Return to Valjiir Stories
“Love is but a song I sing
Fear’s the way we die…”
Ruth had appropriated the bozhier and had begun playing a sweet, simple melody. Moments into it, Del’s soft voice had begun singing. It surprised her because she’d been sure from the quiet in her own head that he’d been soundly asleep.
“You can make the mountains ring
Or make angels cry…”
Don’t cry, angel.
She glanced at him, but the engineer’s eyes were closed and there was no sense that he had sent the sentiment.
“Though the bird is on the wing
And you may not know why…”
Ruth joined in on the chorus.
“Come on, people, now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try to love one another right now.”
She glanced around the cabin. Sulu sprawled with Sakura and Jeremy, the yeoman’s head in his lap, his in Cobra’s. Madvig was on another set of pillows, talking quietly but earnestly with Chekov. Roger had one arm around Lace, the other around Daffy. Gollub’s eyes were closed, apparently blissfully. Phen and Ravi, Ruth knew, were in the cockpit, taking their turns at piloting the Shambala.
“Some may come and some may go
They will surely pass
When the ones that left us here
Return for us at last
We are but a moment’s sunlight
Fading in the grass…”
Jeremy’s deep voice and Lace’s breathy one helped repeat the song’s refrain.
“Come on people, now
Smile on your brother
Everybody get together
Try and love one another right now.”
Madvig suddenly locked gazes with Ruth, and the Antari carefully sent a helpful nudge of ‘we’re all in this together’ to the Sevrinite, then sang the last verse with Del.
“If you hear the song I sing
You will understand
Listen
You hold the key to love and fear
All in your trembling hand
Just one key unlocks them both
It’s there at your command…”
Before the final chorus could be sung, the dark-haired woman abruptly stood. “We’re going to be at our destination soon,” she said, and Ruth placed her hands over the strings of the bozhier to quiet it. “As our guests, we’ve welcomed you to a better way of life.” Madvig’s gaze swept over the Fleet people. “But now you’ve got to decide whether you’re running from something or to something.” Ruth noted the increased attentiveness of her fellow officers. “Our brother was with us before,” the Sevrinite continued, placing a caressing hand on Chekov’s head, “and I know he needs to see Irina, but the rest of you are free to choose. You’ve helped us, and we appreciate it, but there’s no coercion here.” She smiled. “If you reach, you’re more than welcome to join us. If you’re still connected to the Herberts…”
“Then that’s your karma, man,” Roger broke in.
“… well, we can’t chime with that,” Madvig continued as if her fellow hadn’t spoken. “If you need a little time to meditate on it…”
“Hell no, I in,” Del interrupted, though his voice was low and lazy. “I got all I want right here.” And he smiled at Ruth.
“I – uh…” Sulu began, then sat up, clearing his throat. “This has been great – “ He smiled at Sakura and Jeremy. “Really great… but I – sort of left someone back there, and…”
“Sledge it, lover,” Jeremy put in.
“You know she’d never reach all this,” Sakura added, softly running her fingers along the helmsman’s bare thigh.
“She’s too jacketed,” Jeremy rejoined with a caress of his own.
Sakura giggled. “Stiff as a Vulcan.”
Del snorted and Ruth tried hard not to frown. “Speaking of Vulcans,” she said instead, “I’ve got a husband who really might be able to chime with what you’re trying to do.” She caught the exchange of looks between Roger and Lace. “If I contact him, talk to him….”
“Let Fleet know where we are,” Roger muttered.
Daffy pushed his arm away from her shoulders with a disdainful, “Schmuck.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” Ruth protested.
“I rig a scrambler,” Del said and reached out, touching her face. “She not betray us,” he murmured, his dark eyes glowing. “Not fo' him.”
With a well-hidden grimace, Ruth smiled, and added a brief kiss for good measure.
It fo' show, I know, babe, Del sent gently, and in her mind it was colored in deep blue.
“I’d still like to take a little time,” Sulu stated, then grinned at Jeremy and Sakura. “Maybe let myself be convinced…?”
“Give us ten seconds,” Jeremy assured.
“Cut with the melodrama already,” Daffy broke in. “We all knew what we were doing when we did it.”
“You don’t sound too happy about that, sister,” Madvig observed.
Daffy shrugged. “Give me enough Rigellian and I’m happy with just about anything.”
Chekov spoke for the first time. “This much is true,” he said.
Ruth winced at the glare Daffy threw at him.
“Well, I really want you all to take some time,” Madvig said. “This is an important decision. It may be the most important one of your lives.”
“If it’s that important…” Jeremy began.
“What’s important is that we can all truly be One,” Roger intoned.
“Oy,” Daffy sighed.
“… we’ll all talk it over and give you our decisions in the morning,” Jeremy finished.
“I can chime with that,” Madvig replied happily. She bent down, giving Chekov an affectionate kiss. “Tell them about it, brother,” she murmured, her eyes shining. “Tell them how it was.” She straightened, gesturing to Roger and Lace. “Let’s leave them now. No pressure, no coercion.” Then she smiled and left the main cabin. Roger and Lace also rose, and with a gesture of “One”, they, too, left the room.
“Any results on the drugs for me yet?” Paget asked Daffy quietly as the Federation officers gathered following the exit of their Sevrinite hosts.
“Nothing unexpected so far,” she replied shortly, “but I’ve got several tests still running.”
“Taking their sweet time, aren’t they?”
“Sorry, Mr. Super-Spy, but a tricorder a little bigger than your thumb just doesn’t work as well as a regular one.”
“As always,” Jer sighed, “size does matter.”
“Spike, are you really gonna try and get Spock in on this?” Sulu asked softly as the group met near the center of the room.
“We talked about it,” Ruth returned. “It would be a real coup for The Cause.”
“The only problem bein’ we’d lose our contact with the Enterprise,” Jeremy put in.
“But Mr. Spock’s assistance would be invaluable,” Pavel stated.
“Brown nose,” Daffy muttered. “Why don’t you tell us all how it was, bubee?”
The navigator glared at his lover defiantly. “It was horrible and senseless and stupid, that is how it was,” he answered.
“Give it a rest, you two,” Sakura advised.
“And it would be the final, convincing act for our charade,” Ruth rejoined as if the conversation between Daffy and Pavel hadn’t taken place.
“But do we need one?” Sulu wondered. “I mean, except for Stupid Roger, I don’t think anyone still suspects anything.”
“And there ain’t no way Stupid Roger’ll be convinced of anything he don’t wanna be,” Jeremy said.
“Omein, brother,” Daffy added.
“I think, Ruth,” Sakura said carefully, “that the appearance of your trying to convince Commander Spock to join us would be enough, even for Roger.”
“It be enough fo' me,” Del mumbled.
“There is one other problem with it,” Sulu began. “And I’m sorry to be the one to point it out, but…” He took a breath. “Ruth, if Spock were to join us, that would leave Del pretty much Loony-fodder. You two are supposed to be lovers.”
“Unless you can get your ever-lovin’ Vulcan husband to play at a threesome,” Daffy added with a not-at-all-charming show of teeth.
“That would hardly be appropriate, Daphne,” Pavel reprimanded sternly.
“And your screwing Irina the Eden-head goddess will be, right?” Daffy snapped.
“I have been told,” Chekov returned, glancing sharply at Jeremy, “that I must do whatever is necessary for our mission to be successful.”
“And you’ll just hate it, won’t you?”
“Daffy, shut up,” Jeremy interjected.
“How come I’m the only one who has to make sacrifices here?” the chemist demanded.
“Daffy, you’re hardly…” Ruth began.
“Yeah? When you can give Mr. Amber here a little taste of home whenever he wants?”
“Hey, that’s not fair…” Sulu broke in.
“And you get your telepathic jollies just as easily,” Daffy continued to Ruth. “Cobra and Gypsy have each other to play with while they pretend to play with LeRoi, and Cajun can fuck anybody who can stand his a) nasty, foul-tempered soul or b) deep blue coma. What do I get?”
“Daphne!” Pavel exclaimed, genuinely wounded.
“Mister Brooding Russian who’s either so anguished over having to possibly deceive his precious first love or too damn busy being oh-so-fucking-holier-than-God-Himself to make this fucking assignment even a little fucking easier on the woman he’s supposed to love!”
Daffy stormed out of the cabin, pausing just before she would’ve disappeared into one of the curtained-off areas. “I’m in to the bitter end, oh great and wise Mission Commander,” she said to Jeremy, “but I don’t have to like it!”
After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Del crossed his arms and turned to Chekov. “You oughta go fuck her so she shut up.”
With a growl the Russian turned on the Cajun and would have done more had Sulu not grabbed his arms to hold him back. Instead, the navigator spat out a long, empathic declaration in his native language before shaking the helmsman off and stalking out of the room in the direction of the Shambala’s bridge.
DelMonde turned to Paget. “Bet you never heard no one bein' told to fuck off in Russian before,non?”
“Not quite like that,” Jeremy returned, impressed.
“For an atheist, he do tend to use a lot o' religious imagery, don’t he?”
Paget whistled softy. “That part about Lucifer’s left ball was just disturbing.”
“The boy in a creative mood,” DelMonde confirmed, then turned to three angry pairs of eyes observing him. “What?”
“Gee, Del,” Sakura said, “odd to say this to a sensitive, but that was pretty insensitive.”
“Oh, c’mon,” Del replied. “You know y'all agree wit' Jer – if Chekov an' Daffy don’t break up an' stay broke up, they gonna screw this whole t'ing.”
“So you were just helping them stay broken up?” Sulu asked with a frown.
“You know good an' damn well he was 'bout to go after her,” the Cajun retorted.
“Del, are you still reading him?” Paget asked slowly. “And me?”
“Shit,” Del dismissed the notion. “In this blue fog, I not read a billboard.”
“Because I don’t think I’ve said anything about wanting to break up Chekov and Daffy.”
“Yeah, ya did. You said it when.…” Del faltered as his confidence in his own memory ebbed. “Well, maybe last night…”
“Last night I might have said something about wanting you to do the thing that Chekov thinks you regularly do for Satan’s privates, but I don’t think I said anything to anyone about the mission.”
“Shield, Del!” Ruth finally exploded. “For Zehara’s sake, shield!”
“I can’t do no more than I doin' right now!” he exploded back at her.
“You can’t keep expecting that I can handle…”
“What I expect o' you?” he interrupted bitterly. “What I expect o' you? Well, girl, I not know what you expect o' me, but listen to me when I tell ya I can’t fuckin' do no more. I not an Antari or a fuckin' Vulcan who can jus' turn the fuckin' 'on' or 'off' switch…”
“You don’t even try!” Tears of frustration with the accumulated difficulties of the past few days had gathered in Ruth’s eyes and were flowing freely down her cheeks. “You don’t care who you hurt. You don’t care and you don’t try. You’re the one who doesn’t try to make things easier on anyone. Especially not me.”
Despite the sapphire that should have been numbing him, DelMonde’s eyes were also glistening now. “Don’t say I not care when you know I…”
“Del,” Sulu interrupted, placing a comforting hand on the Antari’s arm. “Ruth. Stop. We’ve got to…”
As Chekov had moments before, Valley shook the helmsman off and turned in the direction of one of the privacy rooms. “Ship’s calling. I’ve got to be alone.”
“Screw this,” DelMonde muttered, wiping his eyes on his sleeve as he strode away in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?” Paget asked as the Cajun paused to grab a one of the Russian’s bottles of liquor.
“To Hell, apparently,” Del replied, before disappearing down the exit leading to the engine room. “From what Chekov say, at leas' I got some friends there!”
In the silence that followed, Tamura blew out a long breath.
“That went well,” she commented.
Madvig, Diona, and Lace entered from the cockpit.
“Chekov told us you’d come to a decision,” Madvig said, looking around for the members of the group that she hadn’t expected to be absent.
“Yes,” Sulu said brightly, as he and his remaining compatriots quickly put on the nearest semblance of smiles that they could muster on such short notice.
“Yes, indeed,” Paget said, making the “One” sign.
Sulu followed suit and hoped his next statement wouldn’t come out sounding too ironic. “We’re all in perfect harmony.”
I don’t know if I can handle this! Ruth wailed silently to her husband. Del’s just so… Del, and Pavel and Daffy are fighting and Jeremy thinks that’s a good thing but she’s so hurt and he’s really not getting into the spirit of things at all and it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours and Roy’s already starting to get edgy again which makes no sense, I mean I know he loves Jilla and all and he’s never been good at celibacy but Jesus twenty-four hours and I miss you so much and I want you here and I can’t believe I ever agreed to this stupid mission!
Spock took several deep, calming breaths, sending control and relaxation to his wife through their link. You are not the mission commander, he reminded gently. You need not solve every difficulty, nor concern yourself with every detail. You need only provide contact between the Enterprise and your party, and keep up your own charade.
And provide the keheil mating service, Ruth returned bitterly.
Mr. Sulu can certainly fend for himself, Spock began.
Not if we want Jilla to live.
There was a pause in the mental communication. Is the situation that serious?
If he keeps taking amber like it was candy, yeah. And he has to keep taking amber like it was candy or the Sevrinites will know something’s up.
Is it possible for you to mitigate some of the chemical’s effects?
I thought you said I didn’t have to solve every difficulty.
You do not. However, if this can be done, it will eliminate the need for Sulu’s intimate contact with Jilla, will it not?
Not eliminate, never, but – I see what you mean. He wouldn’t be putting so much pressure on me.
Spock frowned. Dei’larr’ei, you are certainly entitled to bring such ‘pressure’ to the attention of Mr. Paget.
Well… Roy doesn’t know he’s doing it, Ruth explained sheepishly. It’s all empathic. It’s just what I pick up. And Jeremy has enough problems without having to yell at Sulu. She paused thoughtfully. Though it might do his own lovesick heart some good.
I take it the situation is much more complex than we had anticipated, Spock said.
Ruth sighed. I just wish it wasn’t taking so long. Oh, and by the way, we’ll be reaching our destination – wherever that is – within the next hour or so.
The Diana gave us your present position, Spock affirmed. Given the maximum speed of the Shambala, there are a limited number of inhabitable worlds within that time frame.
Good. I’ll take a turn on the bridge and let you know our heading. Ruth sighed again. I miss you. I miss your arms around me. I miss your warmth next to me in bed. I miss…
As do I, beloved. But I beg you, do not go on. The longing is already quite acute.
Ruth snorted. And we were chiding Roy? She felt the agreeing amusement in her husband’s mind. Thanks for letting me rant, beloved. I feel better.
It is always my intention to be of assistance to you, my wife. Ruth felt Spock’s mental concentration fading, then it returned. Jilla asks that you send Mr. Sulu her love.
Will do. Say hi to her for me, and tell her Roy’s been good as gold.
After another pause, Spock’s mental voice said, She says she has no doubt of that. Until our next scheduled contact, my wife, fare well.
And you, my husband, Ruth returned, then sighed, rubbing her temples as the contact dissipated. She decided to do a quick mental check of her fellow officers, and was hit with a wall of solid blue.
An’ stay out! Del’s voice thundered.
I was just checking… she began.
T’hell wit’ that, came back at her. You leave us all alone an’ we do jus’ fine.
Del, this is a part of my job… she tried again.
An’ fuck that too. You make your li'l reports to your damn husband an' leave the rest o' the mission to those of us who good at it. A fiercely evil chuckle sounded in her head, and Del’s mental presence was gone, though the blue wall remained.
“Spock?” Jilla questioned softly as the Vulcan’s concentration returned to his present surroundings. His tia was concerned and she knew there were things regarding the undercover assignment that he was not telling her. “Is all well?”
“As can be expected,” the First Officer replied. “Our party has been accepted by the Sevrinites and are to be taken to what we presume is their headquarters sometime within the next hour. Ruth will be able to give us a better idea of their heading soon.”
“And?” the Indiian continued. Her anxiety heightened when he sighed.
“There are the anticipated difficulties, which,” he added quickly, “are being handled in such a way as to give all necessary appearances to the Sevrinites. It is, according to Ruth, stressful, but not unmanageable.”
“How much longer…” Jilla began.
“Unknown, Lieutenant.”
The engineer bowed her head in acknowledgement. “My thanks for allowing me personal communication to Sulu,” she said.
“You are most welcome, rilain,” Spock returned. “If you will excuse me, I must make my report to the Captain.”
Jilla nodded and left the Vulcan’s office. She reached up, clasping the silver ring that hung from a chain about her neck. She had, of course, been completely honest when telling Ruth, through Spock, that she trusted Sulu’s fidelity. Her only concern was for what that fidelity was costing him. Buddha, keep him safe, she prayed, and shuddered with the emptiness that, after the thing they did not speak of, without his tia was still too close.
Daffy Gollub turned at the sound of someone entering the room. “Not who I was expecting,” she said, swiping at her eyes as she rose from the bed.
“Sorry.” Jeremy Paget apologized without making any move to leave.
She gave him a forbidding frown. “Not ready to talk.”
“So the tests are still running?” Paget asked with very deliberate denseness.
“Oh, right…” Gollub reached under the mattress for the mini-tricorder and consulted it. “Well, ready to talk about that.”
“So talk.” Jeremy sat down on the bed, maintaining a carefully neutral distance. “What are the Loonies adding to their dope?”
“A couple different things.” Daffy retrieved a discarded piece of clothing and used it to blow her nose. “Mostly Catullan.”
“No surprise there since the Catullan ambassador’s son is one of their high-ups. That does confirm that they are maintaining some sort of tie to Catulla, though…”
“One that’s friendly enough to allow for regular exports if this batch of pills is any indicator,” Gollub replied, scrolling through the readings.
“What about the sapphire?”
“All the Haven drugs are cut with xenoneurophene.”
“Xenoneurophene,” Paget whistled. “The strange brain drug.”
“Yep.” Daffy used a tool that looked a lot like a straight pin to input a command into the mini-tricorder. “The dose of the original Haven chemical cocktail is actually pretty small, but it feels powerful because the brain is dealing with all that xenoneurophene strangeness.”
“It heightens extra sensory perception among people who are already gifted, doesn’t it?” Paget asked, being careful not to sound like someone with a medical degree.
“Maybe.” Gollub shrugged. “I mean, yeah, that’s what I’ve heard too, but since xenoneurophene is very illegal and fairly dangerous -- particularly to people with extrasensory abilities -- there’s not a lot of credible documentation of the precise effect it has on brain chemistry.”
“Dangerous? I thought the only danger was that people with mild extrasensory abilities sometimes temporarily go not so mild.”
“People with little training or control suddenly being able brain-zap or mind-fuck anyone at will comes under my definition of dangerous, Jer.”
“But there’s no tissue damage from the xenoneurophene, right?”
“No,” Gollub confirmed. “If you don’t go all power mad and evil and have to be shot down like a rabid bull elephant, then yeah, it wears off.”
“Hmmm.” Paget took a moment to consider the implications of this information.
Daffy deactivated the tiny tricorder and held it out to the Security officer. “Are we done? Because I have some crying my eyes out to get back to. My self-pity won’t wallow in itself, you know.”
Paget drew in a deep breath. “Daf…”
“Oh,” Gollub groaned. “And now with the lecture.”
“I’m not going to lecture you…” Jeremy began.
“Oh? You want that I should give it myself? Fine.” Gollub put a hand on his shoulder and tilted her head, mimicking Paget’s posture. “Blah, blah, responsibility. Blah, blah, sacrifice. Greater good. Duty. Blah, blah, blah,” she sermonized, lowering her voice and imitating his characteristic hand gestures. “So straighten up, missy, ‘cause I will kick that ass if I have to.” She sat back and crossed her arms. “How was that?”
“Well, you do seem to have the gist of it,” Paget admitted. “Although lacking in some of my more subtle rhetorical flare.”
“So are we done now?”
“That depends on whether or not you paid attention to my beautifully delivered lecture.”
Gollub sighed wearily. “I understand why all this is happening, Jer. I just don’t like it.”
Paget put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a sympathetic kiss on the forehead. “I’m not asking you to, honey.”
Daffy turned to him, her eyes filling with tears again. “Do you understand what you are asking me to do, Jer?”
“Yeah,” he said, giving her a final affectionate squeeze before rising. “I’m asking you to straighten up and fly right, missy. ‘Cause you know I will kick that ass if I have to.”
“Am I crossing you, brother?”
Diona’s soft voice echoed in the stairway to the Shambala’s engine room.
Noel DelMonde shrugged and took another sip from his bottle. “It your ship, sugar.”
“I’m happy you’ve decided to join us,” the Sevrinite said, settling herself on a step just below him.
DelMonde smiled sourly. “Wonderful, ain’t it?”
“I know it’s not easy,” the red-head gave him a comforting pat on the knee, “but it’s the right decision.”
“Yeah, sure,” Del replied without enthusiasm.
They sat silently for a few moments listening to the descending hum and whir of the Shambala’s engines as the ship changed speed.
After a few moments, Diona looked up at him and smiled. “Last night was really special.”
“Yeah,” Del answered shortly, wishing that Chekov had been able to find a better selection of liquor. “It was thrillin’.”
She lightly caressed his thigh. “You’re really special.”
“Yeah,” the engineer agreed caustically. “I Mr. Wonderful. Ask anyone.”
“What I mean is, you’re an esper, right?”
DelMonde looked down, truly paying attention to her for the first time since she’d arrived. “I ain’t heard it called that in a long time.”
“There was a guy…” Diona began, her voice sounding wistful. “He and I were… Well, I’m not an esper, but I’ve had done what we did last night before.”
“Well, good fo' you, sugar,” the engineer said, toasting her ironically with his bottle.
“It was.” The Sevrinite smiled at the memory. “I really like that… I like to have a man inside me like that.”
“Yeah, I notice.”
“Inside my head like that.”
He frowned a little at his own recollection. “I notice that too.”
“You’re stronger now than Jonehez was when he joined…”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you’ll get stronger fast…” she promised, then added significantly, “If that’s what you want.”
“Listen, girlie,” the Cajun said, removing her hand from his knee. “I not know what you talkin’ ‘bout, but I not interested in becomin’ any more of a monster than I already am.”
“Good.” Diona’s smile became brighter. She drew a bottle of light blue pills from a pocket and held them out. “These will help.”
DelMonde took the bottle almost as a reflex. “Help what?”
“Help you rest when you need to,” she promised. “Gets rid of distractions. Helps you focus and stay strong.”
“I got sapphire fo' that,” he replied, handing the pills back to her.
“This is better.” Diona coaxed his fingers closed around the bottle once more. “Trust me.”
A bell began to ring. It took Del a minute to figure out that the Sevrinites had set the ship’s alarm system to sound like gongs.
“We’re here!” The Sevrinite took his hand and rose, eagerly urging the Cajun to his feet.
“We where?”
Diona smiled beatifically. “Dreamland.”
The place the Sevrinites called Dreamland Base turned out to be what Chekov had tersely identified to Paget as an abandoned supply station anchored on the edge of a small asteroid field in the Beta Navarre system.
Although by no means a primordial paradise, it made a lot of sense to Jeremy that the Sevrinites would choose such a structure as a base of operations. Federation space was littered with hundreds of similar derelicts. Pre-fab heavy industrial space stations were cheaper to build than they were to demolish and haul away. Therefore if an asteroid field played out, the mining company went bust, or a local system passed environmental protection ordinances against such operations, supply stations like this one were often simply left to float in space.
If the internal systems were still in decent shape, Dreamland Base had the potential to be an ideal hideout. Local inhabited star systems usually ignored or tacitly welcomed peaceful squatters in derelict space stations, preferring to have devils they knew become neighbors rather than devils they didn’t. In the event of an attack or raid, Paget had no doubt that the nearby asteroid field offered a wealth of temporary hiding places.
When the Shambala’s hatches opened and the gangway was lowered, what Paget would have liked to have seen was a unified group of Enterprise officers saying and doing things that would reassure their hosts of their new-found commitment to the Sevrinite cause. What he got was wounded silence after having to force them to get within a fifty foot radius of one another. He and Sulu had practically had to drag Daffy and Ruth from the respective corners of the ship to which they had retreated. Madvig and Diona had obligingly done the same for Chekov and DelMonde without being asked. Jeremy noted that the Sevrinite ladies maintained a firm grip on the Enterprise men as they maneuvered them down the gangway, as if they feared their wayward charges might bolt at a moment’s notice.
Looking into the eager, smiling faces of those gathered to meet them, Paget felt a brief stab of apprehension. Would his group of Starfleet officers be able to blend in with this motley crew? He glanced back at his comrades, remembering the fresh-faced and clean-cut group he’d assembled at Starbase 9. They’d managed to pass as ex-Starfleet officers on the skids well enough with the Shambala’s crew, but would they be able to maintain that cover for a much larger, more critical audience?
Ruth and Daffy’s eyes were red-rimmed from crying. Sakura’s were red because she was stoned. Del looked drunk. Chekov looked hung over. Sulu’s nonverbals had the unnatural quickness of an amber addict starting to need a good fix.
Paget sighed. Am I good at my job or what? he asked himself ironically.
They were led from the landing bay into a spacious cargo bay all rigged out in the shabby-chic, pillow and flower friendly, eco-tech style evidently preferred by their Edenhead hosts.
En route, Paget got close enough to Del, who had somehow managed to pry Diona from his side, to quietly order. “Stay off the sapphire.”
“What?”
“No sapphire. I’ll explain later.” Seeing Sulu was within earshot, he added for good measure, “And no amber, either.”
“Hold on, son.” Del stopped, his face full of rebellious disbelief. “At this point, you don’t jus’ say that an' walk away.”
“But I am.” Jeremy smiled a very firm smile as Lace urged him forward and a new Loonie came forward to attach herself to the engineer. “Deal with it.”
The resident Sevrinites greeted both the newcomers and their returning comrades with equal enthusiasm, joyfully flashing “One” signs at each other between hugs.
Paget noted that his people were lax in returning this gesture, responding either slowly, without enthusiasm, or in a few cases not at all. He silently put additional black marks next to a few names on the “Working Their Way Towards a Good Ass Kicking” list. Outwardly he strove to lead by example, hugging and greeting as earnestly as he was hugged and greeted.
As the blur of long-haired, flower-draped, smiling Loonies clarified, Paget was surprised to note that not one of the potential leaders that had been identified in their briefing was present. Was something else going down or were they just too important to serve on the Welcome Wagon?
“Isn’t this place just the most transcendent?” Lace asked breathlessly, beaming at him as the crowd began to dissipate and wander back to their regular tasks.
“It’s perfect,” Paget beamed back at her.
“Care for a tour?”
“Sure.”
“I’m famished,” Sulu interjected quickly. “I think I’ll stay here and get something to eat. You hungry, Chekov?”
“Yes,” the navigator answered, as the helmsman was 99% sure he would – whether or not he actually wanted to eat.
Sulu read the ‘Good boy!’ in Jer’s smile as clearly as if Paget had said it aloud. The two of them had agreed on the Shambala that if there was any chance of having Daffy out of the picture when Chekov reunited with Irina Galliulin, they were to take it – or make it happen.
Ruth and Del shared a glare.
“I’ll go,” she said simultaneous to his announcement of, “I stay.”
“Cute,” Daffy commented.
Ruth frowned, “Not really.”
“Okay, then,” Lace said brightly. “Rog, would you take them around and explain things?”
”Why do I always have to be the one to give the rules speech?” the Sevrinite complained sourly.
“Because you’re the only one who likes to,” Lace replied, giving him an affectionate kiss. “And it’s not so much rules, really as guidelines, you know….”
“Oh, no,” Roger said, gesturing the group towards one of the lift terminals. “Don’t let her give you the wrong idea. There are rules. Just because we believe in communal living doesn’t mean we believe in anarchy…”
”And now the fun begins,” Daffy said as they entered the lift car.
“There are safe areas on this station and unsafe areas.” Stupid Roger was already warming to his topic. “And since we do live communally, everyone has duties and responsibilities…”
“I just love being a tourist, don’t you?” Ruth was saying to Sakura with a big fake smile as the doors closed.