resuming her previous positioning, she drifted back to sleep.

Yet Chris' found rest elusive. Training to fall asleep anytime, anywhere, regardless of external circumstances, regardless of internal turmoil, failed. Again lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling, hands tucked behind his head and resting on his pillow, thinking about the woman sleeping by his side. He glanced towards Aalin. She, in an endless cycle, pushed the blanket away. Then snuggled deeper into the bed seeking warmth. With only the thin, provocative gown for protection against the room's chilly temperature she shivered. Again he tucked the blankets around her. Again, without waking, her lips curled upward in a smile telegraphing fondness.

Chris wanted that smile reserved for him. His desire for her grew. Images of his hands roaming her body, playing, caressing, stroking, beckoned. He sternly pushed them back into a mental box and tightly padlocked it.

ooooo

After what felt like hours later but actually was closer to one, Chris woke and automatically reached to the other side of the bed. It was empty. Within seconds he was up and pulling on pants. Concern morphed into churning worry. He peered out of the bedroom. Nothing was disturbed, all was quiet. Aalin sat on the bench in the garden, her back presented to him.

Ratcheting down from the heightened and unneeded alert state, Chris leaned against the doorframe, silently watching her.

Una's right. Why am I holding back? Aalin's not a member of my crew requiring a slower caution. Time is slipping away. I've already wasted three weeks. Soon she'll go back to civilian life and Enterprise will be leaving for a twelve-month assignment. Our paths may never cross again.

She's special. And I want her to know that. I want to show her that.

And she's shy, so the first move is up to me. Caution flagged. These negotiations may take weeks. If she says no, working together can't be awkward for her, so tread carefully Christopher.

The clock read 1:30am. Chris moved through the living room, entered the garden, and abruptly halted an arm's span away from her. Aalin's hunched shoulders quivered, the posture of weeping. Her cries had no sound.

Retreat would alert her to his presence. Not that he would have or could have left, never after witnessing her distress. Chris cleared his throat.

Aalin hastily wiped at her eyes. A tiny, quiet voice said, "I'm sorry I woke you."

"You didn't," he responded waiting for permission before approaching.

"I'm alright. Go back to bed."

Chris replied, "You aren't. How can I help?"

She stayed silent.

He remained watchful.

Eventually she patted the empty side of the bench.

He interpreted this as an invitation and sat beside her, patiently waiting.

Aalin tilted her face towards the sky. Chris could now see its tearstains. She said, "I think working and living in space must be hard. How do you get use to not feeling the warmth of the sun? Or seeing it stream through the windows?"

"You adapt. And are rewarded by seeing and feeling dozens of other suns," he answered in a measured soothing tone of voice.

She nodded and lapsed back into silence before tentatively saying, "Usually I'm fine during the day, at least I do okay. Work pushes it all away." Her voice dropped to barely a whisper. "But sometimes, at night, I dream about it, the attack on the refugee camp. Nightmares of the school on burning, my tentmate protecting her patient by throwing herself in front of the bullets. She was a lot like Christine Chapel. Spunky. Brilliant … Afterwards its useless, trying to go back to sleep that is."

More silence.

"And I wonder, if I'd been there, would the militants have locked me in the school as well? Like the other two teachers? And I wonder … what were they thinking in those last moments? Were they terrified? At peace?" Tears flowed again snaking unhindered down her cheeks. She wrapped arms around her midriff, hugging herself.

"I asked my chief medical officer to pull the …" Chris stopped just before uttering the word autopsies, "… records in case you had questions. Both died from asphyxiation before the fire reached them. Their death was painless, and … not lengthy. Because of the back draft of the fire, they lost conscious quickly. I realize that is a small comfort."

"Thank you." A lengthy pause. "I feel … I was safe on Enterprise when … I should have been there … with my colleagues, by their sides." She gulped trying to hold back sobs.

"I get why you feel that way, I do. But your death in the fire, nor your incarceration with the other aid workers as a hostage, neither would have changed the outcomes. Look at me." He gently clasped her upper arms, his eyes radiated kindness and comfort as they held hers. "It's not your fault you weren't there. And it's okay you are safe when they were not." He sighed. "I'm sorry. I expected survivor's guilt, and saw small indications of it here and there, but … I never noticed … I didn't realize you were struggling this much. You are surrounded by strangers and far from friends and family. It's my job to look after you. I should have intervened sooner."

Aalin slipped out of his grip. "Not your fault. I grew up with four siblings and became an expert at hiding my feelings in order to avoid being teased." She looked at the ground. "It's hard for me to share confidences with people I don't know and … you have more important things clamoring for attention."

"Sometimes I have more urgent demands on my time but they're not more important. That's a key difference. Let me be there for you, I want to." Chris held out a hand. "Enough for tonight, come back to bed?"

She placed her hand in his larger one. After wrapping his fingers around hers, Chris squeezed lightly and led her inside. Before entering the bedroom Aalin stopped. Standing on tiptoes she placed a hand on his arm and whispered, "You don't always have to be a boy scout, you know."

He smoothed hair away from her puffy eyes. "This isn't the moment. You're hurting. You can't truly consent. And tomorrow morning you might regret the choice. I don't want that for you." In his head Chris added, when we make love for the first time, I don't want you to regret being with me.

Once in bed he coaxed her head onto his chest and wrapped his arms around her. Time slipped its stream and, in its suspension, for a moment, it felt to him as if he'd held her in this way many, many times.

ooooo

Present

Day 4

Enterprise Orbiting Aschask Prime

After the Huangdi delayed their meeting, Pike spent the unexpected free time laboring through the routine of a Starship Captain's job: approving or rejecting equipment, supply, and personnel requests; reviewing and signing myriad status reports; routing questions, suggestions, and other important data not requiring the commander's personal scrutiny to the relevant department heads. His assistant, Yeoman Mia Colt, stood nearby taking charge of the myriad PADDs handed to her organizing them and memorizing verbal instructions.

Pike was grateful for the busy work. Unfilled time germinated worry, as much for Aalin's emotional well-being as her physical safety. For the most part, she'd made peace with the losses during the attack on the refugee camp. Now and then the survivor's guilt rekindled with a night or two of bad dreams, but its blunt trauma had faded.

"Coffee?" he asked.

"Yes, right away sir," she responded with a grin.

"No, sit." Pike gestured at the chair in front of the kitchen table where he worked. "I meant do you want coffee too? I'll fetch it."

"Ah … yes. Cream and …"

"Five sugars," Pike finished with a smile and his usual tease, "Why do you bother adding coffee?" He returned with two mugs setting one in front of her. He took the chair at her side. "Let's call it a day. Number One can finish." He sipped from his mug.

"Tell me about the Huangdi," Colt said.

"He's essentially the equivalent of an old Earth Emperor or Tsar and the absolute rule of most of the eastern hemisphere of Aschask Prime. His people are less technologically advanced than the West or Commonwealth, and we know the least about them," Pike answered. "Tonight's dinner should prove interesting. And hopefully useful."

A call from the bridge cut in. "The Huangdi's representative sends apologies and signals His Imperial Majesty is ready to receive you now."

"Very well. Send my compliments. We'll beam down in thirty minutes," Pike instructed. He turned to Colt. "Give me the room please." As she approached the door of his quarters Pike reminded, "There's no need to wait up for me."

Ignoring the order she repeated her firm mantra before exiting, "If you're on duty sir, I'm on duty."

Pike pushed the unfinished coffee aside; it's taste now bitter rather than welcome or soothing. Instead the worry and frustration he couldn't let go of settled in his gut. Aalin's trapped and facing danger alone. If any of the children in her care don't make it, this time she may not find her way back from the pain and guilt. And I'm not there to protect her from that.

As a seasoned commander he believed worry a waste of energy needed for managing a situation and making decisions; frustration a waste of time, and anger better directed into action. And he despised feeling helpless.

The Aschaski held the key for ending this. And he'd get the answers needed out of the Triumvirate, preferably voluntarily.

Or by wringing their necks.