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Return to Valjiir Continum
Sulu made a quick decision in the seconds between the first attempt to transport and the second, rough but successful beaming; Kyle was going to be very surprised when he got off duty. There might even be a new Transporter Chief in the morning - after all he wasn't someone Scott would miss. As the transporter room became solid around him, he pondered a second question, whether or not to warn Kyle. One couldn't smile while in the beam, but to meet the man's eyes, and slowly --
Sulu's thoughts stopped abruptly as soon as the wall opposite his vision became whole. It was blank. His gaze shifted in rapid succession to Kyle, the rest of the room, and the door. No guards, no Paget, and Kyle was in a red officer's tunic. He blinked, his mind racing. Something's wrong, drastically wrong.
"Are you all right, Sulu?" Kyle asked. "That was rough; the ion storm caused a power surge."
The man's tone was much too companionable. Sulu nodded, almost not trusting himself to speak. He moved off the platform, carefully watching Kyle for any sign of an ambush. He knew better than to ask about the guards, or where Paget was. He knew better, too, than to make any move toward his phaser or knife. If that wasn't instant death, he didn't know what was. He was quite surprised that he made it out of the room.
He almost wished he hadn't.
The corridor was empty. No guards, nothing between him and the turbolift. What the hell was going on? Besides your funeral, he added wryly to himself. But who? And how so fast? He'd only been planetside for three hours. Spock. Then how did he get Engineering on his side? No way, unless he and Kirk – by the gods. He and Kirk. Paget, if I get out of this alive...
A figure appeared in the corridor, walking toward him, and he was both relieved and newly suspicious. Kirk wore no weapons, but he was also in a regulation uniform. He showed no intention of a confrontation, so Sulu decided not force one, just to be very careful of his back until he was on the turbolift. He saluted as the captain passed.
Several realizations came in quick succession. The arm that struck his right shoulder and extended out at a sharp angle was covered with a gold sleeve. His uniform was red.
Kirk's face went pale and Sulu heard him stop, inhale sharply, bark "Sulu!"
He reached for his phaser, found no weapon, no sash, no knife, no agonizer, and pivoted sharply, ready for Kirk's attack.
Kirk stepped back, toward the intercom on the wall, and called for Security.
Make it my attack, Captain, with justifiable murder? Sulu thought coldly. Not if I kill you before your men get here. Yet...
How did I change clothes in the middle of a transporter beam?
The thought was the only thing that saved Kirk's life. The uncertainty made Sulu's attack just a fraction of a second slow, time enough for Kirk to be ready for it.
They fought hand to hand, brutal and determined. Kirk's greater strength and size were matched by Sulu's agility and rapid reflexes. Yet not out-matched. There were openings Sulu missed, blows that, if delivered just a bit faster, should've been lethal. The thought that Kirk could best him if he'd really been trying was disconcerting, and Sulu realized that Kirk wasn't trying. His actions were purely defensive. Why? He wants me dead, why wait for Security? A game, Kirk? You want me squirming? Don't you know better than that by now? He smiled grimly, saw fear in Kirk's eyes. The grin widened. Not sure you can hold out, are you?
The sound of running feet and the whir of a phaser reached Sulu's ears at the same time, and with his last breath he cursed James Kirk.
And blessed him.
"Get him to the Brig, maximum security," Kirk ordered the surprised Security men. They looked at him blankly for a second, then at the unconscious Lieutenant Sulu.
"Sir?" Brady stammered. "What..."
"Now!" Kirk snapped and turned back to the intercom. "Mr. Spock, Dr. McCoy, Mr. Scott, meet me in the Brig, on the double."
The Security men were carrying Sulu into the turbolift and Kirk followed them. That was stupid, he thought angrily. I should have ignored the salute and waited until he was in the turbolift, then I could have used my override to lock him in the car until Security cane. He's a dangerous animal and my reaction was stupid.
He closed his eyes as he realized that he was very lucky Sulu hadn't been armed.
Sulu's first conscious thought was Fuck! quickly followed by the knowledge that he was in the Brig. My own people. This is going to be bad. Maybe I can make more trouble than it's worth to make it too slow. He lay still, fighting the urge to get up and see what was being prepared. If they don't know I'm awake, I can get ready before they start. He closed his eyes, after opening them only a fraction to confirm where he was. He thought again of Jeremy Paget. If he could, he was going to take his bodyguard with him.
Voices floated to him, and he listened intently, identifying Kirk, Spock, Scott, and McCoy.
"I can get you the power, Captain, but I canna guarantee it'll work."
"Just get me the power, Scotty. Spock?"
"I have completed the analysis of all pertinent data, Captain. The re-transfer should work, since all measurable factors are comparable with the previous incident."
"Hell, what are we waitin' for? The sooner we get that monster back where he belongs, the better."
The words only brought more confusion, shedding no light on anything that had happened, and Sulu was far more perplexed than worried.
What the hell is going on! Are all of them working together? For what? 'Re-transfer', 'previous incident', 'back where he belongs'... What is this?
He heard approaching footsteps, and decided to be ready. Feigning unconsciousness wasn't gaining him a thing. He was off the bed, balanced on the balls of his feet, alert but apparently relaxed, in one swift movement.
"Our guest is awake, Captain," Spock's voice said as he came into view, and Sulu stared involuntarily. The Vulcan no longer wore a beard.
Spock was intrigued by his first impression of the young man who both was and wasn't Sulu. Alert, calculating, calm but ready to react instantly to any stimulus. He was very different from the previous inhabitants of his universe that Spock had dealt with. They had been rash, heedlessly violent, barbaric in every respect. He had assumed that they were representative of their culture and that this young man would be the same. He apparently had been wrong. Sulu watched everything before him, was constantly thinking. And a thinking man can be reasoned with.
Spock glanced at the captain, then at McCoy and Scott. All they saw, he knew, was the dangerous assassin that had nearly cost them their chance of returning home. Yet he is rational, and too cautious for unnecessary violence. Hardly a proper candidate for the term 'monster.' He fixed his gaze on the young man.
"Mr. Sulu, it would no doubt be best to begin with the truth. You are not where you think you are," he said. The obvious, disbelieving 'where am I then' formed in Sulu's eyes, but he said nothing. "There is a phenomenon known to us, one of alternate, or parallel universes," Spock continued. "We have experienced this before, the transference of one mental entity from his own physical self to the physical self of his counterpart in one of these parallels. We believe the previous transference was with the universe you normally inhabit. You are the Chief of Security and Chief Helmsman of the vessel I.S.S. Enterprise. This ship is the United Starship Enterprise, of the United Federation of Planets. There is no First Terran Empire." He watched as Sulu studied first him, then the room beyond him, the other people in the room, then his own arm. When he looked up, there was a hint of relief as well as dark annoyance in his eyes.
"Yes," he said finally. "It all adds up." He straightened, an odd form of relaxation. "What are you going to do with me, then?"
"Send you back to the hell you came from," McCoy growled.
The young man cocked his head and smiled engagingly at the doctor. "Am I a demon?" he asked mildly, but his eyes were icy challenge. Kirk took a warning step forward. McCoy took a hasty one back.
"Our opinions of you or your ship are irrelevant," Kirk said. "We want to return you as quickly as we can with as little theatrics as possible."
Sulu shrugged, but his gaze was fixed on Kirk. "Your ship, Captain."
"As long as you keep that in mind, mister, there won't be any problems," Kirk answered.
Sulu nodded. "It would be foolish to do anything but cooperate."
"And you are not a foolish man," Spock commented.
Sulu flashed Spock a familiar self-deprecating grin. "I try not to be."
"Time, Scotty?" Kirk asked abruptly.
"I've got the power for you now, Captain," Scott said.
"Then let's get this over with."
"He what? Sulu?" Uhura said. Her voice carried through the Bridge, and everyone turned to look at her. She moved her mouthpiece away and announced incredulously, "Sulu's in the Brig. He attacked the captain!"
From the computer, auxiliary science and engineering stations, Ruth Valley, Daffy Gollub and Judy Miller converged upon communications.
"What?" Daffy said.
"I don't believe it!" Ruth asserted.
"What happened?" Judy insisted.
"I don't know," Uhura said. "Grady says they got an urgent call from Captain Kirk, and when they got to him, he and Sulu were locked in very determined combat. The Captain said Sulu attacked him, and they took him to the Brig."
"Sulu wouldn't do that," Judy mused.
"Not unless he was crazy," Daffy added.
"Or sick," Ruth put in. "He must be. He should be in Sickbay, not..."
"Captain called for Dr. McCoy and Mr. Spock and Mr. Scott," Uhura interrupted after listening at her receiver for a moment. "They're in Security now." She looked at Judy. "You've got a call at Engineering."
Judy started for her board, and Ruth handed the tape she'd been holding to Daffy. "Run this report in, Daf, I've got to talk to Sulu," she said, and left the Bridge. Daffy shook her head, and Uhura shrugged worriedly.
The sensation of the transporter beam was strangely different, a tingling that was almost tangible. And he was aware of the passage of time, also abnormal for a transporter. He found himself hoping that it meant he would solidify in his own transporter room, with Kyle fawningly apologetic and Paget eager to re-prove his loyalty.
The sparkle left his eyes, and four faces stared hopefully at him. No good. He folded his arms, and smiled bitterly.
Kirk turned abruptly to Scott. "Why didn't it work!" he demanded. Scott stared at his board, puzzled.
"I don't know, sir. It should have, the power surge was duplicated exactly. I checked it with Miller up on the Bridge."
Kirk turned. "Spock?" he questioned.
"The calculations were correct sir, and programmed accurately into the transporter. It should have worked." Spock replied.
"But it didn't," McCoy accused. "Why not?"
Scott shrugged helplessly, already rechecking his equipment. Spock moved to aid him, then froze, obviously consumed with a new train of thought. He quickly checked the transporter, spoke briefly with Scott, then faced the Captain.
"There is no malfunction, Captain, or inaccuracy of execution," Spock said slowly. "However I do have an explanation." He paused. "It is more than possible that the transference is failing because there is no longer anyone existing in the First Terran Empire to transfer with."
The implication took only seconds to sink in. Scott hung his head. McCoy and Kirk exchanged grieving, fearful, pained glances, then blue and hazel eyes looked in anger and condemnation at the transporter platform.
And on it, Sulu's smile turned the slightest bit sour. When's the execution, Captain?
No one spoke as they took him back to the Brig, and Sulu wasn't going to be the one to break the silence. He was alert but saw no way of escape, and his guards were careful. Once he was behind the Brig force screen he was left alone with only a guard outside the doorway. Trapped, caged, he fought the urge to pace restlessly. He wouldn't show tension with the guard there to see weakness and report it to Kirk. You're dead, Sulu, he told himself caustically, why worry about the little details of survival now? Maybe because the reason you're dead is that some boy didn't have sense enough to worry about the details for even half an hour. He sat down on the bed, elbows resting on his knees, arms crossed, contemplating the manner of his counterpart's death. What had it been that could've given him away so quickly? Not cautious, not outwardly fearless, too readily showing the confusion... I'll bet Paget knew at first glance. Knew...what? That his boss had gone soft or crazy or both, and I've taught him too well for him not to desert a sinking ship. It was you, wasn't it, Jer. To Spock or Kirk? I'll never know, and it would've been interesting to see which way you went. It would've told me so much about you.
He sighed, hearing but taking no notice of the soft voice that suddenly whispered "Roy!" Some guard's temporary passion no doubt, come to ease the long hours of duty. Now, how many options of dying do they have here? A phaser blast would be the easiest, and quickest. No reason for any lengthy interrogation. What of value could I tell them?
"Sulu!"
The same soft voice, and he turned toward it.
Ruth's worry only deepened when Sulu didn't respond to his nickname. What was wrong? He was sitting so still, and there was no relaxation anywhere in him. He must be sick to be so tense. She stepped closer to the force screen, wanting to touch him. "Sulu!" she murmured concernedly.
He turned his head, his eyes flashing up at her, and Ruth stifled the sharp gasp that sounded in her throat. The sable eyes she knew so well were gone, no warmth or care or laughter. Instead ebony ice stared up at her with no recognition; power, cold fire, calculating, hidden violence - and a burning, piercing need, desire, and - most frightening - capability to know.
She backed, and he said, calmly "Antari." The voice was Sulu's, but thicker, deeper, more sensual. Ruth bolted away, sure of only one thing:
The man in the cell was not Sulu.
McCoy paced agitatedly around his office while the Captain took the chair behind the desk and Spock stood, arms crossed, watching both men as they talked. The discussion was more heated than it should have been, with both Kirk and McCoy allowing their previous experience to influence their opinions.
"As I see it, there's no option," McCoy stated brusquely. "We have to report this to the proper authorities and let them deal with it."
"I don't think there's any dissension on that point, Bones," Kirk replied. "But until we can get him to Elba or Tantalus, we have to do something with him."
"Keep the animal locked up," McCoy growled.
"Mr. Sulu is not an animal," Spock interjected quietly. "He has shown himself to be controlled and open to reason."
McCoy whirled to face Spock. "You didn't see him, you weren't there!"
"Doctor," Spock replied, "he is no longer there,"
"Spock, what are you suggesting?" Kirk broke in. "That we let him go free, that we unleash a clever barbarian on this ship?"
"No, Captain, but even if I were, what harm could one man do? There were four the last time, one ostensibly the commanding officer of this vessel, with his Chief Engineer, Chief Medical Officer and Chief of Communications. They did no harm."
"Because they were locked up!" McCoy interrupted.
"They were locked up," Spock said calmly, "because they were irrational. Mr. Sulu is not."
"And so more dangerous," Kirk muttered.
"How, Captain? Even at his most persuasive, how could Sulu begin a mutiny? Our social system here is quite different than his own. His methods cannot work here. What other does he know? There is no open weaponry that be could use to force acquiescence, no agonizer or Booth for punishing disobedience. A wolf he may be, but here he has no teeth, and no claws."
"All right then, Spock," McCoy said. "Just what is it that you're suggesting?"
Spock's answer was simple and direct. "Acculturate him."
"What!" McCoy burst out. "Are you out of your Vulcan mind? You want to put that monster in the mainstream of normal society? Are you blind that you can't see what a man like that could do? He's a murderer, an assassin...!"
"In his own universe, Doctor, that is the norm."
"And you pointed out that this isn't his universe, Spock," Kirk put in sternly.
"Exactly. Here, he must behave differently."
"How can you be so sure?" Kirk asked. Spock regarded him in surprise.
"I cannot, Captain."
"Then how do you have the gall to..." McCoy's tirade was interrupted by the opening of the door to his office.
"Bones, who is he?" Ruth asked breathlessly, ignoring the Captain's and Spock's presence. Her attention was focused with unwavering intensity on McCoy. "He's wearing Sulu's body, but it's not Sulu's mind. I can see the – I'm a telepath, an empath, and I can feel the difference."
"What are you doing away from your post, Ensign?" Kirk demanded angrily.
Ruth flushed then swung to face the Captain. "I'm sorry, sir, but I had to see Roy. I didn't leave my post unoccupied, and I thought I might be able to help. Only he isn't sick, he isn't Sulu. Who is he?"
"Roy," Kirk repeated. "Miss Valley, it is not within the realm of your authority to delegate responsibility. You had no permission to leave your post, concern for Mr. Sulu notwithstanding. Consider yourself on report, and return to your duty."
"Captain," Spock said quietly, "as Miss Valley is a telepath, perhaps she would be of more use here than on the Bridge."
Kirk was silent for a moment, then nodded. "Very well, Mr. Spock. But Ensign, you're still on report."
"Yes, sir," Ruth murmured, and gave a quick nod of thanks to Spock. She looked expectantly to McCoy, who cleared his throat.
"Ah, Ruthie..." he began.
"To answer your question, Miss Valley," Spock broke in, "'who he is' is Mr. Sulu, lieutenant, Chief Helmsman, Chief of Security. However, he is an officer of the Imperial Star Command, not the United Star Command, and he served aboard the ISS Enterprise." He went on, not giving the young woman time to ask the obvious question. "We have already attempted a re-transfer, unsuccessfully. We fear that our Sulu is already dead." He paused. "I understand you were very close to him. I am sorry."
Ruth stood, silent, eyes closed, swallowing, for long seconds. No one attempted to talk with her, or comfort her. When she finally opened her eyes, they were dry, but her lips seemed very tight. She faced Spock. "What are we going to do with him?" she asked, her voice only faintly hoarse.
"That's what we were discussing when you came in, Miss Valley," Kirk said.
"This damn fool wants to acculturate him!" McCoy snorted derisively, indicating Spock.
Ruth regarded the doctor solemnly. "I think that's our only option," she replied.
McCoy stared for a moment, then mumbled, "You're as crazy as he is."
"Miss Valley, we aren't discussing your 'Roy'," Kirk interjected. "This man is dangerous and …"
"Only because he is unaccustomed to our universe, Captain. Once he realizes the differences, he must accept and adapt," Spock insisted. "He has little choice. There is no other way for survival, and he is one who survives."
"Besides," Ruth added, "we have an obligation to him as a sentient being. He has rights here. If we condemn him, we're the worst kind of hypocrites. After all, it's not his fault he's here, or that he can't get back."
"Or would you hold one man to blame for the savagery of his entire universe," Spock finished.
"He is dangerous," Kirk repeated, and with a sharp glance at Ruth, added, "no matter how fascinating."
Ruth flushed a deep red, and Spock spoke up quickly. "Yes, Captain, but he is also rational, and has no wish to die unnecessarily. He has already shown cooperation and personal control. I believe he can become a productive member of our society. He at least deserves the opportunity. And I would suggest Miss Valley and myself as teachers since, should he at some time become undisciplined, she and I are fully capable of dealing with his destructiveness."
"Captain, we understand how it feels to belong, yet not belong," Ruth continued. "We can help him adjust. He's not 'Roy', but he is a person in need of help. And I'm keheil, not Marla McGivers."
"You did give Khan that consideration," Spock reminded.
"Not on my ship," Kirk stated harshly.
"What's wrong with this acculturation taking place on Elba or Tantalus, where it's safe," McCoy grumbled.
"If you treat a man like a criminal, he begins to believe he's a criminal," Ruth protested.
"Mr. Sulu has done nothing wrong," Spock added. "This is as close to a recognizable environment for him as he will encounter. The familiar here will better enable him to deal with what is unfamiliar. And here we can provide a controlled structure while allowing him carefully increasing freedom."
"And if he manages to do some harm despite all your efforts?" Kirk asked.
"I take full responsibility, Captain."
"Is that what I tell the brass, Spock? On my ship you took 'full responsibility'?"
"Captain, he deserves a chance!" Ruth pleaded.
Kirk was silent for several minutes. Finally he looked up. "One month. If you can prove he's not dangerous in one month, we'll talk about this again. But if he makes one wrong move that in any way endangers this ship or any member of her crew, it's done."
"Sir, one month is hardly time enough to alter a lifetime of conditioned responses and patterns of..." Spock began.
"One month, mister. Prove to me he's not a threat and we'll discuss more. That's it."
Ruth stared at Spock, who simply nodded to Kirk with a quiet "yes, sir."
Kirk got up. "I'll make the official reports, with my recommendation for his treatment here. That's all, gentlemen."
As he left, McCoy turned away with a sigh. "For once in my life Spock," he said, "I hope you're right."
Ruth waited until McCoy decided to leave his office to set up a physical for Sulu before she spoke. "A month isn't enough time Mr. Spock. It's taken us both years to adapt to Terran culture."
"That is quite correct, Miss Valley," Spock replied. "However, Captain Kirk was loathe to allow us that much time. In his present emotional state, had I pressed for more, we would have received less, or possibly nothing. I was unwilling to risk what he had conceded. As far as acculturating Mr. Sulu in that time, it is, of course, impossible. However, that is not what the captain demanded. I believe it is possible to prove Mr. Sulu uninjurious in one month's time. Despite insistence to the contrary, Mr. Sulu is neither a raging animal nor an uncivilized monster."
"I think I should talk to him," Ruth said quietly. Spock nodded.
"There are a few things I must attend to. Please report to me when you have formulated some ideas on how we are to begin our task."
"Yes, sir," Ruth said, and turned, leaving McCoy's office.
"Miss Valley?"
She stopped in' the doorway.
"Yes, sir?"
"I, too, mourn his death."
Ruth quickly swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yes, sir," she said, and let the door close behind her.
Before doing anything else, Ruth went to the observation deck. Before she could face the man who both was and wasn't Sulu she had to deal with her own sense of loss. She watched the stars for awhile, and refused to cry.
Zehara, Buddha, God, take care of him. Z, he'd make a good Antari, so maybe next time…
Damnit Roy, what fun is this ship going to be without you? Who do I go to to make me laugh or make love to me when I'm overworked and frustrated and need to let off some steam? Jock scolds me and Ben's brisk; you were always so easy, so comfortable... You were the most genuinely kind man I ever met. An unassuming peacock, who didn't mind being teased about it. I'm sorry, I wish there was something I could have done. I know, we're in Fleet, and ship duty is always dangerous, we could die any minute, we have to be prepared. But beaming up from a shore leave? How could they do that to you?
They. Hell, it's nobody's fault. You want me to burn some incense or something for you? I'm not terribly up on Buddhist traditions. I'll take care of your plants, even Gertrude.
Oh god, he's you, will he have to use your quarters? Yes, I guess. I'll try not to hate him, it's not his fault you're dead. This would be a lot easier if I didn't have to face him too.
Maybe he is 'fascinating', Captain, but he isn't Roy. And I'm not Spike anymore, just Keheil ani Ramy trying to do her duty to a stranger.
She sighed, closed her eyes to shut out the stars for a moment, then gulped back the last unshed tear and made herself take the turbolift to the Brig.
"Sulu?"
It was the Antari again. He studied her as she stood beyond the force screen. Her voice had been uncertain, but there was nothing else uncertain about her. Tall, for a woman, but most Antaris were; slender, willowy, a body that was agile-looking, and sensual in a way that was challenging but no less feminine for the challenge. Long legs that would have looked longer if she'd been wearing proper boots, movements that were fluid and inviting. Her eyes were her race's wide, deep violet, and they stared back at him, evaluating and curious. He smiled appreciatively. There was no answering suggestive smile. She was studying him. How very odd from an Antari. And how very odd that her hair should be worn in an austere bun instead of framing her beautiful face with torrents of gold.
She must be the Captain's - who else could afford to keep something so exotic? What does she want with me? Did Kirk send her? Perhaps I should ask. "Hello... Ensign," he said.
She finally returned his smile, but it was just an attempt at being friendly. Not at all the response he was expecting or wanted. "My name is Ruth Valley. May I talk to you?" she asked.
The tone was clear, melodic, sensual, yet definitely not an invitation. Could things be that different, an Antari with something other than screwing on her mind? Was she Antari? Yes, no doubt. But - "A Human name," he said aloud, "now that's interesting." He stood, and gestured for her to enter.
"Grady," she said, and the guard looked dubiously at her. "It's okay, you'll be right here." She beamed charmingly at the guard, who nodded and cut the field just long enough for her to slip through.
Definitely Antari, Sulu thought with amusement. He hadn't taken his eyes off her, and she cleared her throat.
"I - " she began, "I'm sorry."
"When's the execution?" he asked brusquely. She seemed shocked.
"What?"
Didn't they tell you? "The execution," he repeated.
She blinked, then tried to smile reassuringly. "No, there's not going to be an execution. We don't..."
"No?" His eyes remained riveted to her. She met his gaze warily.
"No."
He watched as the warmth faded with his stare. Words are so clumsy. Far better to tell her silently. I don't know what you were sent for, but I know why you're here. Beautiful, sensual, seductive Antari. Not a last meal. Maybe a first one. "Come here."
The violet eyes grew fearful, hungry, confused. She was certain she could handle him, yet not sure she wanted to. The danger excited her, attracted her, frightened her. She wanted to give, to ease him with more than the exquisite perfection of her body, and that, too, terrified her. He let the barest trace of a smile cross his eyes: eager, calling with a hunger of his own, and her terror slipped into panic. She broke away from his eyes.
She took a step backwards and half turned to run before she caught herself and took a deep steadying breath. "I think we better start over," she said, making herself meet his eyes again. "We have a lot to discuss."
He nodded, noting that this time she didn't try to hold his gaze. She'd wanted to bolt, but she'd forced herself to stay. Courageous, determined as well as curious, and unmistakably Antari. Very intriguing. "I take it," he said as he sat down on the bed, "that I've somehow managed to prolong my life. I'd like to know how, as I'd like to keep doing it."
She sighed with relief. "You've committed no crime," she told him. "And the Federation doesn't impose the death penalty on innocent people."
He looked around the cell, then laughed bitterly. "Then I'm free to go."
"I didn't say that. Eventually you'll have the freedom of the ship, if you cooperate. Mr. Spock considers you a reasonable, rational being and has been given permission to attempt to acculturate you to Federation life."
He fixed his eyes on her again. "And you?"
"I'm here to help. You won't understand, but it's my duty to help. Because I'm a healer, because it's all there is to do, because I'm a hybrid, because I lo - was close to Sulu. And it's not your fault. You're as stuck with us as we are with you." She smiled briefly. "I don't expect you to trust me, not right away, but I'm asking for your cooperation."
"Which means?" he prompted.
"That you learn our customs and morals and patterns of behavior and try to act according to them. That you obey our laws, ethical, cultural, and moral as well as pragmatic. And that you accept that you have to change in order to survive. Can you do that?"
He considered for a long time, then sighed. "I don't have much choice, do I?"
Her eyes turned rueful. "No, not really," she said. "Because it will happen, either on the ship in an environment you're comfortable with or on a rehab-colony, or even a psychiatric colony."
"Oh." Sulu kept the relief inside himself. He hadn't realized how close he'd come to life in a 'colony'. Images of the torn, twisted, barely alive wrecks of Imperial experiments swirled against his memory, and he came to another realization. What sickened him about the thought was the vulgarity of it all. And the waste. There was no purpose to it. Not like --
He stopped the thoughts. Federation, remember? It probably wouldn't be like that at all. All the same... He looked up at Ruth and smiled, boyish, self-effacing, charming, sunshine. "Miss Valley," he said, "you have my full cooperation."
Her return smile was wistful; he saw the thought, 'you're very like him,' cross her eyes. Am I, Ruth? We'll have to find out, won't we?