Stardate 2260.244

"So of all these compounds, which would you select to treat a Tellarite adolescent for nausea?"

Dagny blinked and gazed disinterestedly at the pharmaceutical cabinet shelf to which Voris was pointing. She wasn't sure why she was looking at all—it wasn't as though the answer was written anyway. "Zelamine?"

"Why?"

"Because it's a good anti-emetic."

"Yes, but why would you use it in this particular instance?"

Dagny moaned a disgruntled syllable and crossed her arms. "Because… I just would."

"There is no value in a correct answer if one cannot understand why it is correct."

"So I was right then? It is zelamine?"

"Yes."

A staring contest commenced. She knew she was acting like a petulant child when she really should be grateful that Voris would even take the time to teach her about pharmaceuticals, but she didn't really feel like learning right now. She didn't feel like doing anything. She was tired and restless and things were still awkward between them.

The mood stabilizers had helped keep the worst of her emotions in check, but they'd been indiscriminate in their function. For a while, she'd stopped feeling manic surges of rage or depression, but she also hadn't felt much in the way of joy or excitement. She'd mostly felt numb.

At first, having muted emotions had been a blessing because it had given her time to process her feelings about Voris with a rational mind. She'd decided it wasn't so strange that she might fall in love with him. They were having a baby together and they lived together and they'd been through so much together, so the idea that some subconscious part of her brain might fantasize about being together romantically actually made a lot of sense. It was just a harmless little crush, born out of convenience and proximity. She hoped that once the baby was born, sleepless nights and dirty diapers would dampen any romantic feelings.

Being on the mood stabilizers had given her a whole new appreciation for Vulcan logic. If that was what it felt like to be Vulcan, there were a lot of advantages, so long as one didn't really mind giving up all the positive feelings as well. Her mind had never been clearer and she'd been able to reexamine her life with renewed focus. The idea of having a baby and someday going to medical school had seemed incredibly achievable, but doubts were sinking back in.

With every passing day, she required higher and higher doses of the stabilizers to keep her balanced, and last night, she'd taken the maximum possible dose. Despite this fact, she'd stubbed her toe getting out of the shower that morning and had kicked the bathroom door out of some ridiculous reflex to get even with an inanimate object. She was on the verge of losing control again, and it was incredibly distressing.

"Dagny?"

"What?"

"Perhaps you would like to cease our lessons for the day?"

"Yes," she grunted through gritted teeth, before softening her tone and adding, "Please."

"Would you like to go rest?"

"I'm fine. Besides, the clinic doesn't close for another three hours."

Voris exhaled softly. "And we have not had a patient for the past two hours. I do not believe you are needed."

His words stung. From a purely objective point of view, she knew he was correct, but had he needed to say it that way?

"You are scratching your arms again," he added.

Dagny looked down and saw he was right. The flesh on her forearms was red and angry. The scratching was an odd habit that had developed out of nowhere. It wasn't intentional; it was an absentminded ritual that had drawn blood on two previous occasions, despite preventive measures such as clipping her fingernails and wearing long sleeves.

She dropped her arms and folded her left hand over her right, trying to ignore the fact that the baby seemed to be doing somersaults in her belly. She didn't want to go upstairs and take a nap, but neither did she wish to sit around the clinic with Voris constantly prodding her. She wanted to get out of the clinic but still had two more months of immunosuppressant therapy.

Having grown up on a ship, she was no stranger to cabin fever, but at least the Albret had been home. It had been large and full of people. The clinic was tiny and feeling more like a prison cell with each passing day.

The clinic door suddenly opened behind Voris. Aisla's cheerful presence lit up the room as she declared, "Mae's baby decided to come a week early! What luck! I just came to get some supplies. I've got it all under control."

"You have proven yourself quite capable," Voris agreed.

Dagny gritted her teeth. Mae Faehren was a nineteen year-old first time mother and would probably have a long, difficult labor, but Dagny would gladly go to her and tirelessly support her for days, even if only to get out of the clinic.

"Oh, I also wanted to say congratulations!"

"For what?" Dagny asked, wandering in Aisla's direction.

"Congratulations to Voris," she said, turning to face him. "I just heard you were picked to be on the council."

Dagny nearly choked. "Huh?"

"That is not possible," Voris replied.

"I heard it from Sanjay who said the results were going to get released this evening. If anyone would know, he would."

"No, I mean that it is not possible because I was not campaigning for a seat on the council."

Aisla zipped up her medical bag and hoisted it onto her shoulder. "I'm just passing along the message. You almost sound annoyed."

"I am not annoyed," Voris retorted. "I am merely pointing out that there have been no formal elections, only a nomination process. I have not accepted the nomination."

"Well, I voted for you," Aisla said with a warm smile.

"Had you consulted with me, I would have urged you to save your vote."

Dagny looked from Aisla to Voris. She was dimly aware the colony was trying to build a new government, but she had no idea Voris had been in the running for it.

"So, what does this mean, you being nominated?" Dagny asked.

"It means precisely that—that I have been nominated. I have no intention of serving on the council."

"I would love to stay and listen to you complain about having the respect of most of the colony, but I have an expectant mother who is expecting me," Aisla grunted, whipping around and marching toward the door. "I'll call you if I need anything."

The door closed behind her and Dagny turned back to Voris. She wasn't sure what to say so she simply muttered, "I guess I should pay more attention to politics. I knew there was some kind of vote, I just didn't know people were voting for you."

"It was logical of Samantha Bergeron to share the burden of governing, but I have informed her and many others that I have no intention of accepting a leadership position here."

"Why not?"

"I believe I have previously explained my lack of ambition and talent for governance."

"Have you ever actually done it?"

"One does not need to attempt a thing to know they would not excel at it."

"That doesn't sound very logical."

"It is, I assure you." His answer seemed oddly stilted and curt, giving Dagny the impression he was growing irritated.

"Maybe you can explain it to me."

"Perhaps I may have some aptitude for governing and politics, but because I lack any desire to perform such a duty, I would be unable to fully commit myself to the task. Perhaps if there were no one else capable or willing, or if there were another doctor to take my place, I might consider it, but this is not the case."

His vehemence was surprising, but it was also impressive. "I think you would be good at it, no matter what you say."

His left eyebrow sprang upwards. "You are encouraging me to do this?"

"No, I think you should do what you want, I'm only telling you I think you might be better at it than you think."

"What gives you cause to say so?"

She suddenly felt shy and silly. "You're Vulcan. You have a knack for remembering rules and regulations. People seem to like you. You're logical. You're fair. You're kind." Dagny's cheeks started to feel warm from all the praise she was singing, but it was true. He was all those things and more.

Voris tilted his head downward in what was obviously a posture of deep self-reflection. She didn't expect him to say anything else, so she headed toward the stairs to their quarters when he said, "There is something I would like to speak with you about."

It sounded so final and serious. The hairs on the back of her neck and arms stood erect and without turning to look at him, she asked, "What is it?"

"Are you satisfied with your life on Bergeron colony?"

She swallowed a lump in her throat. "It's not the home I used to have, but it's home enough, I guess."

She heard the sound of his shoes clicking on the stone floor and sensing he was approaching, she turned to face him at last. "Is something wrong?"

"There is another reason I would prefer to avoid serving on the council."

"What's that?"

"I do not want to remain here indefinitely. I do not wish to stay beyond the Federation-imposed quarantine, and I feel it would be improper to accept this position if I have no intention of remaining."

"You're leaving?" Dagny choked, instantly apprehensive.

"I had hoped you would come with me."

Dagny allowed his words to sink in and was surprised to discover she probably agreed with him. She wasn't sure why she'd really agreed to come, other than that Cestus III wasn't New Vulcan, the Svendsens lived here, and the planet's climate would be compatible with her hybrid pregnancy. But there were a lot of places that weren't New Vulcan and she wouldn't be pregnant forever and all things considered, there were a lot of things Bergeron colony lacked.

"My primary hesitation in leaving is that I would be leaving the colony without a physician," he added.

"You can't think in those terms," Dagny blurted. "I stayed on the Albret initially because I felt indebted to them for covering the expense of my paramedic school but after a while, I realized I was staying because I thought no one would replace me if I left."

"Was there anyone willing and qualified to replace you?"

"No, not immediately on hand, no. They would have had to post an advertisement. Probably pay some med school dropout an exorbitant rate for a short term contract. But the point is, every adult on the Albret made a conscious choice to be there. There are other ways they could have made a living, ways that would have been safer and more stable for their families."

"I want a safe environment for our child," Voris nodded.

"I do too," Dagny admitted. "It never really hit me until now. I feel like we came here to run away from our problems or try to find something we thought we lost. You grew up in a place that doesn't exist anymore and I grew up in a place where uncertainty was the rule. I guess it never occurred to me that there could be another way to be."

"There will be a degree of uncertainty to any decision we make and safety is relative," he reminded her.

"I know. I'm sure everyone thought Vulcan was a safe place to live." She regretted saying it almost immediately. She flicked her eyes in Voris' direction and was startled to find him nodding. "I guess what I'm trying to say is maybe we shouldn't feel forced to stick things out because other people have made a choice to stay."

"So you will leave with me?"

Dagny went through the motion of allowing him to think she was thinking about it, but she already knew the answer. "I know that I want our child to grow up in a home that stays in one place and doesn't get threatened by Klingons and starvation as a general rule."

Voris nodded and for some strange reason, Dagny started to feel light and giddy. She took several deep breaths, trying to get her feelings under control.

"I am glad we are in agreement. However, I think it would be wise to keep this decision to ourselves for now."

"Yeah, we still have to live here for the next eleven months," Dagny sighed.

"331 days."

Dagny laughed. "But who's counting?"

"I am."

Dagny laughed harder, then suddenly felt the strange impulse to cry. She knew Voris' eyes were on her and she hated it.

He cleared his throat. "It would seem the mood stabilizers are not as effective as they once were."

She sniffed and gave him an apologetic smile. "No, I don't think so."

Neither of them said anything and Dagny supposed it was because they both knew how the conversation would go. He would offer to mind meld with her, she would refuse, he would remind her they couldn't live this way for the next three months until she gave birth, she would start getting upset, and around and around they would go. Deep down she knew something would have to give, but she would prefer to find an option that didn't include her giving up her most private thoughts, feelings, and memories.

"Where will we go?" she asked.

"I presume you are changing the subject and inquiring about a potential future destination after we leave the colony?"

"Yes."

"Where would you like to go?"

She scowled. "I didn't know where we should go five months ago and we somehow ended up here, so I'm probably not the best person to ask. I'm willing to entertain any suggestions you might have."

"I know you do not consider Earth to be your home, but I have lived there and believe it would be quite suitable for all our needs—a safe place for our child, adequate employment for myself, and medical school for you."

She rolled her eyes. "You still think I could go to medical school? After all, I don't even know why you would give zelamine to a Tellarite kid with an upset stomach."

"What you lack in formal training and education, you compensate for with care and dedication and I do believe with time and discipline, you will prove yourself to be an exceptional physician."

"You've said things like that before."

"It is the truth."

Her eyes began to water and she looked away. As ridiculous as it was, she couldn't bear to listen to his encouragement. She didn't feel deserving.

"You are crying," Voris noted.

"You are stating the obvious," Dagny rebutted, mimicking his dry tone.

"Would you reconsider my offer-"

"No."

"You did not allow me to finish speaking."

"That's because the answer is still no," Dagny glowered. "I don't want you poking around in my head."

"I was referring to my offer to instruct you in some basic meditation techniques."

"Oh."

"I do not know how beneficial-" Voris was interrupted by the sound of the clinic door sliding open to reveal Samantha Bergeron.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," she said, straightening her jacket.

"Not really," Dagny said, putting on a fake smile. "What can we do for you?"

"I had come to talk to Dr. Voris, actually, but as it turns out, I'm getting a bit of a headache. Could you maybe get me something for it?"

Voris and Dagny exchanged sidelong glances and she quietly excused herself from the pair of them to sift through the pharmaceutical cabinet for a mild analgesic.

"Sanjay finished tabulating the nomination results," Sam said straightforwardly. "We have thirteen people who will need to participate in runoff elections, but there were three people who received more than fifty percent of the vote so they can automatically assume one of the nine council seats."

"And I am one of those people," Voris finished for her.

"It just so happens that you are, along with myself and Kor'la."

"I must respectfully decline."

Dagny bit her lip and held her breath. It took Sam ages to answer. "I realize you're very busy and you made it pretty clear you aren't interested, but people here believe in you."

"People here believe in misplaced stereotypes that Vulcans make exceptional politicians. Either that or they wrongly believe my skill in medical care translates into a talent for governance, which it does not."

"Can't you just try? No one expects you to be perfect. Everyone knows I haven't been, but if you just gave it a chance-"

"I have given you my answer."

"How can you be this selfish?"

Dagny's tongue jumped into the conversation on instinct. "Don't call him selfish."

"Dagny, please-"

"No, Voris," she interrupted, fitting a canister into the hypospray and shifting to face Samantha Bergeron. "We came here because this colony needed a doctor. He works harder and longer hours than most people here, so you don't get to act like he isn't doing enough."

Sam made an ugly face but quickly corrected it. "I didn't mean to imply Dr. Voris doesn't already provide a valuable service to this colony."

"But that's what you're doing," Dagny replied.

"Dagny, allow me to speak for myself."

It suddenly occurred to her to feel embarrassed, but before the awkwardness could get out of hand, she thrust the hypospray into Voris' hand and muttered, "Well, that is what she was doing."

Before Voris and Sam could resume their argument about the state of the colony's council, a lanky Andorian girl wandered into the clinic. "I'm here to see the doctor?"

"How may I be of assistance?" Voris replied.

"It isn't for me," the girl replied, eyeing Dagny and Sam warily. "It's for my mother. She has a really bad cough."

"The clinic is open for another two hours and will be open tomorrow," Voris explained.

"Can't you just give me some medicine?"

"It would be best if she came in person so I could make an accurate diagnosis and provide her with the most appropriate treatment for her condition."

"She won't come though. She says it's too far, she says she doesn't feel that bad. I'm worried. It's getting worse. Last night she could barely breathe."

"I can visit her but I cannot compel her to accept treatment."

"But you'll come?" the girl asked, her antennae swiveling on her forehead.

"Yes."

"I'll pack you a bag," Dagny murmured to Voris, avoiding Sam's gaze.

"I wish to thank you for your encouragement and I thank the colony for its consideration, but I am quite resolute in my decision," Voris said, turning away from Sam. "And as you can see, my present duties keep me quite occupied. I do not believe I would be able to devote sufficient time to both the council and my patients."

Samantha Bergeron pursed her lips and left without another word, and several minutes later, Voris followed the Andorian girl out the door, leaving Dagny alone. Three more patients trickled in with minor ailments, the last one being a nine year-old boy named Andrew Allsworth. He was a pale, slender wisp of a human, and it was a split lip, scraped chin, and bruised ribs that had brought him to her.

She had him sit up on the edge of one of the biobeds, crossed her arms, and stared at him. He refused to look her in the eye, but eventually, he just mumbled, "I was playing football in one of the back tunnels and I fell."

"You were playing football by yourself?"

"Maybe."

"And you fell hard enough to scrape up both sides of your face and bang up your ribs? Must have been one hell of a fall."

"Hmmm," he moaned, shrugging his shoulders.

"Did someone hurt you?"

His eyes finally flicked up from the floor to glance in her direction. "It's not a big deal."

"Who did this to you?"

"If I tell you and they find out, it'll get worse," he sniffed, rubbing his nose and wincing.

Dagny nodded, feeling utterly helpless. She could patch up bumps and bruises well enough, but as far as she was aware, there was no vaccine against bullies. She wanted to hug him and tell him it would be alright, but she didn't really know what to say. All the kids on the Albret had made it a point to tease and pick on each other, but no one had ever been beaten up.

She picked up a dermal regenerator and decided to try a more casual tactic to coax him to talk. "Let's get to work, shall we?"

She had finished mending the scrapes to his chin and lip when she noticed Ann Svendsen had come into the clinic carrying a bag.

"Hi Andy," Ann said. "What brings you by the clinic?"

"I was playing in one of the back tunnels and I fell."

"You sure those Romulan boys weren't pushing you around again?"

Andrew gulped and looked away.

"What Romulan boys?" Dagny asked.

"You know, the ones who were sick in the clinic a few weeks ago," Ann replied, crossing her arms. "Vezael, Rh'aen, Rh'ael. Those boys—and I say the term 'boys' loosely because they're really teenagers who should know better—they're awful. They used to pick on Jørn all the time. They're the ones who broke his arm. Remember how Dr. Voris had to do surgery to fix it when you first got here?"

Dagny heard her, but she wasn't really paying attention. All she could think of was Maera and Malen. "You mean Rhaev's kids?"

"I think so," Ann frowned. "I don't know who Vezael's parents are, but I think he's actually the ringleader of the little group, according to Jørn and Frøya."

"Please don't say anything," Andy groaned. "If I don't cause any trouble, they'll give up eventually."

"Well, that's about all I can do for you then, Dagny said, patting him on the shoulder and thinking she would like to go have a long talk with Rhaev. "That shot I gave you should help keep the bruising and swelling down."

"Thank you, Mrs. Voris," he said, sliding off the table.

"Oh, no," she blurted. "I'm just Dagny."

"Mother says it's rude to call adults by their first names."

"Oh, uh, well, my last name is actually Skjeggestad."

"Oh," he said thoughtfully. "Then why isn't Dr. Voris called Dr. Skjeggestad?"

"Because that's not his last name," Dagny replied, hating the fact that she was blushing almost as much as the fact that even a nine year-old seemed to be under the impression she and Voris were married. "His last name is, well, it's very hard to pronounce, so he prefers people to call him Dr. Voris."

"Oh, I see."

"Hey Andy, why don't you stick to the main tunnels, yeah?" Ann added as he headed for the door.

"Yes, Mrs. Svendsen."

"And you're always welcome to come by," she called after him. "Jørn could always use a few more friends."

The door closed behind him, giving Dagny the impression that he'd probably heard her offer but figured he could safely ignore it.

"It's good to see you, Ann," Dagny smiled. "It feels like it's been forever."

"It has been a few weeks," Ann replied, offering her a hug. "And you look bigger than the last time I saw you, that's for sure. How's the baby?"

"Growing. Kicking up a storm when I'm trying to sleep. Making me incredibly emotional."

"Pregnancy hormones are no picnic."

"It's worse than that," Dagny sighed, slumping down onto a stool and scratching at her forearms. "Vulcans are telepathic, so whatever I feel, the baby feels, and it just ends up making my emotions so much worse. I cry at the drop of a hat. I laugh for no reason sometimes. I yell at Voris for the stupidest things."

"That doesn't sound like any fun," Ann murmured.

Dagny wanted to burst into tears at the mere thought of yelling at Voris. "I hate being this way."

"There's got to be something Dr. Voris can do, surely, and- Dagny, why are you scratching yourself?"

Dagny descended into tears as she choked out a very detailed yet very incoherent account of her life since the outbreak, explaining about Harold's death and the mood stabilizers along with her frustrations about being cooped up in the clinic and everything that had happened with Maera and Malen.

"I know things have been really tough for you," Ann sighed, pulling her into another hug. "And I feel awful for not coming to visit more."

"You have your own life and your own family," Dagny hiccupped. "I don't expect everyone to take time out of their day to come keep me company."

"What if I started coming by in the afternoons? I used to be away on the Oglethorpe half the year, but we're not trading for the next eleven months and there's only so much I can do in the greenhouses—too many hands and not enough work."

"You would do that?" Dagny whispered, feeling emotional to the point of crying all over again.

Even Ann started to get misty-eyed. "I have a confession to make. I've been avoiding you, kind of accidentally on purpose. I feel so guilty looking at you, thinking how I still have my family."

Ann started to cry, which sent Dagny over the edge, and soon, they were crying to the point of complete ugliness. Dagny started overheating and invited Ann upstairs for a cold glass of water and after about ten minutes, they were composed enough to speak again.

"Uh, the reason I came by today was because I found a bunch of baby clothes. I've been going crazy with all this free time on my hands and cleaning a bunch of things out. I didn't know if you had started collecting things for the little one yet."

"I have a few sets of clothes and some diapers that Aisla gave me," Dagny admitted. "But I think Voris and I are still in some intermediate stage of denial about the fact that we're going to have a baby in three months. We don't have a crib or a carrier or anything like that."

"You still have time," Ann smiled. "Maybe we could have a baby shower for you."

"Oh, I don't know about all that."

"Planned or not, this baby is coming and he or she is going to need things. Every baby deserves to have at least one good fuss made over them."

"You're going to make me cry again," Dagny mused, pulling a small blue onesie from the top of the pile inside Ann's bag.

"Well, there's something else. I found something a little while ago, in one of Britta's trunks. I have no idea how it got there, but I found a memory album. I got Nicolas to copy it for me. There's a bunch of stuff—a lot of it is my family, but there's a lot of other people from the Albret. For whatever reason there's an hour or so of footage of Anders Eriksen's twentieth birthday party. Things like that. Just a slice of life."

Dagny's blood ran cold and her hands started to shake.

"I know you don't have anything left from the Albret. I mean, there are identification photos in the databases, but I thought you'd like to have actual recorded memories of happy times. I thought maybe your son or daughter might like to see what their grandparents and aunts and uncles were like."

"Yeah," Dagny whispered. "That would be nice."

"I know you're especially emotional right now, so if you want, I can hold onto it for a while…"

"No, I'd like to look at it."

"You're sure?"

"Not really, but yes, if that makes sense?"

They stood at the small table in the kitchen without speaking. It was taking Dagny such enormous effort to keep her tears in check that she barely noticed.

"I can't tell if you'd rather be alone or if you're glad I'm here," Ann finally said.

"Both, probably."

"I can leave. I meant what I said, about coming by to visit in the afternoons."

"That would be really nice," Dagny replied, her voice shaking.

Ann gave her another long hug and left her alone with the baby clothes and the PADD-like memory album. Dagny took her time sorting through the soft and well-worn items, occasionally finding things that looked familiar. There was a blue and white striped set of flannel pajamas that she was almost certain had been Johan's at some point.

Even under ordinary circumstances, it would have been impossible not to feel emotional about yet another link to her past Ann had brought her. She'd never worked up the courage to take her mother's pineapple print maternity dress out of the trunk from under her bed and wear it.

Eventually she sat down and traced her fingers over the memory album, desperate to see the faces of all the people she'd lost but terrified of how she would react. She knew this was a bad idea in her present condition, but it didn't take long for loneliness and curiosity to win out over prudence.

She flipped the top back and was greeted by an artful wheel of thumbnail images, most of which appeared to belong to the Svendsens. She made a mental note to take slow breaths and opened a file that turned out to be Jon, Ann's husband, holding their youngest daughter Frøya's hands as she learned how to walk in one of the cargo holds.

Dagny smiled and clapped a hand over her mouth. According to the stardate, this had been about ten years ago, well before the Battle of Vulcan and the subsequent upgrades to the ship, but everything looked so familiar. Even seeing the Albret as it had been ten years ago was making her emotional.

Then the scene shifted in a direction she hadn't been expecting. There was a voice, squeaking yet familiar, calling to Jon from outside the frame. Then the camera angle shifted and she was confronted with a very gangly, very awkward, thirteen year-old version of her oldest brother Aksel. He was grinning his usual crooked smile and then he said, "She's getting so big."

"No time for babies, we've got work to do," called another familiar voice, then Arvid, the ship's engineer, appeared and slapped Aksel on the shoulder. "Back to scrubbing those injectors."

The sound faded in Dagny's ears and all she heard was blood rushing through her head. It was the weirdest sensation and she felt like she was going to burst. It was like all of her emotions had fired at the same time and were beginning to short-circuit her brain.

The noise she eventually managed to emit probably sounded like something between a scream and a squeal, but it didn't really sound human. She repeatedly slammed her fist on the table and out of nowhere came physical pain and blood, but she was powerless to stop.

Voris was incredibly anxious and he had a sense it had something to do with Dagny. He needed to get home, and he needed to get home quickly.

As it had turned out, Ael, the Andorian girl, had judged her mother's need for medical attention wisely. The woman had a common Andorian degenerative disease that was destroying her cartilage and it had progressed to the point of collapsing her airways. It would be easily treatable with gene therapy, but she would need to come to the clinic for several rounds of it, and it had been a fight to convince her that she could either come to the clinic or she could die.

After leaving Ael and her mother, he'd come across several more Andorian colonists complaining of one minor problem after another—arthritis, diarrhea, a particularly nasty case of bunions—and though he'd urged them all to visit him at the clinic, they'd all refused, citing the fact that he was already here and they didn't like going down into the mines.

According to the thermometer, the weather was technically getting warmer, but it was still winter and the sun was fading, and the brutal winds showed him no mercy. He pulled the collar of the Andorian fleece coat he'd gotten from Adelaide up around his neck and pushed through the hostile climate.

Seeing a group of people coming down the main street of the small Andorian village and fearing he might be conscripted into yet another unscheduled house call, he darted between two shelters and emerged in what looked like an alley flanked by a high snow bank. He had barely gone five meters when he saw a door spring open up ahead and a muscular Andorian man emerge.

"Hello, doctor."

"Hello," he replied briskly, trying to avoid getting caught in conversation. Unfortunately, the Andorian stranger wasn't willing to give up so easily.

"It's a bit cold out here for a Vulcan to be prowling around, is it not?"

"It is," he agreed. "I am on my way back to the clinic."

"Well, since you're here, could I ask- I have- I have a problem."

"Is it an emergency?"

"It is to me."

"Are you in immediate danger of losing life, limb, or a major sensory process such as hearing or eyesight?"

The man shut the door behind him and looked around. "It's about… things relating to men. Those parts."

"Your genitals," Voris stated matter-of-factly.

The man's antennae twitched. "Ah, yes."

"Come by the clinic tomorrow and-"

"No, you don't understand. I- I- I can't-"

"You can't what? Come by the clinic?"

"No, I'm not able to… you know…"

"No, I do not, unless you tell me. You're unable to urinate? Experience sexual arousal?"

The man winced. "Either of those things. It's… swollen."

Voris sighed, trying to subdue his growing anxiety and irritation. He needed to get home, but if what this man said was true, he was facing a legitimate medical emergency. "Will you accompany me back to the clinic?"

"I have work right now and I can't leave."

"It is your health," Voris replied. "Decide what is important to you."

"Can't you just come in the back room and take a quick look? If I have to, I can come by tomorrow morning but please don't tell anyone."

"I would never discuss a patient's private medical concerns with anyone else," Voris replied, shifting his medical bag to his other hand. "Where is this back room?"

The man leaned against the door he'd just emerged from and escorted Voris into a dark space that smelled of stale spices, sweat, and dirty linens. He heard moaning suggestive of sexual intercourse coming from the room immediately to the right and saw a woman wearing barely any clothing coming up the narrow hallway. "Another customer, Shurnel?"

"No. The doctor."

"Why didn't you say the doctor was coming?"

"I had not planned to," Voris explained, trying to avert his eyes away from her large breasts, which were threatening to spring from the small bit of cloth she had wrapped artfully around them.

The moans from the other room progressed into screams that culminated in strange gurgling sounds. The woman smiled and said, "I'll tend to your needs, if you like. My rates are reasonable."

"My needs?" Voris replied, the reality of his current situation slowly dawning on him.

"Yes, unless of course you prefer boys."

"I- I- I- is this- this- this is a brothel?"

"You're a clever one," she smiled. "So what'll it be? Me or Shurnel?" She nodded to the Andorian man who had flagged Voris down.

"I am not here to patronize this establishment," he said quickly, straightening his back.

"Go away, Soneil," Shurnel moaned. "Like he says, he's here as a doctor, not as a customer."

"Is someone sick?" she teased.

"It's none of your business," he answered, turning and adding, "It's this way, doctor."

Voris followed him into a side room that had a single bed in the corner and an odd assortment of objects, some of which had obvious functions, like the whips and vibrators, and others which did not. Try though he might, there was nowhere safe to rest his eyes.

"Will you kindly remove your trousers?" Voris asked.

"I know this is strictly medical, but I never thought I'd have a Vulcan asking me that," Shurnel said with a weak laugh.

"There is no need for levity."

Shurnel started unfastening his belt and nodded. "I can only imagine what you must be thinking."

"I am thinking I was unaware there was a brothel on Bergeron colony."

"Everything is kept in order. Everyone's the right age, everyone consents, no one causes trouble. We do a lot of trading."

"And how do you contend with things like sexually transmitted infections and unintended reproduction?"

"We've never had any problems," Shurnel said. "It's a small community. I have six regular customers, plus only about ten others that I see now and then."

"Nevertheless, brothels have always posed unique challenges to public health. You have asked me to come here because you are experiencing a medical issue that might be related to your profession."

"True enough," Shurnel replied, dropped his pants to the floor. Despite decades of medical training, it took a considerable amount of discipline to keep from recoiling in horror. As it turned out, his patient did not have a sexually transmitted disease but instead had several blocked reproductive glands which had caused extensive swelling and discoloration to his genitals.

After administering a hypospray to alleviate the swelling and advising him to come to the clinic in the morning for more comprehensive care, Voris accepted a small bottle of Andorian ale as payment and excused himself. He had never tried the curious blue drink and had tried to refuse, but Shurnel had insisted and it would have been rude to continue to refuse and he was in a hurry to get home.

It took some effort to avoid sprinting out of the building, and he decided to leave by the back way to avoid being spotted. The last thing he needed were rumors about him frequenting an Andorian brothel.

Despite his best efforts to leave the establishment unseen, his timing was horrendous, and he literally ran into Mike Yates, who was exiting a room on the left. The two men stared at each other for several seconds, then made a show of pretending not to notice or care that they had encountered each other in such a place.

Unfortunately, they were heading in a similar direction and ended up walking side by side all the way back to the tunnels. The only small mercy in the entire charade was that Mike Yates wasn't a man for small talk.

The anxiety was swirling around him faster now and once he reached the bottom of the stairs, it felt positively manic. He split off from Mike Yates without even a gesture of goodbye and entered the clinic, finding it still open. Dagny was nowhere in sight.

"Dagny?"

He heard a guttural scream from upstairs and when he found her, she was smashing her fists on the table and had scratched her arms into a bloody pulp. "Dagny, stop."

She picked up a black object the size of a PADD and hurled it at the wall with surprisingly force, missing him by less than half a meter. Now that he could properly see her face, it took effort to subdue his fear at what he saw in her eyes. She screamed again and without a second thought, he covered the distance between them in four long strides and wrapped his fingers around her cheeks and jaw so tightly he feared he would leave bruises.

He initially missed the necessary contact points and as he tried to slip his hands into place to meld with her, she made feeble efforts to push him away and slapped him in the face, but she was too disoriented to put up any significant resistance. A moment later, their minds connected and the shock of the full force of her emotions nearly caused him to black out.

She slumped against him and sobbed and he slowly sank down onto the floor with her, careful to avoid breaking the meld. Vivid scenes flashed through her mind and into his and he saw faces of people he did not know, but based on the intense feelings they were creating within Dagny, he supposed they were her family.

For approximately ten minutes, he focused with all his might on centering himself and steadying Dagny's chaotic feelings, trying to ignore the finer points of her memories and focusing instead on her emotional centers. When she had finally calmed down enough to stop crying, he leaned his back against one of the table legs and she instinctively followed his movements, resting her body against his.

What transpired between them for the next hour wasn't a conversation, but a sharing of sentiment as Voris maintained the meld between them. They didn't need to consciously think to understand one another; it came naturally. He didn't need to express his regret for melding with her without her consent, and she didn't need to apologize for the violent outburst. Each knew how the other felt, and it was enough that they could both appreciate that none of this was Dagny's fault and had he not intervened, she could have caused significant harm to herself.

It appeared she had already broken her knuckles by punching the table and her arms were splattered with angry, self-inflicted gashes. It upset him that he could have allowed her to get to a point that she would hurt herself in this way, and it upset her that she hadn't recognized the scope of her emotional turmoil until now.

As the minutes ticked by, he sensed a subtle shift in her mental patterns. Her body slackened and her breathing grew slower. She was falling asleep with her forehead propped against his chest. His position on the floor was growing physically uncomfortable, but he waited until he was confident she was asleep to break their meld.

The first thing he did was reach for her mangled hands to make an assessment. She flinched. It would be better to repair them while she slept, but he decided to sit with her for a while longer. He gently stroked her cheek and wondered how many more incidents like this there would be for the duration of her pregnancy and not for the first time, he found himself ashamed that he had done this to her.

Eventually he felt compelled to carry her to bed. He removed her shoes and checked her temperature, then brought his medical kit upstairs to mend her injuries. Though part of him wanted to watch over her for a time, he felt as though he had violated her privacy enough, so he closed the curtain around her bed and set about cleaning up their quarters.

There was a stack of infant clothing on the table and something compelled Voris to pick up a blue and white striped shirt. It was so small and it seemed odd to think that in three months he would be responsible for a person small enough to wear this tiny garment.

He neatly folded the clothing and put it back in the bag, sensing it would be better to entrust its storage and maintenance to Dagny. He picked up the pieces of the broken PADD, which had been damaged beyond repair. He removed the chip from the bottom and stored it in an appropriate case in one of the trunks under his bed, then he retired to bed himself.

When he awoke the next morning, he was startled to find Dagny had crawled in beside him at some point in the night and had nestled her face on his chest underneath his left hand. He woke her as gently as he could, but unlike the previous occasion when she'd fallen asleep next to him, there was no embarrassment.

That evening, she asked him to meld with her again to help her manage her emotions and he readily consented. They said nothing to each other, but nothing needed to be said. They again went to sleep in their separate beds, only to wake and discover Dagny had wandered from her bed in the night to join him a second time. Their unspoken ritual of Voris melding with Dagny and Dagny sleep-walking her way into his bed happened the following night too, and the night after that.

After a week, Voris decided he'd had enough. He'd changed into a nightshirt and when Dagny emerged from the bathroom and proceeded to her bed, he stopped her and gestured to his own side of the room. "Perhaps your rest period would be more efficient if you simply resigned yourself to falling asleep in the location in which you are likely to wake up."

She bit her lip and a brilliant red color streaked across her cheeks, but she nodded and tucked herself into the small bed with him. They lie awake for a short time and he paid attention to the rhythm of her breathing, but their nightly mind melds had made him so attuned to her that he knew she was wide awake.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No," she said quickly. "Good night, Voris."

"Sleep well, Dagny."