((ADDENDUM: I changed the last name of the CMO of the space station to Rasul. I don't normally do that, never have before, but in this case I had a good enough reason to do it.

The chapter heading is one of the (regrettably) few Italian Lacuna Coil songs. And it fits this chapter in two ways, in relation to two people. The English words for one, the Italian words for another. Do with that information what you will.))

The invitation to the officers' mess was somewhat unforeseen. So far, they had been denied access to the staff- and common rooms of the command personnel. Spock could only assume it meant that he had, in some way, impressed Bligh. Ten minutes before he had to be there, Spock stepped out into the corridor to find a slightly flustered Jim Kirk, torn between hurrying and knocking at his door. 'Ah, I didn't know if you got one too.'

'If you refer to an invitation from Commodore Bligh, the answer is yes.' He started walking towards the officers' mess at a brisk pace, Jim falling into step beside him.

'Good. Any idea what this is about?'

'I know no more than you do, Jim.' The entrance still didn't open to them, it seemed. T'Kray and Leonard were already waiting.

'Now what do you think this is about?' the doctor asked after a few seconds.

'I prefer not to speculate at this point.' Leonard rolled his eyes. Rather than inquiring further, he decided to knock the door to the officers' mess. As if on clue, it slid open, revealing Irina Melczuk.

'Come in.' The interior of the room was very aesthetic. A large cymbidium with silken white flowers stood next to the bar, smaller orchids of various kinds were on the tables, and a purple vanda with yellow specks was suspended on the ceiling in the exact centre.

'An interesting choice of decoration, and one that demands much attention.' Melczuk nodded.

'A tribute to the planet below, if you will. Do you like my style?'

'Indeed.'

'Please have a seat, there is something we must discuss. At the same time, Victor is having a similar conversation with the Caitians. The difference is that they can choose.' She clapped her hands together and rubbed them. 'Well. You've all shown responsibility, knowledge of your areas of study, and efficiency. This means, we can take the next step with you.'

'We have not finished the tasks given to us.' Melczuk grinned at Spock. He was not certain why.

'That's because you were given monstrous tasks no-one expected you to finish any time soon. Maybe you can merely lay the foundation for a solution. Anyway, the next thing we need to observe is how well you work in a team. Given your history, Victor and I have agreed to pay special attention to how you work together. Not because we doubt you, but because despite Fleet Admiral Williams's resentment towards your coming here, we are more than content with your work so far. I assume you will want to be on a ship with the others?' The last question was clearly directed at Jim.

'Well, of course I do.' He smiled, his expression flickering towards Spock, a wave of warmth spreading over the mental link between them that was now rooted so firmly within both of them they would be able to communicate without words or touch entirely if Jim were a Vulcan. 'We all want that. I appreciate your support.' Melczuk nodded, and her expression changed to something more businesslike.

'According to your files, none of you have served on a space station for any significant amount of time. Is that correct?'

'It is,' Leonard answered.

'Well, then I assume none of you have experience with STC.'

'Come again?' T'Kray asked.

'Space traffic control,' Spock supplied. 'A rather obsolete practice.'

'Except computer systems sometimes fail, and here, they seem especially prone to do so.' Jim nodded slowly.

'Of course. If a ship needs to dock at the station, and we cannot guide them, they must fly in manually. And if we cannot guide them because of a major problem, we have to take care nothing goes wrong and instruct them. Verbally, step by step. A very responsible, painstaking process, and a true challenge. I assume the computer has a program to practice with.' Melczuk pursed her lips.

'Not quite. All ranks above ensigns have to work first with one of us who is experienced, then with others of similar skill. Once a day, one of the consoles we use to monitor the system is switched to manual mode for a few hours. You give instructions, but the computer guidance still works and is ready to intercept a ship before it collides with another one or the space station. So you will work with the real thing, but no lives depend on your accuracy.' Melczuk rose. 'Follow me to the control section, more commonly known as the tower.' Leonard huffed.

'I've had enough towers to last me a lifetime. I'll stick with control section.'

ϡ

It was his knowledge of history that told him why this place was called a tower. In the twentieth and twenty first century, when people had travelled in planes, air traffic control had been run in towers – at least where landing and departure was concerned. Area control was usually in a different place entirely. Anyway, the thing that history remembered about air traffic control was a tower with people working in shifts, and in a way, this wasn't dissimilar. The main difference was that an exercise such as this was very much superfluous. It was what Bones would call a vigilance test, mostly.

This tower had five computer terminals, one for each dock. As it was done in the days of air traffic control, two people manned each terminal. Four eyes saw more than two, only that now all they had to do was check if the system was operative. It was a relaxing kind of work now, even though it had been one of the most stressful jobs back in the day.

Jim spotted Kresar and Commodore Bligh at one terminal and approached with a smile. 'So you volunteer for this?' The Caitian kept his eyes on the terminal.

'Seems interesting, don't you think?'

'If I'm honest, I'd rather get that transporter fixed,' Jim admitted. Now he noticed that Kresar was wearing an actual uniform. 'How do you get to wear that?' Now Kresar did look at him and grinned.

'For starters, I've got to convince Bligh, not Melczuk. Also, maybe I'm just that good.' Jim wasn't going to do Kresar the favour to be provoked.

'Maybe,' he said calmly. He walked a few steps away.

'That is precisely what I meant,' Spock said calmly. 'His personality seems slightly pugnacious, but recently I noticed an increase in open aggressiveness.'

'Might I have your attention?' Melczuk called. They all looked at her standing at another console. 'Thanks. On the terminals you see the coordinates of approaching and receding vessels and whatever their respective computers communicate to us.' Melczuk folded her arms. 'As you are probably aware, this is a very responsible task. I therefore require a psychological evaluation for Kresar. All others, Mamad said, are done.'

'Correct. Will you require the results?' Melczuk tutted.

'No, I've got nothing to do with them. Give them to Victor.'

'Victor will read them, fail to understand a word, and move on,' Commodore Bligh said. T'Kray offered a smile.

'Understood. I shall keep the technical jargon at a minimum.' Bligh nodded.

'I appreciate it. Now go to one terminal each and watch. You will then, in turns, work them manually. An actual shift is eight hours long with a break every two hours. Today will be different of course. This isn't the real thing. If you should be interested in taking actual shifts after the few obligatory days you do this, do approach me.'

ϡ

T'Kray had brought Kresar to sickbay for testing directly after their first few hours in the tower. Now her eyes skimmed over the results the computer had provided. None of them were surprising. She looked over the screen at Kresar. 'What do you believe I am going to tell you?'

'That I am fit for duty.' T'Kray took a second before she answered.

'I am uncertain. I shall monitor you for the next four weeks. You will report to me every first and fourth day of a week for further testing.' She lowered her gaze to the screen. 'I have the results from Doctor McCoy as well. Your heart beat is slightly irregular, your digestion too slow, and you show signs of exhaustion. From what I gathered in the tests you had trouble sleeping due to rumination, …'

'Where do you get that from?' T'Kray crossed her arms and looked at Kresar.

'It is my job to find these things out in the tests. Are you saying my conclusion was wrong?' The Caitian hesitated for a moment.

'No,' he said then.

'Good. Your vigilance or attention could also be better, frustration tolerance is very low. Is there anything else you wish to tell me? You were not overly cooperative in this, and you were no more helpful during Doctor McCoy's examination.' She leaned forwards slightly. 'Talk to us. We cannot help if you don't.' She had no idea how often she had said that or something very similar lately. Those under pressure were very eager to remain silent, for some reason.

'No. Nothing I want to tell you.' There was a note of animosity in Kresar's voice. This, too, seemed to fit into a pattern.' I haven't any idea why I have to put up with this, I haven't done anything.'

'Physical and psychological examination is routine procedure in Starfleet,' she explained patiently. 'Everyone has to put up with it, Doctor McCoy and I are no exceptions. Apart from regular testing, whenever there is reasonable doubt of your health, we have not only the right, but the duty to do something about that.'

'Doctors always hide behind duty, all they ever want is to find out as much about you as they can. Then you log it somewhere, and if I say something, you whip out a report and use it against me.' Making a mental note to add paranoia to the list of symptoms, T'Kray shook her head.

'Scepticism can be a good thing, but I assure you that yours is misplaced. No one outside sickbay will see the precise evaluation. Commodore Bligh will receive a report stating you are fit for duty but under observation. I have to tell him that, and I will. You are dismissed, Kresar. I think you are needed in the science station for the rest of the day.'

ϡ

Kresar's frustration was, to a degree, understandable. Mostly, he and Spock had come to the same conclusions about the plant specimens, and wherever they had, Commodore Bligh was not challenging their results overly much. In the few – three, so far – cases they disagreed, he had run tests of his own, had listened to both their arguments, and had always sided with Spock. Now, they had the fourth case.

Kresar's claim it was a natural hybrid made sense. It was something that could be found out easily enough, and the Commodore had left to run the necessary tests. In the meantime, Kresar was glaring daggers at the plant.

'It's clear what he'll say,' the Caitian muttered finally. 'That you're right, that I'm wrong, but that I made a good effort.'

'I doubt it.' Spock answered. 'In the previous cases I was correct, in this one, I believe that you are.'

'Oh don't give me your nonsense. It doesn't suit a Vulcan to soft-soap someone.' The Caitian's eyes narrowed. 'Or is that wording beyond you?'

'I am familiar with the phrase.' Kresar rose to his feet and glared down at the seated Vulcan.

'Is there a problem, gentlemen?' Bligh asked. He stood in the door with his arms folded. Kresar rounded on him.

'Say it. Say it how your perfect boy here has nailed it while I am a failure.'

'Actually, I was going to say that you were right, it is a hybrid.'

'Liar! You only try to soothe me into trusting you. You'll take the first chance to see me executed!'

'There is no death sentence in the Federation,' Spock pointed out. It was high time some sense was brought back into this exchange, but whatever was going on in Kresar's mind, he was not finished. He did not even listen.

'You'll just shoot me like cattle. I'll vanish like those scientists on the planet. But I won't let you!' The Caitian grabbed one of the plants and flung it at Bligh. Spock, on his feet by now, saw his next move coming, noticed him tense for a jump, and vaulted over to table into his way to anticipate him. He knocked several plants to the floor in the process, but at this moment that was not his concern. Before Kresar could attack Bligh, Spock's fingers dug into the Caitian's shoulders, making him sink to the floor. The Commodore stared at the limp figure.

'What on earth got into him?' Spock pursed his lips.

'I do not know.' Shaking off his moment of incomprehension, Spock looked straight at Bligh. 'Request permission to bring Kresar to sickbay for examination.' Bligh sighed.

'Knock yourself out.'

ϡ

Kresar, strapped to the biobed, was a pitiful sight. It was, however, necessary. He had been screaming and thrashing at the top of his lungs until Mamad Rasul was done with his examination. After that, Rasul had dragged Leonard and T'Kray into the next room. 'Well?' was all he asked, and at least T'Kray wasn't certain if they could offer a satisfactory answer. Leonard raised his hands.

'I scanned him, but I couldn't possibly see this coming.'

'Me neither,' T'Kray said quickly.

'He has what I think is a strong allergic reaction,' Rasul said. 'I suggest when he calms down we inform him he will not continue with his plants.' McCoy frowned slightly.

'According to Spock, Kresar was scared out of his wits when he attacked, believed they were going to kill him. That doesn't sound like an allergy, it sounds like a psychosis.' A scream came from the next room and they darted back. Kresar was struggling against the restraints, his eyes darting between them at dizzying speed. T'Kray approached him, talking in what she hoped was a soothing tone.

'Calm yourself, Kresar. We are trying to help you.'

'No! Just let me go … I'll do all you say. I'll do the monitoring in the tower, all day.' She shook her head.

'I am sorry, but you cannot do that right now.' She turned to look at the two medics behind her. 'Even if there is no need for the monitoring, I cannot permit that he is given so much responsibility when he is clearly unhinged.'

'I'm not unhinged. I've calmed down again.' He sounded calm, but his eyes were still frantically searching them and the room.

'We shall judge that in time. Now you will rest.' Only now, realising he was not going to be released, Kresar stopped trying to wriggle out of the restraints.

'Can I at least have some water?' Leonard nodded.

'At once.' He walked over to the replicator and returned with a full glass. He exchanged a glance with T'Kray, who answered with a tiny nod. Leonard released the strap holding the Caitian's left arm. If he tried anything, it was up to her to stop him. Being a Caitian, he would be too fast for the two humans, but not for her.

T'Kray had honestly expected him to drink the water. If she had given it any thought, she would also have wondered if he might throw the glass, including its contents, at them. What she hadn't expected was that he would pour the water over his own head.

'More,' Kresar rasped. When there was no reaction, he threw the glass to the floor. 'More! I need water, don't you get it? I need more!' Shaking his head, Rasul gave the poor creature a hypo full of sleep.

'What the hell is going on with him?' he asked loudly.

'Psychosis,' T'Kray said simply. 'We have to find out what exactly it is, but that I am sure of.' Rasul glared at them.

'Sort him out, then.' He left cursing in an incomprehensible tongue. T'Kray wrinkled her nose.

'Can we get out? The plant smell brought here from the science station is rather pungent.' Leonard frowned.

'I don't smell anything.'

'Vulcans …' He waved her away, leading the way to his office.

'I know. Females especially.' T'Kray followed him.

'Do you believe an allergy can trigger such a strong psychosis?' Leonard shrugged.

'We'll find out. You know what I wonder? How a Vulcan female can stand being in a small secluded room with me after a rather long exhausting day.'

'I do not find your individual scent unpleasant, Leonard. Especially compared to that of one of the plants.' He smiled, but only for a moment.

'There's something I need to ask you.' He locked the door behind them before facing her, obviously steeling himself. 'You have never tested me. You handed in a report based on … what?'

'On my knowledge of you from the mental contact we had on Dainam.'

'Not enough, too long ago.' She sighed.

'I am not going to let you fill in tests for three hours, evaluate them for six, and end up with something I already know.' Leonard swallowed.

'No.' When he took hold of her hand it was so unexpected she nearly jumped. There was a mix of emotions, none too ordered, among them anxiety and anticipation. Bright blue eyes captivated her gaze as he brought her hand up to his face. 'There's a faster way.'

'Len …' She let her hand hover, not allowing herself to touch. 'That … are you certain?'

'For this you don't have to go into a full meld. Small steps, right?' He smiled. 'Let me prove that I trust you. And you can be certain I'm not going to end up like Kresar any time soon. I have to … I have to get over myself, T'Kray. I promised you.'

((If you haven't read Air, the last bit of exchange won't make much sense. In that case I will, for once, offer an outtime explanation, albeit an oversimplified one: I figure that McCoy would, given his history, have a serious problem with mind melds. I also figure that would be a problem for T'Kray. So there's that.))