CHAPTER 6

Life is short, the art long, opportunity fleeting, experiment treacherous, judgment difficult."

- Hippocrates – Earth (Human)

MARSEILLE, FRANCE, EARTH

SEPTEMBER 2269

Wlikes and Sooth left Dr. Mantoux's office near the waterfront in Marseille, Wilkes holding her arm.

Marseille has always been and still is one of the most cosmopolitan cities in all of France. Seeing an alien, even one that looked like a five-foot cat walking arm in arm with a human attracted virtually no attention from the locals. Talking as they walked, Sooth said, "That was...uncomfortable, undignified, and...yuck. Let's just walk for a while. I don't want to go back to the hotel."

"Sure, anything you want. I'm sure it was nasty. But at least its over now, right?"

"Or hopefully just starting. And YOU had the easy part you big monkey!" she glared at him, ears swiveling back and her eyes narrowing.

"I know, Sooth. After three days of being poked, prodded, sampled, and inspected, I can only imagine how you feel right now."

"I thought medicine was supposed to be all hands-off. This felt like something from a hundred years ago."

Wilkes gave her arm a squeeze. "Dr. Mantoux is one of the only Dosadi anatomy experts on Earth, Sooth. And he's no fan of technology – except when it serves his purposes. His whole office is the biggest study in contrasts I think I've ever seen. But he's also one of the best xenogeneticists in the Federation."

"I know. I think he said 'the finest sensors ever invented are eyes, ears, nose and touch' about a dozen times. But I was going to kick him the next time he said 'well that's interesting.' while he was...working on me. I felt like something being dissected!"

"It'll be worth it right? IF it works?"

She was quiet for a while as they walked, and Wilkes was starting to fret. "What if it doesn't, Wilkes? What if it was all for nothing?"

"He said that the recombinant process went well, that at least one..."

"What if its a monster?" and she began crying.

Stopping on the sidewalk to take her into his arms, he smoothed her fur and said, "Shush. That's not possible."

"Still sobbing she said, "Its going to be horrible and you're going to leave and..."

"Holding her shoulders he made her look at him, "Sooth, that's all the goofy hormones he's pumped into you. Remember, he said no excitement for the next couple of days to make sure the zygotes can implant, right? Remember he said you were going to be all over the map emotionally but to try to keep calm? Remember?"

She sniffed, ears, tail, and whiskers all drooping and he continued, "Besides, Sooth, whatever child comes from you will be wonderful and I'll love it because it's part of you. And it will be beautiful whether it's got my green eyes and pink skin or your soft fur and tail. And I'll never leave you, Sooth. I swear it. I would die without you. I never felt so empty as when Corin was telling me what happened to you and I thought you were dead. It was the most awful feeling ever."

Nuzzling her forehead under his chin she said, "I'm sorry, Wilkes. It's almost time for dinner, can we get something to eat?"

"Sure, there's bound to be a cafe or a pub or something here somewhere. Let's just walk a bit until we find one."

Standing in the deepening shadows of a waterfront warehouse, Jons waited patiently for Robert. As he watched the sun begin to set over the breakwater, Robert came up with his typical casual attitude. But, Jons noticed, he was actually doing a fine job avoiding the public sensor nets. Perhaps, he wondered...but no, the decision had been made.

"Bon soir, mon Colonel!" Robert said cheerily as he saw the little Hydran.

"Bon soir, Robert. Standard, s'il vous plait."

"Tres bien." Robert chuckled. "Really, Colonel, we must work on your French on your next visit."

Jons smiled at him, "Were you able to fill my shopping list, Robert?"

"Of course. It's really quite easy, you know." he held up a small pouch clinking with isolinear data chips. "And you have my usual fee for acting as your concierge?"

Extending his hand, Jons held out a single shining isolinear chip to the tall Frenchman. As Robert grasped it, he turned his hand sharply and Robert exclaimed "Ouch!", drawing his hand back, sucking at a small cut on his finger.

His eyes opened wide. Struggling, he gasped out, "No! Wait!" and sagged to his knees.

Jones looked at him sadly, "I'm really quite sorry, Robert. Duty demands that we part on these terms." As the dying man struggled to stay upright he continued, "Have no fear, Robert. Arrangements have been made, your loved ones will be cared for. Duty requires no less." He continued to watch, dispassionately as Robert collapsed from a massive cerebral hemorrhage and died.

Bending down, he retrieved the little bag of chips and placed it in a small diplomatic pouch. Standing back up he thought to himself, "There, that has been discharged. Time for something to eat." Staying out of the sensor nets for the next few blocks, he decided to enter a small pub set back among the usual waterfront warehouses and the like. It had the look of a rather uncultured sort of place and that suited his mood tonight.

Finding a booth in a dim corner, he ordered the strongest coffee they had and began to peruse the menu.

Holding the door for Sooth, Wilkes looked around the dim little pub. He saw a number of French football posters and jerseys on the wall and the few patrons he saw looked large and disreputable. Glancing down at his own English Three Lions shirt, a gift from his father, he said "Um, Sooth, this might not be the best choice."

"I'm sure it's fine Wilkes." The delicious aroma of cooking meats was making her ravenous and she walked in and sat at one of the small tables in the middle of the pub. Neither of them noticed the little man sitting in the booth and for once, preoccupied with his meal, his PADD and the pouch of data chips, he failed to take much note of the two latest arrivals. Just another Dosadi and a human, certainly nothing to pay particular attention to.

As they were working through their meal, Wilkes was becoming more and more uncomfortable. The pub had been slowly filling with young roustabouts, all wearing the French tri-color in one way or another. Sports teams were one of the few vestiges of nationalism left in the Earth of the 23rd century and football was still king. Soccer hooligans were still a frequent cause of public disorder. "And here I sit in a French pub wearing English football colors. NOT smart."

Wilkes became aware that the young toughs were making more and more overt comments about him and about Sooth. So was she.

"I wonder if le chatte would like some milk?" One of them had leaned in close. Wilkes was trying to get a feel for how many of them there were and he decided about a dozen. Sooth was looking at him, ears back, eyes wide looking for cues as to what to do in this situation. On Dosad, she would simply fight them in the challenge ring, one at a time...except she was supposed to avoid any excitement for the next few days...

One of them, the real wit of the group, pointed at Wilkes' Warrior Pendant, tattoo and earring, "Mes amis! What are we doing? It is the fearsome Capitain Midnight! The space pirate from the serials! Merde!" to raucous laughter.

Speaking to Sooth Wilkes said, "We should leave. Now." Standing up he tried to put some credits on the table to cover the bill only to have The Wit grab his arm.

"But you are leaving? So soon? Non, monsieur Tommy! We will get some milk for your pussy...but wait what is this? You BOTH wear the collar?!" he poked at Wilkes' Warrior Pendant and Wilkes jerked his arm back, Two more were interfering with Sooth's attempt to stand, ignoring the deepening growls coming out of her.

"Don't." he said quietly.

The Wit exclaimed, "But which of you holds the leash?!"

Jons finally looked up from his PADD and wishing there was some way to copy the vast amount of data on the chips. The pair who had walked in earlier were being harassed by some local dimwits. Smiling to himself he thought, "Evidently these boys don't know much about the world outside of Marseille. The young man is muscled like a fighter and putting hands on a Dosadi was a fast way to lose those hands. He could see the back of the...female? And the human's face indicated he had just about reached his limit. He was surprised the Dosadi hadn't gone completely berserk by now.

Frowning, he realized that there were more than a dozen of the toughs. Not really any of his business he supposed, but that was hardly winnable odds for anyone. He simply wasn't in the mood to watch a pair of innocent tourists get beaten. Replacing the loose data rods in his pouch and pocketing his PADD he heard a hissing snarl and saw the first two of the toughs go flying as Sooth kicked back and up out of her chair at the same time Wilkes was smashing The Wit's face into the table.

Making his decision he took a small hand-stunner out of his jacket and quietly made his way over to the group that was starting to pile on the two embattled patrons. As he was crossing the floor he noted that most of the customers were evidently used to this sort of thing and did nothing more than move their chairs and beer out of the way.

Wilkes wasn't quite panicked yet. There were too many, but they were holding their own so far. But he had to stop this – Sooth shouldn't be doing anything like this, Dr. Mantoux had said to keep calm for days, not jump into a bar brawl! He needed to clear this mess fast. Fortunately, a bunch of untrained local fools weren't much of a match for a Starfleet officer and a Dosadi Marine. But numbers do tell and they were landing blows and sheer numbers were isolating him from Sooth and hemming him in.

Jons moved along the outer edges of the struggling group. A touch here, a jab there, a gentle stroke of the hand along the back of the neck with the hand stunner...

Wilkes was confused. They were running out of opponents but there was no way they had taken out that many yet. Sooth was in a blind rage, tangled up with two of them, bits of red-white-and-blue shirts and work dungarees flying off them in waves in time to her hissing, snarling, spitting curses. And then, panting, he found himself and Sooth without anyone to fight but a little violet-skinned man in a dark suit with a shock of bright white hair.

Jons held his hand up, displaying the hand-stunner and showing that he meant no threat to the still amped up young human. "I thought, perhaps, to even the odds." and he smiled. He reached his empty hand down to Sooth to help her to her feet, "A gentleman should never fight a lady any..." and he looked straight into Sooth's face. The two of them froze in a comic-opera scene and said at the same time. "YOU! But you're DEAD!"