“Tharas, I know where it is!” Christy nearly shouted at the Andorian.

He blinked, turning his head to her, then took a step toward the sudden emotional explosion from Del, Dylan, Eontril and Rian. Sulu, too, was turning toward them.

“I gonna report you fo’ assault, you damn chiot,” DelMonde was growling.

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Eontril told him. “He saved your life. Or at least your sanity. Not that that’s worth much.”

“I not tell you t’ go fuck…” Del snarled.

“Big, bad empath doesn’t scare me,” the Indiian returned. “I’ve held my own against the entire damned Aeman conspiracy.”

“Eontril, my love, leave it,” Rian murmured.

Eontril visibly calmed, smiled warmly at the Antari.

“Del, what the hell happened?” Sulu asked grimly.

“Ilne fightin’ wit’ someone else,” the engineer returned, still glaring at Plad.

“On the psychic plane,” Dylan added helpfully.

“Captain,” Tharas interrupted. “Christy says she knows where the stasis box is.”

“Yeah,” Sulu returned. “But what good does that do us? We don’t know how to open the damn things.”

“Let her get close to it,” the Andorian suggested, jerking his thumb toward the young racer. “If she knows where it is…” He let the sentence drop, shrugging.

“We can’t use the transporters,” Sulu countered. “We might end up inside it with…”

“I can transport us,” Rian broke in. She turned to Christy. “Child, can you give me a picture of the location?”

“It’s as clear as a bell,” Christy replied.

Rian nodded and gently touched the girl’s temple.

“We all goin’?” Del asked.

“I’ll stay here to keep an eye on Ilne,” Tharas said, then grinned. “Just in case.”

“Captain, are you sure this is wise?” Dylan asked.

Sulu took a deep breath. “No, but what else is there to do?” he answered.

“Simply hold onto one another’s hands,” Rian said. “I can take us all.”

Dylan eagerly grabbed Del’s hand, and he scowled. Eontril was already holding Rian’s left hand, her right against Christy’s face. Sulu sighed, taking Del’s and Enotril’s other hands. Christy reached out, placing her hand on Dylan’s shoulder.

“Ruth not able t’ do not’ing like this,” Del mumbled.

“But Tharas sure sounds like Jer,” Sulu murmured back With that semi-reassuring thought, they both held their breaths and closed their eyes.

The surface of DiCenta was mostly barren desert, cooler than Terran deserts because the planet was farther from its sun than Earth was from Sol. But it was dry and dusty with scraggly vegetation and no wind. The atmosphere was M class, if a little thin. If it hadn’t been for the lack of heat and blazing red sun, Sulu would have compared it to Vulcan. There was a small outcropping of what looked like rocks in front of them – that is, if rocks were ever that symmetrical.

Christy dropped her hand from Dylan’s shoulder and pointed.

“That’s it,” she said.

“It doesn’t look very box-like,” Dylan replied dubiously.

The racer gave him a disgusted look. “You gonna doubt the word of your elder, Peregrine?” she asked pointedly, and the ensign flushed.

Del snorted. Her use of his Clavist handle and the term ‘elder’ let both he and the captain know that though she looked younger, Christy had been racing longer than Paine.

“I sense – a presence,” Rian was saying as she moved closer to the rock/box.

“There’s no emotion,” Eontril added. “Whoever’s in there…”

“It encased in a Slaver stasis field,” Del drawled. “What you expect, son? An open comlink?”

“Don’t get on your high horse with me, son,” the Indiian returned.

“Eontril,” Rian murmured, and Plad subsided.

“Whatever’s in there, it’s got to be old,” Sulu was muttering. “The Slavers disappeared over…” He stopped, then shrugged. “So much for stating the obvious,” he finished with a wry scowl.

“Wait,” Christy said, moving next to Rian. “I can…” She squinted her eyes. “Damn, I can see it – him,” she hastily corrected. “Humanoid, adult, male… damn it, I think… Jesus, I think…”

“Fo’ the love o’…” Del muttered, and closed his eyes.

“Del, don’t!” Dylan began, and Rian waved her hand, taking the few steps to the engineer’s side. She gently took his hand, her own enormous purple eyes closing.

Del started momentarily as Rian’s warm, golden power flooded him. The sweet relief was colored with equally sweet memory, the pain of it quickly eclipsing all else.

Forgive me, Del, the Antari’s voice murmured, but you cannot do this alone.

You t’ink I not strong enough… he began harshly.

On the contrary, I think you are too strong, she said, and her smile shivered through him like the touch of sunshine on a cool morning.

What th’ fuck that mean?

Just concentrate, and let me focus your energy, Rian replied.

Del caught the faint afterthought: You really do need a catalyst to prevent the xenoneurophene from activating.

Hell, I thought I done wit’ that, he muttered.

Rian only smiled again. Concentrate, she instructed.

With a scowl, he took a deep breath and let her mind focus his.

The contact was sudden and startling. Information flowed to both their minds, incredulous and worldview shattering. The being trapped in stasis was conscious, a resigned fury centuries old coloring his thoughts. He was a corporeal being, but with immense psychic power, trapped by something even more powerful than he was, held captive by more than the stasis field. He became aware of Del and Rian and turned dark mental eyes to them.

Let me out! he screamed, and the force reverberated through them both.

Who are you? Rian asked.

The answer came in a flood of images, a peaceful pastoral planet, its inhabitants reaching the point where bodies were almost superfluous. They were in awe of their power, wanting to find a way to reach beyond their existence, filled with righteous purpose. They sought through the heavens, wanting to reach the Beings who had seeded them here, needing to tell them that they were ready to join in the Great Work, to take their place next to their fathers and mothers.

Yet, when contact came, it was not as they expected. The Original Ones seemed condescending, nearly cold. They were told that non-corporeal existence was not enough, that they needed to grow more, to see the larger picture of the galaxy, not simply their small corner of it. Their preoccupation with pacifism was a stage, they were told, one they had to get past to see the truth behind tending and cultivating. Evolution was a process, the Old Ones said, and in truth, one they had just begun.

They reacted with the anger that was so anathema to them, and the Beings sighed and shook their heads. He had lashed out, and the Original Ones had fled. Triumph had filled him and he prepared to follow, certain their reaction was because they knew he could best them.

Then came the trap, a cold stillness that engulfed him and bought him to this place.

It was all he had known for millennia.

Del’s empathy cried out with the injustice of it. Always there was someone who thought they knew better what to do with your life, always there was someone more powerful threatening to keep you in your place.

No, Del, those are his emotions, not yours! Rian cried. Come with me, we must pull back.

Gold surrounded him, and he took a shaking breath. But we not know who… he began.

I know enough, the Antari assured him. Come back with me.

The pull of her mind was impossible to resist, and he found himself back on DiCenta, feeling like he’d been sitting out on the Gulf for weeks; hot, sweating, sunburned – but quiet.

“Del, are you okay?” Dylan asked, moving to stand close to the engineer. As his hand reached up, Del swatted it away.

“I fine, Dylan,” he growled.

“But – you’re sweating – and it’s not hot here,” the ensign protested. His hand again moved toward Del’s hair.

“Oh, for Roshi’s sake, let him ease his worry,” Eontril snapped. “What’s it going to hurt?”

You are well, and he needs to feel that, Rian’s voice said in Del’s head.

With an exaggerated sigh, Del grunted at Dylan, and the boy’s hand tangled in his hair. After a few moments in which the engineer could feel both irritation and sexual hunger begin to rise within him, Dylan pulled his hand away.

“Thank god,” the ensign breathed, and rested his head on the taller man’s shoulder.

“What did you sense?” Sulu asked both Del and Rian. “What’s in there?”

“He is Organian,” Rian said quietly.

“Organian?” Christy repeated, blinking. “But they’re – I mean – they don’t have…”

“They are non-corporeal now,” Rian returned. “They were not always.”

“And this one is centuries old…” Sulu murmured, then shivered. “Jesus.”

“Why is he is there?” Dylan prompted. “How did the Slavers…?”

“That I cannot say,” the Antari replied. “I must speak to Ilne.”

She closed her eyes, and in moments, the air shimmered just as it had on the Lynx, and the beautiful Seeder appeared. Her face was etched with tension.

“So you know, daughter,” she said without preliminary.

“I know what, Ara,” Rian said, her head bowed respectfully. “I do not know why.”

“It is not a thing which need concern…” Ilne began.

“Wait a minute,” Sulu interrupted. “Whatever’s going on is affecting the Lynx, and for all I know, the Drake. My officers are held within that stasis field, and I have a duty to…”

Ilne gave him a strained smile. “Yes. That much I can remedy. As for the rest – there will come a day, Captain, when you will damn me for what must be done here, yet in time, you will understand.”

Sulu swallowed, the shojis again trembling. He briefly closed his eyes to strengthen them, and when he opened them again, Ilne’s silver eyes were boring into him, seeing the shojis and past them, into his very soul.

You are wiser and stronger than you know, she said silently. You have many trials ahead of you, but in the end, they will all be worth the pain and grief you must endure. The Havens are right. Her mental gaze turned to Del. He, too, is a part of the song that has yet to be played and, like you, there will be much for him to bear. Do not let him be lost to the demons within.

Sulu’s eyes met Del’s and he knew the engineer had heard all Ilne had said. He quickly averted his gaze, seeing Del do the same.

The Seeder turned to Christy. “I am in your debt, kor-ani,” she said, and Rian started. “Nurture your power well.”

“What did you call me?” Christy asked, but Ilne only smiled.

“I will take this stasis box,” she said, ignoring Christy’s question. “Captain, your officers will need attention, for they will be weak. Until we meet again, my children.”

She stepped up to the rock and passed her hand over it. It shimmered, as did the air around her, and a rush of heat swept over them all as she and the box disappeared.

Lying on the sand, blinking and disoriented, Tara Ryan and Lian Rendell struggled to pull themselves upright.

“That was the damnedest transport I’ve ever…” Lian began. Her voice trailed off as she took in her surroundings. “Captain?” she asked, blinking.

Sulu’s throat was dry, but he managed, “It’s a long story, Lian.” The chirp of his communicator nearly made him jump. He took it off his belt, opening it.

“Captain, thank Aema!” Tristan Vale’s voice said from it, and Eontril growled. “We lost contact with you. Is everyone all right?”

“Um, I think so, Mister Vale,” Sulu replied.

“What happened?”

“It’s a long story,” Lian called, then put her hand to her forehead. Rian moved to her, kneeling gracefully beside her. She touched the Haven’s temple, then did the same to a wide-eyed Tara.

“I have restored their equilibrium, Captain,” the Antari said.

“Who’s that?” Tristan’s voice questioned.

“We met up with the High Stakes,” Sulu replied. “Is everyone on the Drake all right?”

“We’re all fine here, sir,” Jerel Courtland’s voice said. “And we’ve established communications with the Lynx – who are very surprised to find us here,” he added wryly.

“No shit,” Del muttered.

“Jerel, have Rivka beam up our landing party, and ask Captain Dekleva for permission for me to beam to the Lynx,” Sulu said. “I’ll explain it to her.”

“And the report from the High Stakes?” Courtland asked.

“I’ll brief the senior staff when I get back,” the captain responded. He closed his communicator and glanced around at his crew, motioning Dylan and Del over to Lian and Tara. Rian moved gracefully away, next to Eontril. As the transporter shimmer appeared around his crew, Sulu caught Del’s eyes. The engineer nodded. They’d have a private conversation when Sulu returned to the Drake, too.

Christy, Eontril and Rian transported to the Lynx with Sulu to retrieve Tharas before returning to the High Stakes. They found the Andorian surrounded by Lynx security, his arms folded, grinning smugly. Captain Anika Dekleva was there too, looking more cautious than angry, and Sulu explained the odd circumstances that had brought the Drake there. The Russian woman was at first skeptical, but when her own ship’s computer confirmed everything Sulu said, she shook her head in confused acceptance. She apologized for the distress signal, though it hadn’t been her who set it. Though he had no way to confirm it beyond a reasonable doubt, Sulu was sure the signal had come from Ilne.

As he and the High Stakes crew prepared to return to their ships, Tharas beckoned to the captain.

“A word, if you have time,” the Andorian rumbled.

Sulu nodded.

“About our report,” Tharas began.

“Christy told me,” Sulu broke in.

“Yeah, well… there’s more to it.”

Sulu’s eyebrow rose.

“What went on here – well…” Tharas paused. “Are you familiar with Terran history?”

The captain grinned. “Yes. Yes I am,” he replied.

“Then you know about the twentieth century so-called War To End All Wars?”

“Ye-es,” Sulu said slowly, his brow furrowing. “What about it?”

“That it was really just a family squabble gone ridiculous?”

“I’ve heard the theory.”

Tharas leaned in closer. “There’s a lot of that going on, and not just on Terra,” he said.

As he continued talking, Sulu’s eyes grew wider and wider, until he was certain they would fall out of his head.

“Just thought you should know – Kam,” Tharas concluded. Then he grinned, and stepped to the transporter.

Sulu watched him, dumbstruck, and heard Rian asking Christy, “Child, why did Ilne call you niece?”

The briefing was. Sulu informed his staff about the weakening of the Organian Influence, and that the Silmarils were on the job. Lian and Tara could only report cold nothingness from their experience in the stasis field. There was some measure of envy about Sulu having been lucky enough to meet the no-longer-mythical Seeders – twice – and he warned them all that such information was not to be shared with anyone else. Ever. There were expressions of appreciation at his honesty and willingness to trust his crew, and promises of utmost discretion.

And with that, the mission was officially over.

His eyes way too blue, Del muttered to himself as he and Dylan left the briefing room. There was no need for him to even reach into the ensign’s mind. The excitement over the information he had was nearly singing from him.

He gonna report it, regardless o’ what Sulu say, Del realized with sudden clarity.

An’ how you gonna stop him, son?

Ilne’s voice floated to his awareness, and he wasn’t entirely sure it was memory: If you were Antari, you would understand. And for a moment a teasing picture of himself with golden skin, blonde hair and purple eyes flashed into his brain.

That an order ma’am? he thought sourly.

As you wish, evan Louisa.

With a mental scowl, he straightened his shoulders and turned to face Dylan.

“No, you not,” he said.

The ensign blinked at him. “I’m not what?” he asked.

Del placed his hand on the ensign’s chest, forcing his back to the corridor bulkhead with grim determination.

“You not gonna breathe a word ‘bout any o’ this to your damn superiors,” the engineer murmured, his voice low and matter-of-fact.

The boy had the honesty to blush. “Don’t you think it’s important for the Federation to know what’s…” he began.

“Sulu gonna tell ‘em all they need to know,” Del returned. “That not need no supplement.”

“No disrespect to the captain,” Dylan persisted, “but he’s hardly qualified to know what…” He stopped, glancing away from Del’s face.

“’Cause he not Intelligence?” Del asked, deceptively mildly. “You ever stop to t’ink they may be a reason why he in charge an’ not you?”

“Del, you can’t seriously suggest I try to keep this from my superiors,” Dylan replied. “Even if I wanted to…”

Shit! The chiot right. A helpless growl started in Del’s chest. An’ what th’ fuck I do ‘bout that?

If you were Antari…

If I Antari, I not know what I couldn’t do ‘til I not do it.

He took a slow, deep breath, then lowered his head, kissing the startled but all-too-willing ensign. It wasn’t the rough passion that characterized their usual trysts. This was long, lingering, exploring, as sensual as Del could make it. He opened his mind to the ensign and felt the joyous response. The surface of his thoughts were filled with tender, frustrated emotion, as though he were going to try and convince the boy not to say anything to his superiors. He felt Dylan’s sorrowful negation, almost as if he could hear the ensign saying, I’m sorry, Del, but I really don’t have a choice. Del kept on, holding the kiss, pushing the emotions further, sending tendrils deeper and deeper into Dylan’s subconscious, masked by what was, after all the truth: Don’ tell, em, Dylan, he pled wordlessly. If you care fo’ me like you say, don’ tell ‘em.

Then, as Dylan’s mind was absorbed by the romanticism he’d always wanted from Del, Del found the synapses that held the information he wanted. They were like fireflies, zipping through the neurons, blinking on and off, almost like an old-style Morse code. Slowly, carefully, Del identified the ones that contained Dylan’s knowledge, reaching out to gently extinguish the flickering lights.

Ilne: out.

Organian Influence: gone.

Seeders: only what everyone already knew.

Slaver stasis fields: never seen one.

Christy Chas: a Clavist Racer, Ballerina, locate and see into stasis boxes? Don’t be ridiculous.

Then, more out of curiosity than anything else, he searched for all the information on himself. To his surprise, it was blocked by an impenetrable shield, all but for the blue aura of devotion – not to him as a man, but to his destiny.

Destiny?

Shee-it!

He noticed that the aura seemed to be linked to another sealed place, and he hesitated. Did he really want to know?

You already do, even Louisa. Ramy’s child is correct. You should have been Antari.

There was a warm laugh, and Del shivered, finally breaking the kiss.

He pulled away from Dylan, and the boy’s eyes were liquid sapphire.

“Del…” he murmured. “You’ve never kissed me like that before.”

“An’ I not likely t’ do it again,” Del whispered. A quick scan showed that the excitement of new information was gone. There was only the mild confusion that had dominated Tara and Lian’s thoughts. Dylan’s wounded puppy-eyes blinked at him. “But… why?”

“’Cause you a damn chiot,” Del replied, but with a hint of twinkle in his eyes.

Dylan flushed and Del turned away.

“You not fo’get, we got tutorin’ later,” he said, and walked down the corridor.

Well done, my son, Ilne’s voice echoed within him.

Not bad if I do say so my own self, Del returned and his gait turned from casual stride to a decided swagger.

It was only after he was in his own quarters that he began to feel uneasy.

The soft sound of Del’s guitar floated out of his cabin when Sulu hit the door chime. At the unusually soft, “Come,” Sulu entered the room, letting the door slide closed behind him before speaking.

“Nice tune,” he commented.

Del glanced up, then away from him, setting the instrument aside. “You wanna drink?” he asked.

“I could sure use one,” Sulu returned, and crossed the space between them, taking a seat at the engineer’s desk.

Del got a bottle of bourbon and a glass, pouring what was at least a double for his captain, and taking a swing from the bottle itself. Sulu downed it in one long go, swallowing with a wince as the burning liquid went down his throat. Del filled the glass again, taking another long pull himself.

“So,” Sulu began, spreading his hands on the desk, “about this corporeal Organian…”

“Shee-it,” Del breathed. Then: “They was fightin’ like I said.”

“You said that about….” Sulu began, then let it drop, since it only confirmed what he already knew.

The black eyes slid away. “I not t’ink I say too much ‘bout that,” he answered.

“It’s okay,” Sulu murmured. “Tharas told me.”

“He did, huh?” Del grunted. “Damned interferin’ ‘paths.”

“Andorians aren’t telepathic,” Sulu pointed out.

“Yeah,” was all Del said.

Each took another drink in silence.

“It’s a bitch when other people think they know what’s good for you,” Sulu said at last.

“You got that one right, mon ami,” Del returned.

After another long pause, Sulu took a cautious breath. “So, we’re both wiser and stronger than we know, huh?

Del’s chuckle was acidic. “Yeah, an’ we got lots more shit t’ endure.” The last word was said with bitter emphasis. He glanced away again, then brought his gaze to Sulu’s. “She say anyt’ing ‘bout fate?”

“Fate?”

“I got th’ impression she talkin’ ‘bout our destiny – “ He paused. “Or some such shit.”

It was Sulu’s turn to give a wry chuckle. “Yeah, it sounded that way, didn’t it?”

“Whyfor we gotta have destiny?” Del asked, his voice suddenly plaintive. “Shit, Sulu, why it fall on our heads?”

Sulu took a deep breath, then slowly let it out. “Sakura once told me,” he began, “that the reason fucked-up shit happens to good people is because only the good can survive really fucked-up shit.”

Del snorted. “Not you nor me good people, Sulu.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” There was yet another long pause, then the two spoke together.

“But the Silmaril’s idea of good isn’t necessarily ours.”

“Fate,” Del added.

“Destiny,” Sulu agreed.

“Shee-it.”

They shared another drink, then Sulu rose. “I’ve got paperwork to fill out,” he said.

“Yeah, an’ I got me tutorin’ wit’ th’ chiot,” Del returned.

At the door, Sulu turned. “Hey, Del,” he said. “I’ll watch your back if you’ll watch mine.”

“That a done deal fo’ sure,” the engineer replied. “’Sides, it our destiny, non?”

Origination: U.S.S. Drake NCC 541
Command Office
CaptT.Sulu-S3419098/CMD

Terminus: U.S.S. Enterprise NCC 1701
Chief of Security
Cmdr.J.M.Paget-P4038751/SEC

Hey Jer,

Shit, have I got news.

I just finished briefing my senior staff on the latest information from the High Stakes. I know, I know, I shouldn’t be telling you this, but – hell, you’re Security and this is just too fucking unbelievable. We found another Slaver stasis box, and inside it was – Jesus, I m still not sure I can believe this – a corporeal Organian who had to be a million or more years old. And a Silmaril showed up – the same one who was on the Enterprise six years ago. See, there was a distress signal from the Lynx…

Hell, Jer, just read the Drake’s logs. I know you do.

Anyway, turns out what was going on was that Ilne – and maybe the rest of the Silmarils, I don’t know – are in this epic battle to – get this – knock out the Organian Peace treaty. Seems they think all this no-fighting shit is actually stunting our growth. And the corporeal Organian in the stasis box – well, because he’s still corporeal, he contained information that the Organians can use to stop the Silmarils, or that the Silmarils can use to interfere with the Organian Influence – which is what the High Stakes people call what keeps the Treaty enforced. Maybe both. Ilne sent the distress signal from the Lynx to get us to DiCenta, which would bring the High Stakes there because apparently Christy Chas – also known as Ballerina, by the way – can find stasis boxes.

Yeah. No shit.

And what the High Stakes had to report was that this Organian Influence is weakening – probably due to the aforementioned epic battle – and they had to warn the Federation because if it weakens enough, the Klingons will find out they can start attacking us again.

Why the Silmarils think this is a good thing is beyond me, but if it means I may actually get to break some Klingon skulls….

With a sigh, Sulu leaned back in his chair and hit the erase button on his recorder. He couldn’t tell Jeremy – or anyone – except Rhonda Brezshnova. The idea that there could be actual fighting between the Federation and the Klingons was just too sensitive. It would start a panic. And information about the Silmarils was above top secret, way beyond the security classification of anyone he knew. It was bad enough that he’d told his senior staff – and Del – but he wasn’t about to keep them in the dark anymore than he had to, especially since they’d all experienced it anyway. And Tharas must have had some reason for telling him in the first place.

He’d left out of his briefing the part about why the Silmarils were interfering, telling them only that the Organian Influence was weakening, and the Silmarils wanted to do something about it. He didn’t mention what they were planning to do or why they wanted the corporeal Organian in their powerful little hands. Who needed to know that they were the kind of parents who let their kids beat each other to bloody pulps just to teach them how to survive a fight? It certainly wasn’t something he wanted to know. And he and Del would never again talk about what the engineer had learned from his telepathic contact with the Organian – or what Ilne had said to them both.

Fate, he muttered to himself. Destiny.

He sighed.

Karma sucks.

M’rray and M’raan fawned over Christy when she and the others got back to the High Stakes, the big cats protectively making certain she was healthy and unharmed. Tharas grinned at them, and silently vanished down the corridor, somehow moving with a stealth out of place with his bulging body armor. Eontril and Rian also excused themselves, after giving matching warm smiles – no one needed to be told they’d be unavailable for some hours, locked in their shared cabin.

Christy did her best to reassure the Caitians, trying to excuse herself without seeming rude. She glanced anxiously after Tharas. Once the feline security team was convinced she had no hidden wounds, M’raan asked if she needed some meat or other sustenance, and Christy laughed and intimated she’d have herself a pizza once she’d had the chance to shower and relax a little. She got the impression they wanted to lick all the foreign smells off her body – a prospect she didn’t think of as entirely unpleasant. They finally agreed to let her out of their sight, and she hurried down the passageway toward the crew pods.

Mok was leaning against one bulkhead, trying his best to look nonchalant. “Hey, racer, back already?”

She stopped, and tsked at him. “Like you didn’t know. Softie.”

He shrugged. “Saran was monitoring things,” he admitted.

“You were worried?”

“Yeah. Treaty zone makes me twitchy.” He glanced in the general direction of the bridge. “We’re already moving out.”

She stepped closer to him. “Admit it, Mok. You were worried about me.” He grimaced, and she went on. “You don’t have to play it cool all the time.”

“Yeah, I do.” He sighed. “Habit, I suppose. Let me teach you to play poker, and you’ll understand.”

“I know how. Later, I’ll tell you about the games I played at the Clave. Fun stakes there.”

He smiled. “Why later?”

“Because – “ She paused. “You wouldn’t want to play poker with me, Mok. I’d beat the pants off you.”

He laughed. “I bet you would.”

“Yeah. You’re a good negotiator, but you’ve got a lousy poker face.” She hesitated again. “Why aren’t you with Kila? The crisis is over. I’d of thought you’d be jumping her bones by now.” Yes, Kila had teased Mok, implying she wasn’t willing. But they all knew better.

He glanced both ways down the corridor and lowered his voice. “Like I said before, I have to check on you guys. Guests on my boat. You know how it is.”

“You also said you weren’t going to mention that again.”

“Yeah. Well.” He pushed himself away from the wall. “This isn’t ‘again’. It’s still the same time. Havens don’t think of time the way you Earthies do.”

Christy giggled. “Go, Mok. Seduce your lover. She wants you, you know.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Who wouldn’t?” He turned and sauntered off.

She watched him go, briefly considering the joys of following him and setting up a threesome. But there’d be time for that, and she had something else that wouldn’t wait.

Moments later, she stood outside a stateroom door, and prepared herself so her knock would be firm and not at all hesitant. “Tharas?” she called.

“Come,” she heard the voice through the metal.

The room inside was dark. The temperature was significantly lower than that in the rest of the ship. She knew Tharas liked to relax in darkness and cold, and she’d always assumed that had something to do with Andorian insectoid metabolism. “Were you about to go to sleep?” she asked.

“No,” Tharas answered from somewhere across the cabin. “I knew you’d be coming. Make yourself comfortable. There’s a chair to your right.”

She found it, and sank into the plush cushions. “There’s some things I need to ask you.” He didn’t say anything, and she went on. “Like, how you knew I’d be coming.”

There was a rumbling chuckle. “You didn’t know that before you got here.”

“Yes, I sort of did. And I don’t know why. Like I don’t know why I knew about the stasis box. And like I know – that you know things.” He didn’t respond again. She took a deep breath, and when she exhaled, she could almost see her breath misting out from her mouth. “Everyone seems to be looking out for me. M’rray and M’raan, and Mok, and Eontril and Rian, and you, too. And I get the feeling you all know things that I don’t.”

“We’re older than you, girl. You didn’t mention Saran or Kila, I notice.”

“Yeah. You all are keeping things from us kids. Except we’re not kids any more. Tharas, we can take it. I promise you.” There was a beat of silence yet again. “We’re all here for a reason. What do you know that I don’t?”

“Lifetimes of experience. What do you expect me to tell you? Why don’t you go to Mok or Rian with your questions?”

“Because they all defer to you, even Mok, even the keheil. What do they know about you that I don’t?” She shook her head, frustrated. “Why did I know about the stasis box?”

“Why do you expect me to know the answer to that?”

“Because you do, scabdamn it!”

There was, again, the rumbling chuckle. “And there’s your answer, child. You know that I do. How do you know that?”

She cried out in exasperation. “That’s what I’m asking you!”

His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “Look inside yourself. Look at what you know. Look at who you are, and where you are. Follow the threads, child.”

Threads. Uncalled, a memory came to her, from years before, running a race from Terra to Mars. She’d taken a recreational chemical, and it had altered her awareness, and she’d had a vision of a spiderweb that held worlds like dewdrops, with things skittering across it. She shuddered, and pushed the memory away. “I know where I came from, and that’s about all. My mother is an admiral in Starfleet. I never knew my father.”

“Where are you at home?”

She blinked into the darkness. “I’ve always lived in space. At Fleet HQ, at the Clave, now here.”

“And you really don’t know your father? Think about it, child, who else lives in space?

She scowled. The only other beings she knew whose home was space were the Seeders. What was he trying to tell her? Seeders. There was something there. “You stayed behind with Ilne when the rest of us went to the planet.” She licked her lips, and they felt cold against her tongue. “I got the impression – that you knew her. Did she tell you something?” She heard what she was certain was another, repressed, rumbling chuckle. And something else – “She called me kor-ani. Rian said that means ‘niece’. Why did she call me that?”

For an instant, no more than a fraction of a heartbeat, she thought she saw a glowing image across the cabin, a man reclining on a couch, skin of purest silver, hair the color of moonlight, dark eyes that burned with the fire of Space, a form so perfect, so Adonis-like as to take her breath away. But it was gone, an imagined flash like the random fire of a neuron in the pitch black of the deepest cavern. She blinked, and rubbed her hand over her eyes.

“You’re tired, child,” Tharas said, and she was certain she could feel a sense of pride in his voice. “Big days need exhausting recreation. Go seduce your lovers. They want you, you know.”

Confused, she pushed herself to her feet. “Do Andorians need – recreation?”

The thunder of his laugh was the sound of a star going nova. “I left my mates elsewhere, and you’d find me – cold. Go. You’re well on your way to knowing everything you want anyway. And trust me, what you want now is them.”

He was right. Suddenly, she had an irrepressible urge to be engulfed in welcoming flesh, to have it fill her, and to fill them with her passion. She found the door, and stumbled out, blinking in the blinding light of the hallway, praying she’d find Mok’s cabin before she collapsed.

In the darkness, Tharas dialed the temperature of his cabin down to three degrees above absolute zero. He loosened the hold he held on his form, and allowed himself to flow back into his true body.

There was a shock of questioning mind, an awareness suddenly alerted to a change in the ether, and he smiled.

Are you well? Saran asked.

He filled himself with a sense of surprise at the young Vulcan’s touch. Don’t intrude, kid. Saran immediately withdrew, and he sank further into calm and peace.

Ilne, my love!

Rainen! Your daughter is lovely and strong and –

-- we wondered if it was possible.

And it is. My pride is unbounded!

As is mine! But oh my heart, our children squabble so!

As they must. They must be strong for what is to come.

Will they bear it?

If not, it will be as if we never were,

As if nothing ever was.

But for now, my love, nothing is. We touch

always touching

always touched

never parted

never and always

The End