"Hey, gang," Mariner said as she sat down in the booth. Rutherford, Tendi, and Boimler were already there. Boimler had his nose in a PADD. Mariner went on, "Are we missing a Vulcan, or am I in an alternate timeline where we don't have a T'Lyn?"

Tendi said, "She is running a little late. I was going to call her."

"Nah," Mariner said. "She's probably doing intermix calculations by hand with Sumevini. Old friend shows up out of nowhere—What could go wrong? What you got there, Boims?"

"I'm trying to identify the human I found a bust of down in the outpost."

"You could just scan it and let the computer make a match."

"Computers don't discriminate, Mariner. I'm sure I can narrow the search perimeters."

"Right, Boims, and has nothing to do with you sucking up to Ransom."

"It's not that…" He saw the look on Mariner's face. "much…No, seriously, I think I've seen that face somewhere before. I just can't pl—" He broke off as someone on the other side of Mariner caught his attention. "—wh—T'LYN!?"

Mariner followed Boimler's gaze, and it was her turn to gasp. T'Lyn had dyed her hair blonde and let it fall loose around her shoulders with no hair clip. Her uniform top still had the colors of the science division, but it was sleeveless with a low neckline that exposed almost too much of her breasts. She wore light makeup in shades of green that accentuated her skin tones.

T'Lyn was gorgeous. Mariner found it both alluring and disturbing.

T'Lyn said, "I apologize for my tardiness." Somehow, even her monotone carried a subtext of 'come hither.'

"N-no, it's fine," Mariner stammered. "That's, uh, that's a new look for you."

"I thought it was time for a change. It is an approved variation of a Starfleet uniform and consistent with standards of deorum."

"Yeah, if the ship had a strip club."

"That might make an interesting addition to the *Ceritos'* facilities," T'Lyn said as she slid into the booth next to Mariner.

Mariner caught a whiff of T'Lyn's perfume. T'Lyn had never worn perfume before. What she had on now was intoxicating. "Wow! What are you wearing?"

"It's a fragrance popular among female Deltans. Do you like it?"

"Like it? It smells great. Dayum, girl. Maybe we should take this back to my quarters."

"I'm tempted to take you up on that, Mariner. Although lesbian sex acts do not yield offspring. One must balance practicality with pleasure."

Mariner held her smile even as alert klaxons sounded in her mind. "Yeah, I guess."

8

8

Shaxs said, "Captain, a Vulcan destroyer just came out of warp. She's running with her shields up…We're being hailed."

Freeman and Ransom exchanged glances. Then Freeman said, "On screen."

A Vulcan woman, lines just beginning to show in her face and her hair tinged with gray, appeared on the screen. She was on her ship's bridge and wore the tunic of Vulcan Security.

She said, "I am Colonel T'Pring of the V'Shar. Identify yourself."

Freeman said, "I'm Captain Carol Freeman of the USS *Ceritos.*"

"What are you doing in this system, Captain Freeman?"

"We responded to a distress signal form the Vulcan frigate."

"Any survivors?"

"Not from the ship. We found a survivor from the outpost on the planet."

"Captain, that is an illegal outpost founded by a group engaged in illegal and unethical experiments. We sent the frigate to arrest them. Their last transmission indicated a battle had ensued. What is the survivor's name?"

"Sumevini."

T'Pring's eyebrows moved upward a millimeter. "He is the group's leader. You must take him into custody at once."

"Colonel, we can't arrest him until we get authorization and a warrant, but we have had him under surveillance. Once I'm sure everything is in order, we will take him into custody and turn him over to you."

"You are making a grave error, Captain, but you are correct about the letter of the law. I will see you in person soon." The screen returned to the starfield and the planet below them.

Ransom groused, "Dammit."

"Jack?" Freeman asked.

"I owe myself a slip of latinum. I hate it when Mariner is right."

Freeman chuckled. "How do you think I got these gray hairs? I'm her momma."

8

8

"Got an itch?" Mariner asked. T'Lyn was absently scratching the outsides of her forearms.

"What?" T'Lyn realized what she had been doing. She stopped scratching. "Oh. A minor complaint. No doubt pulled muscles from our Anbo-jyutusu practice."

"No doubt," Mariner said, trying to sound relaxed even though she didn't quite believe it. Too much weirdness for her not to be concerned. "So, T, is it getting to be that time of the decade?"

"You mean pon farr, Mariner? I was wondering that myself. If it is, I wonder why we shroud it in secrecy. I feel wonderful. I feel…Mariner, I feel more alive than I have ever felt." She turned away from Mariner and surveyed the bar. "The presence of so many potential husbands and fathers is quite stimulating. Consider Billups." Billups was at the corner of the bar, chatting with some fellow engineers.

"What about him?" Mariner said. "He's off the market. You know that."

"I do," T'Lyn said. "But if he wasn't, would you mate with him?"

"Well, I, I don't know," Mariner stammered. While the subject did not disturb her, talking about this with T'Lyn was alarming. "I guess, in general, there's a time and a place. But Billups himself is a no-fly zone. He's made his decision plain, and I respect it. It takes a lot of guts for him to stand up to his mom and deal with what she's put him through."

"True," T'Lyn said. "And royal bloodlines carry with them the risk of inbreeding. But he is a capable engineer and a skilled hand-to-hand combatant. His genes must be sound. He should be able to reproduce when the time comes."

"Huh, yeah, T. 'Hey, baby, you look like you have a hot DNA profile.' I don't know if anyone would use that as a pickup line."

"Have you ever tried it, Mariner?"

"Of course not!"

"Well, then, perhaps it is time for a field experiment." She left the booth and headed for Billups.

It took Mariner too many seconds to realize T'Lyn was serious. "Wh—no—T'Lyn!" By the time Mariner got to T'Lyn, the Vulcan had Billups backed up against the bar. The panic on Billups' face and the amazement on everyone else's told the whole story.

Mariner smiled as she grabbed T'Lyn by the shoulders. "Hey, someone got into that Romulan ale we confiscated. Goes to your head pretty quick. C'mon, T, let's let Billups have a nervous breakdown in peace."

Mariner hustled T'Lyn out of the bar. Around the corner from the door, she brought them to a halt.

Mariner said, "Ok, T'Lyn what is going on?" (A small crowd of bar patrons, including Billups, dribbled out of the bar and began to huddle around them.) "This isn't you!"

"It is me, Mariner. Perhaps you don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Perhaps we should take you to see the doctor." Mariner grabbed T'Lyn's elbow.

T'Lyn easily freed herself. "Perhaps you feel threatened by someone who could supplant you in the ship's social hierarchy."

"What!?"

"Don't pretend, Mariner. I was able to learn about your history on this ship. No one liked you until they 'accidentally' found out that you are the captain's daughter. Now everyone is your friend. Logically, one would covet that position and be sensitive to any threats to it."

It was still a sore spot with Mariner how her parentage had been revealed. "First, that was an accident. Boimler had a big mouth. Second, you are pushing it lady. Back off."

"Is that a threat, Mariner? You know I am your better in every way, right? What if I told you I've been letting you win all those anbo-jyutsu matches?"

"I'm telling you, T'Lyn, you do not want to go there."

"Oh, dear," T'Lyn said, not hiding her sarcasm and disdain, "I find myself sooooooo apprehensive."

"T'Lyn," Mariner warned, "I am the last person on this ship you want to throw down with."

Billups stepped forward. Though still shaken, he asserted himself: "Hey, guys, it's ok. No harm, no foul."

Tendi was at Billups' elbow. "We're all friends here, right?"

T'Lyn still had her eyes locked with Mariner, but she softened. "Of course, we are all friends."

Billups stepped forward. "Lieutenant T'Lyn, I think you should report to sickbay."

"No, commander, I am fine."

"Don't make me make it an order, Lieutenant."

"Please, Mr. Billups. I would prefer to handle it privately. Or as privately as possible under the circumstances."

Billups knew he could pull rank, but Vulcan privacy was a wall almost nothing could penetrate. "All right, fine," he said. "T'Lyn, you go back to your quarters right now. But Mariner, I want you and Tendi to check on her in an hour. And if she's any worse, you drag her to sickbay. And that's an order, ladies."

Mariner said, "No problem, sir."

They watched T'Lyn head down a corridor and round a corner. Just then, Boimler pushed through the onlookers with his PADD. "Mariner, we have to take this to the captain. Things just got weird."

"'Just got weird'?" Mariner said. "Boimler, where you have you been for the past five minutes?"

"No, Mariner, things have really got stranger. It took me a long time to identify the subject of that bust because it's the last person you would think a Vulcan would have anything to do with. That bust is of Friedrich Nietzsche."

Billups' eyebrows raised. "Nietzsche?"

Mariner accepted the PADD from Boimler. "What in the world is a Vulcan doing with-"

A scream sounded from the way T'Lyn had gone—T'Lyn's scream!

Mariner said, "T'Lyn!?" She led the charge around the corner, and everyone froze, unable to hide their alarm. Green blood dripped from the outsides of T'Lyn's forearms from where each forearm had had two spikes driven into the outside edge of each forearm. No—Mariner realized that in fact, the blood-covered spikes had sprouted from T'Lyn's forearms where T'Lyn had been scratching. The spikes were bent backwards towards the Vulcan's elbows.

T'Lyn's eyes found Mariner's. The look of unfiltered terror on T'Lyn's face made Mariner's blood freeze.

Very few things could still make Mariner's blood freeze.

Mariner hazarded, "T'Lyn?"

"Mariner-" T'Lyn stammered, "wh—what is happening to me!?"