CHAPTER 8

Trip and Travis went back to the launch bay after lunch to continue working on the Wayfarer's Rest. Malcolm went off to calibrate a scanner to detect changes in EM fields that they hoped would give them some tangible proof there was something on board Enterprise, ghostly or otherwise. Hoshi, the only one of the four officers working a regular duty shift that day, returned to the bridge.

She found that personal communications had arrived in a transmission packet from Starfleet while she'd been at lunch. Mail always perked up the crew, and delivering the letters to the recipients was a duty that she was happy to perform. She began downloading the letters to individual data chips for distribution. About halfway through, she saw that there was a letter for her from her mother.

She loved receiving letters. The slight tinge of homesickness they made her feel was far outweighed by the comfort of hearing from home. But her happy smile faded as she read the letter. One of her brothers, Hikori, had been seriously injured in a hovercar accident. He was in intensive care at a hospital, his prognosis uncertain. The date on the letter was more than a week old. Her mind shied away from the possibility that Hikori could be dead by now. The words on the screen blurred. Hoshi blinked rapidly, trying to clear her eyes of the tears that threatened to spill.

Hikori. He was her favorite brother. Younger than her by two years, he'd always been the brash one, getting into scrapes but then getting out of them with his good-natured charm and easy smile. He was a lovable rake, so different from rest of the staid Sato family. As they'd grown up, it had seemed like Hoshi was always being dragged into Hikori's little escapades. The time they'd ripped up all their mother's freshly planted flowers and dumped buckets of sand in their place in an attempt to make a contemplative garden immediately came to mind. But the simple childishness of their little adventures had been a welcome reprieve from Hoshi's rigidly structured days of classes, practice sessions, and extra tutoring once her language talents had become apparent.

Of all her siblings, Hikori had been the one who'd been the most excited about her posting to Enterprise. He'd also been the only one she could tell about her doubts, knowing that he'd provide a sympathetic ear and not offer unsolicited advice. So of course she had asked his advice for that very reason. Without his encouragement, she didn't know if she would have joined Starfleet, and she knew he was proud of her accomplishments once she had.

Hoshi took the data chip with her letter from the slot and pocketed it, then hurriedly finished downloading the rest of the letters. She needed to calm down. There wasn't anything she could do for Hikori, and worrying wouldn't do him, or her, any good.

The captain's ready room was her first delivery stop when all the downloads were complete. Jon was working at his desk when she entered. She'd hoped to turn over his letters and make a quick exit, but he took one look at her face and asked, "What's wrong, Hoshi?"

Hoshi let out a broken sob, a single tear streaking down her face. She managed to get out the news about her brother.

Jon had gotten to his feet while she was talking, and when she finished, he reached out and grasped her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Hoshi," he said softly with a reassuring squeeze of his fingers before he let go. "I'll send a message to Starfleet and ask them to check on Hikori's condition and get back to us on a high-priority channel."

Hoshi smiled gratefully and wiped her cheek. "Thank you, sir. I'm sorry about this," she mumbled with a gesture toward her face.

"Don't worry about it. It was a shock to hear about your brother, I'm sure." He indicated the tote bag with the data chips. "I'll get someone else to take care of this. You take the rest of the day off."

Hoshi opened her mouth to protest but stopped. She seriously doubted she'd be able to concentrate on her duties, at least until she got her emotions under control. "Thank you, sir." She handed over the bag and headed for the door.

"Hoshi?" Jon called after her. When she turned around, he asked, "This wouldn't have anything to do with that little project Malcolm was helping you with earlier?"

Hoshi felt a genuine smile break through her sadness. "No, sir. Not even close."

She turned and exited the ready room, her mood growing somber again. The ghost of Robert Watson really didn't seem important now that she had Hikori to worry about. She made it across the bridge and into the turbolift before another tear trickled down her cheek. The short ride to C deck where her cabin was located didn't allow her time to compose herself, and she didn't want anyone else to see her so upset. Jon had only asked her what was wrong, and she'd practically broken down in front of him; she couldn't handle a lot of prying questions from well-meaning friends right now. She wanted to be alone, but people were bound to stop by her cabin once word got out about her brother. Before the turbolift door could open, she entered a new destination on the control panel. The best place she could think of was the observation lounge on F deck.

"Travis! Quit gawkin' and start helpin'."

Travis grinned sheepishly. "Sorry. I keep hoping to see or hear something." He handed a screwdriver to Trip, who was taking pieces from the Wayfarer's Rest's engine and checking to see if they needed to be replaced. "Wouldn't it be great to see Robert Watson's ghost like Hoshi did?"

Trip smiled as he set down yet another engine component that was in almost perfect condition. Robert Watson had taken good care of his little ship. "I don't think Hoshi was particularly thrilled about the experience."

"I got that impression too, but I've never seen a ghost," Travis said. "What about you?"

Trip shook his head. "Can't say that I've actually seen one." He paused to cast a glance at the hatchway leading to the living quarters of the ship, then shook himself. He turned a mock frown on Travis. "Now see what you've done? You've got me distracted, worrying about ghosts. We need to be concentrating on what we're doing here, not starting a round of ghost stories."

"Sorry," Travis said. He watched Trip work for a few moments, then asked, "Do you think he's watching what we're doing?"

"Would you knock it off, Travis?" Trip said. At the helmsman's crestfallen expression, Trip added, "He might be watching us, but I seriously doubt he's going to make an appearance." He indicated the metal box on the deck by his feet. "I'm using his tools, which seemed to be the object of that little incident in the cockpit with the cabinet door bangin' open. I think he wants us to work on his ship."

Hoshi was in luck. No one was in the observation lounge when she arrived. She closed the door and locked it. Normally the room was left open, but when it was locked, it was a sign to others that the occupant or occupants did not wish to be disturbed. She stood in the center of the room with its large observation window looking out under the nacelles, and suddenly was at a loss. She'd held her emotions fairly well in check until she'd reached this refuge. Now that she was here, however, she felt numb. She walked over to the window and, putting both hands on the glass, leaned her head against it. As if by trying so hard earlier to hold them in, the tears now refused to flow. If she could just have a good cry and get it over with, she'd feel better, but it wasn't for quite some time before tears began slow, laborious slides down her cheeks.

She felt helpless, being so far from home, when her brother had gotten into the worst scrape of his life. Her crying was in part due to frustration, she realized, as there was nothing she could do to help Hikori. For all she knew, he might be dead by now. That thought only served to make her cry harder. Then, when the tears were finally exhausted, she was too. She moved over to the couch and sank down on it, staring out the window at the stars as she wished that she was home with her family.

In the dead silence of the room, she felt three soft pats on her shoulder. Someone must have been in the lounge when she'd entered and she hadn't seen them. Embarrassed that one of her fellow crewmates had seen her crying, she turned to see who it was.

But once glance behind her told her she was alone. There was no one there.

Hoshi got to her feet and cautiously backed away from the couch toward the door. She hadn't imagined someone patting her shoulder as if to comfort her. She quickly unlocked the door and let herself out.

Malcolm was leaving the armory, the newly modified scanner in his hand, when he saw Hoshi come out of the observation lounge doorway farther down the corridor and walk hurriedly in his direction.

"Hoshi?" he asked as she approached and he saw the dried tear tracks on her face. He couldn't recall ever having seen Hoshi cry. Scared, yes, but she'd always remained steady and had done whatever had needed to be done. But crying? Whatever was wrong, it must be bad. "Are you all right?"

She took a deep, ragged breath. "My brother...Hikori...I got a letter from my mother. Hikori's been badly hurt in an accident."

"I'm sorry," Malcolm said. He didn't know what to say next. He never had been very good at comforting other people, and the rebuff he'd received the time he'd tried to comfort Trip after his sister's death still stung.

Hoshi nodded in acknowledgment of his sympathy. "Thanks. But that's not what's freaking me out right now. I went to the observation lounge to be alone and...think about Hikori...and..."

"And what, Hoshi?"

"Something patted me on the shoulder," she said. In a more defiant tone, as if trying to convince him, she continued, "I was sitting there, on the couch, when all of a sudden I felt someone's hand on my shoulder. It patted me three times, like whoever it was was trying to tell me everything was going to be all right. But, Malcolm, I was alone!"

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Positive. It was three distinct taps," she said. "If it had only been one, I might think I'd imagined it. But three?"

"Good point. Come on!" he said, brushing past her.

He dashed down the corridor and into the lounge, Hoshi following in his wake. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, he activated the scanner and began taking readings.

"Anything?" Hoshi asked from where she was standing by the door.

Malcolm shook his head. He held the scanner near the comm panel, taking into account the jump in the strength of the EM field that was to be expected in close proximity to such a device. He slowly moved around the room, holding the scanner at arm's length, seeking out any EM spikes. "Travis says that paranormal entities generate their own highly charged electromagnetic field. I've adjusted this so that I'll have to be on top of anything generating an EM field to get an accurate reading. Otherwise, I'd be getting readings from anything plugged into the EPS grid system." He made a complete circuit of the room, his gaze seldom leaving the scanner's small screen. He ended up where he'd started, by the door next to Hoshi. "As far as I can tell, there's nothing here that's not supposed to be here."

Hoshi let out a gust of air. "Maybe it's because I'm calmer now. I was pretty upset earlier."

Malcolm closed the scanner. "It's understandable that you were upset about your brother," he said kindly.

Hoshi nodded. "I still am, but I think I've got it under control now. That's why I came in here in the first place. To have a quiet place to think and calm down. And then--" She shivered and ran a hand over her face.

"Look on the bright side," Malcolm told her. "You seem to attract the ghost."

"Oh, great!"

"No, really," he said. "When we start actively searching for it tonight, your presence may bring it out."

Hoshi stared at him, then sighed. "Just what I've always wanted to be -- ghost bait."