Ani Ramy had backed as far away from Chekov as the small room would allow, which just happened to be the bulkhead nearest the transport platform itself. Kam sauntered around the room, keeping an eye on Jilla, but eventually made his way next to the Antari.

So why is it, he thought casually, that Del hasn’t figured out what we’re up to?

He watched as ani Ramy picked at her fingernails, then heard in short, floaty bursts, Testing. Testing. Del? Come in, Del.

He glanced at the tall, dark figure, all his senses extended. There was not the smallest flicker of response from the Cajun.

Pasha’s little null self seems to be working, he thought.

Fortunately for us, Daffy’s more paranoid about Del than she is about us, so she’ll keep the little abomination near him, the Antari responded, – which means you and I can talk if we’re not too close to it.

So answer the question, Kam said.

About why he isn’t suspicious? I could say it’s my irresistible charm, but…

You’d be lying, Kam interrupted.

Ani Ramy giggled. Well, no, I am irresistible, but he doesn’t like to use his telepathy.

I thought he was smarter than that.

He likes to think he’s observant and calculating and coldly intelligent – which he is – but he gives all that the credit for his knowing how to use people. He doesn’t want to attribute it to his gifts. Her mental voice paused, and when it continued, it was rich with amusement. A small flaw, non?

No, not small at all, Kam chuckled. And we’re just that competent at acting, are we?

I was being bratty and flighty, and that’s what I am, and you were being cryptic and sarcastic, and that’s what you are, so why would he think we were acting?

Good point, Kam conceded. He was silent for a moment, then ventured, How can you be so certain this is gonna work? The last time they thought they had a solvent that would reintegrate us, we got twin Cajuns.

But this is my – well, her solvent, not Little Miss Oy Vey I’m So Wounded I Won’t Let Anyone Else Close To Me Ever Again. And I’ve said all along… the purple eyes gleamed at him … I could have fixed this anytime I wanted to. It just took the Human half of me a little longer to figure it out.

Kam’s laughter was full and rich, though silent. And here I thought you meant some fantastic secret Antari power.

The Antari preened, then, as DelMonde’s head turned toward her, blew him an encouraging kiss.

Ruth walked with her arm around Jilla, Spock on the other side of the Indiian, holding tightly to her left hand. Noel spoke in low comforting murmurs to a trembling Sulu as Jeremy helped his best friend remain upright. Jade and McCoy followed, having called the captain, and were joined by him at the lift outside the transporter room.

“Now that jus’ too precious,” DelMonde commented as the group entered the already crowded room. Sulu let out a sharp hiss and started to turn, only to be held by Jeremy’s strong, soothing embrace.

“Th’ transporter workin’?” Noel asked, ignoring his counterpart.

“We’ve just finished up, lad,” Scotty said as he wiped the solvent off his hands.

“This had better work,” the captain muttered.

“Don’t you trust me, Jimmy?” ani Ramy breathed with a flutter of eyelashes.

“I certainly don’t,” Jade replied with cool reserve.

“No need to,” the Human Ruth assured. “This is my fix, not hers.”

“And you think she can’t mess with you?” Kam said, folding his arms and staring at both her and the Human Spock. “Or that I won’t if you don’t let go of my Indiian?”

“We were just giving her the strength she needs to…” Spock began, and his Vulcan self interrupted with,

“Your constant jealousy speaks of an underlying insecurity that is as inappropriate as it is unnecessary.”

“Says the man who is constantly reminding his wife of that fact,” Kam retorted.

“Unlike Jilla, my wife refuses to acknowledge…”

“Enough,” Jim interrupted. “Let’s get on with this.”

DelMonde was staring at ani Ramy, his eyes narrowing. She blinked, and gave him a sweet smile.

“Is there something you want to say before we part?” she asked.

A growl came from the Vulcan Spock’s throat as Del said, with fierce intensity. “This best work, cher.”

The Antari heard Kam’s chuckle in her head, and moved toward Del, leaning in to let her lips brush against his. “I have no doubts,” she whispered.

She vanished just before Spock’s arms closed on hers, reappearing again at the door. Her hand went to her forehead.

“Damn, that’s hard to do with an abomination in the room,” she quipped.

“Abomination?” the Indiian Jilla asked softly.

“Never mind,” Ruth comforted.

“She never does,” Jeremy added with a rueful grin.

“At least we know it’s the Indian who’s so adorable,” the Human Spock put in.

“Would you like a mouthful of adorable?” Kam asked with harsh pleasantness.

“I thought I said get on with it,” Jim broke in, his voice stern and authoritative.

“Noel, if you and – DelMonde’ll get on the platform…” Scotty said, gesturing.

“Y’know,” DelMonde said as he complied, “life be much easier if you jus’ accept me.”

Noel took his place, murmuring, “I could say th’ same t’ing t’ you.”

Fierce black eyes met calm, warm brown as Scott announced, “Energizing,” and everyone in the room held their breaths.

When only one Noel DelMonde rematerialized on the transporter pads, Jeremy let out a whoop of exultation. Del fell to his knees, one hand going to the deck to support himself, the other coming up to his head.

“Del?” the Human Ruth asked softly, and he grimaced, glancing up at her.

“Are you whole, Mr. DelMonde?” Jade put in, moving toward him.

“Fuck, this hurts!” he muttered. “Stop t’inkin’ so damn loud!”

“Are both of you in there?” McCoy wanted to know.

“Shee-it, y’all jus’ back th’ fuck up!” Del growled.

Ani Ramy closed her eyes, then said with bright assurance. “Yep, he’s all back together.”

DelMonde’s head jerked up, and he hissed, “You tricked me?” Then he bolted from the room.

“I’ll go after him,” McCoy said. “Jade, you stay in case the others need your help.”

“You tricked him?” Jeremy repeated incredulously.

Ani Ramy shrugged. “It was easy. Come on, Kam, let’s finish this.”

“Wait,” Jim said. “What the hell is going on?”

“His dark half couldn’t be trusted,” Kam answered. “It was necessary for him to believe we were planning on destroying our weaker halves in order to get him in here.”

“And why aren’t you?” the captain pressed.

“Jade was convinced that without them, we’d die,” was the calm response. “And while I don’t generally trust doctors…” He grinned at Jade’s sudden flush. “Added, of course, to the fact that the Zehara was ready to force the situation anyway. I’m a lot of things, Jim, and practical is one of them.”

“And she’s afraid to face the Zehara,” the Human Ruth Valley continued, staring at her counterpart. “She always has been.”

“You can shut up now, Human,” the Antari hissed.

“I personally don’t give a good goddamn about the reasons,” Jeremy said, guiding Sulu to the platform. “We need to save Jilla and Sulu.”

“And you never have to worry about not seeing me again,” Kam told him as he joined his counterpart. “I’ll always be around.”

A moment of silent communication passed between him and the TerAfrican, resulting in Jeremy’s looking quickly away and Kam grinning fiercely. Unexpectedly, Sulu clung desperately to his other self, his eyes tightly closed.

Ani Ramy moved to one of the transporter pads, as did the Vulcan Spock. Their Human halves helped the Indiian onto the platform as the other Jilla also took her place, the Indiian shrinking from her Vulcan counterpart, who responded to the display with a raised, curious eyebrow.

Ruth stood next to the Antari, but she only had eyes for the Human Spock, who was taking his place next to his Vulcan self.

“I love you!” she whispered desperately.

“You will see me again, beloved,” he answered with a tender smile.

“I may be sick,” ani Ramy muttered, “Can we please get on with it?”

The Vulcan Spock stiffened, but did not otherwise react.

“Energize,” Jim said and Scotty complied.

The rematerialization took long enough that those left in the transporter room were beginning to worry. But when four columns of sparkle solidified into four familiar figures – Sulu with military-length hair, Jilla with silver skin and pointed ears, Ruth looking Antari and Spock appearing Vulcan – there was an involuntary cheer from everyone there.

Sulu and Jilla immediately sought each other, clutching fervently, whispers of sorrow and regret and renewed adoration passing between them. Spock cleared his throat, then said, tentatively, “My wife, you are well?”

Ruth flushed. “I’m fine, husband,” she assured.

“You’re all coming to Sickbay,” Jade informed them.

“I don’t need…” Ruth began.

“Doctor, I am quite myself,” Spock put in.

“Dr. Han, what we need is…” Sulu added.

“A clean bill of psychological health,” Jade broke in firmly.

“Mr. Chekov, will you beam down to Theraxa 3 and inform them we’ll have a solvent for their machinery as well a corrective biological agent in a few hours?” Jim said.

Chekov nodded, with a curt, “Aye, sir.”

“And Mr. Paget,” Kirk continued, “if you’ll return to the Hood with the formulas to decontaminate their transporters, we’ll send someone over to the Constitution.”

Jeremy glanced at Sulu and received a swift, grateful acknowledgement in a flash of dark eyes.

“Aye, Captain,” he said.

As Jade herded her patients to the door, Chekov called, “Ruth, will you be so kind as to explain your use of the word ‘abomination’?”

Daffy looked between them, noting Ruth’s flush, and patted the Russian on the arm.

“Later, bubee,” she said for her friend.

Del almost made it to the turbolift before his roiling stomach betrayed him and spilled its contents onto the deck in front of the lift. Twin memories pounded in his head, neither of them anything he ever wanted to know. He rubbed at his left pinky, desperate for the feel of the imaginary ring to be gone from him, shaking his head to lose the likewise imaginary feel of dreadlocks against his cheek.

She tricked me! roared inside him, the bitter anger coupled with immense relief. The knowledge of how and why she was able to do so burned within him. It was because he – all of him, every particle, down to the last thought and smallest breath – loved all of her. Not even his dark, selfish self could believe she would betray him. Leave him, yes, fall in love with the damned Vulcan, yes, but never, never betray him.

He heard a soft voice above him, calling for Maintenance to clean up the mess, then felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“You all right, son?” Leonard McCoy murmured.

“No more,” Del gasped. “Len – no more!”

“Come on, let’s get you to that SD chamber,” McCoy said, sliding his arms under Del’s to help him to his feet.

“Won’t help,” the engineer managed. “It not comin’ from outside.” He glanced up into concerned, blue eyes.

“What can I do for you, then?” the doctor asked.

“Get me to my cabin,” Del rasped. “Bring me my guitar from Sickbay. An’ make sure ever’one leaves me th’ fuck alone!”

“You sure you don’t need me to run a quick scan…” McCoy began, then fell silent at the ferocity in Del’s black eyes. “All right, son,” he finished. “But you call me if you need anything, y’hear?”

Del nodded and let McCoy guide him into the lift. He kept his eyes closed while they walked together to his cabin, then threw himself onto the bed. When the doctor left to get his guitar, he opened his nightstand drawer, got two hits of sapphire and reached for the bottle of bourbon beside his bed. His eye caught the one of red wine, and he picked it up, throwing it against the bulkhead with a satisfying crash.

“I’m sorry, hon, I’m so, so sorry…” Sulu murmured as he walked with Jilla to Sickbay. His arm was around her waist, keeping her so close to him that walking was awkward, and he was grateful that her normal reticence for such public displays seemed to be in abeyance.

The Vulcan is still getting control of all those wild, Indiian emotions, chuckled within him, and he shuddered. He’d have to deal with all Kam had done, even if he couldn’t exactly remember what that was…

You’re welcome, returned the taunting voice, then was gone with the sound of wind rustling in a bamboo forest.

“You did nothing wrong, Sulu,” Jilla whispered.

“That can’t be true,” he answered.

“I have never lied to you, my love. Jeremy kept the darkness that lies within you from acting on your desires.”

Sulu shuddered again. “I don’t know how you can love me,” he rasped.

She said nothing, but her voice came to his mind as clearly as if she were speaking aloud. You know I hurt. You know I am frightened and empty and you know it will never go away, yet you want me. You want my love, you want me with you. You know it cannot last forever, still you hold to me, and ask me to hold to you as long as I can. You know I must face Aema, yet you ask it not be today, nor tomorrow. You know Selar waits, and when Roshi returns, he will have me for all eternity, yet you ask me to stay with you until then. That is why I love you.

He swallowed, tears filling his eyes as emotion and memory overwhelmed him. “I said that, didn’t I?” he murmured.

Her eyes gazed up at him, not at all startled that he had apparently heard her thoughts.

The darkness isn’t all bad, is it, little one? whispered from behind the shojis.

It never has been,was her silent answer.

I said it! Sulu insisted.

And she’s never understood the difference, was the immediate counter. Which is why you love her.

After relaying the good news to the engineers of the Hood, Jeremy asked for and received permission from Captain Aronson to help ‘oversee the clean-up´ on the Enterprise, more than grateful that his captain didn’t ask what ‘clean-up’ was needed.

“Just remember our shuttle,” was all Aronson said.

While heading for the transporter again, Jeremy had time to consider what would have happened if he’d been ‘twinned.’ It didn’t take much thought – there’d be the no-nonsense Security Chief and the guerilla shrink – or is the guerilla part of Security? And which one would be the raging masochist? He adjusted the mental picture: most likely it would be the psychologist who was also the masochist. A Security Chief couldn’t afford that kind of weakness.

Would one be hetero and the other gay? he wondered. Of course, Sulu didn’t split his bisexuality. No reason to think I would. And the masochist has been known to enjoy a good dominatrix, as much as the Security man appreciates a fine set of masculine muscles pushing against his. And all of me loves Sulu – and could easily fall for Jilla…

And we’ll stop with that line of thinking right now, he ordered himself. Kam may be behind the shojis again, but the loony juice will still let him hear what I’m thinking. And we don’t need a repeat of ‘mine mine mine.’

He straightened his shoulders as he got onto the transporter platform. It was going to be hard enough convincing Sulu not to wallow in guilt over things Kam had almost done. He didn’t need to add Kam’s sarcasm to it.

When he materialized back on the Enterprise, the glanced to his left to ensure there was no double – just as he had when he beamed over to the Hood. Then he went in search of Sulu.

Jade gave everyone a thorough examination and pronounced them fit enough to go to their respective cabins and get some rest, knowing that Sulu and Jilla would do just that, and that Ruth and Spock would not. She wanted to check in on DelMonde, but McCoy assured her it would be better to ‘leave the boy alone for a spell.’ He showed her the surreptitious med scan he’d done, which satisfied her that at least the engineer was in the same shape as Sulu – xenoneurophene active as all hell, but otherwise well in the range of normal for him. She started a log entry, then realized Jim was still in Sickbay, staring with an unfocused gaze.

“James?” she said, gently touching his arm. “What is it?”

He blinked, his hazel eyes focusing. “Sorry, Doctor,” he replied. “I was just thinking.”

“About the time you found yourself in a similar situation?” she guessed.

He nodded. “I know there’s darkness in each of us. That was pretty obvious with Miss Valley and Mr. DelMonde and Mr. Sulu. And poor Mrs. Majiir had her own hell to deal with, certainly. But…” He paused.

“You didn’t see any darkness in Spock,” Jade said for him.

He stared into her eyes. “Isn’t that strange?” he asked, almost plaintively.

“Not really,” she answered, motioning him to take a seat at her desk. She herself took a seat on it. “The racial splits didn’t reveal what you’re calling ‘darkness’ precisely because the splits were racial. Since there’s dark and light in each species, we wouldn’t necessarily see it any more than we usually do.”

“But Ruth…”

“…was Antari and acted like it. We don’t have much in the way of dealings with full blooded members of that race – for good reason, apparently.”

She smiled at Jim’s muttered, “You can say that again.”

“But my point is,” she continued, “that she wasn’t ‘dark’, she was simply Antari – which isn’t Human. To judge her actions by Human standards would be a mistake. And Jilla’s ‘hell’ as you put it, was precisely because she was all Indiian. She had no Vulcan logic to control the emotional truth she lives with.”

“It makes me feel very sorry for Sulu,” Jim commented.

“It makes me count them both as very fortunate to have each other,” Jade returned. “But as with Ruth and Jilla, what we saw of Spock was his dual racial heritage, Human and Vulcan, not Dark Vulcan and Light Human or vice-versa. But James, from what I saw of his interactions, there’s plenty of dark in the Vulcan. After all, they are a warrior race. His possessiveness could have turned very dark indeed.” She paused. “Don’t you agree?”

Jim shrugged unhappily. “I guess. I mean, what you’re saying makes sense, it’s just that…”

“It’s not fair when you and Sulu and Del had to actually confront your dark halves,” she put in with soft understanding.

His jaw clenched. “Yes, I guess that’s what I’m saying.”

She slid off her desk and knelt in front of him. “Having gone through it yourself, James, would you really wish that on Spock?”

“No, but…”

“It isn’t fair,” she completed for him.

He made a noise in his throat, then again met her gaze. “No. It isn’t.”

She let him search her eyes, steady and open and welcoming, until he sighed, and a wry grin started pulling at his lips. “It is a shame that they won’t learn the lesson I did,” he said.

Jade reached up, touching his face. “And what lesson was that?” she asked.

“That they need their dark halves,” he said, and Jade heard the pain of that lesson in his tone of voice.

“I can’t speak for Mr. DelMonde just yet,” she told him, “but Sulu is all too aware of it. He always has been.”

“Poor bastard,” Jim mumbled.

She rose, making no further comment on the matter. “Is there anything else, Captain?” she asked.

“Nothing I want to talk about,” he returned.

“It’s all right, James,” she assured him. “I read the file.”

He shuddered, averting his gaze. “I knew you would.”

“And I’m not flinching, am I?”

“You’re a doctor. You’re not allowed to.”

Her head tilted as she regarded him. “Is that what you think? Truly?”

He shrugged, and stood from his chair. “I better get up to the Bridge,” he said. “There’ll be calls from the Hood and the Constitution.”

“James…” Jade touched his arm. “I know, and I’m not flinching.”

He gave her a crooked, boyish grin. “Well, thank you for that, Jade.”

He turned and left Sickbay, and Jade sighed.

Ruth and Spock worked silently in Chemistry, synthesizing the anti-reactive agent for the Hood and the Constitution, as well as for the Theraxan colonies. Ruth glanced at her husband more than occasionally, trying to formulate what to say. Her Human half felt incredibly guilty for the way her Antari half had dismissed their marriage, yet she also longed for a peek – just a peek – of his Human half.

But he’s gonna bury it in Vulcan stoicism, she thought petulantly. Like he always does when he’s been particularly Human. And what can I say to that that won’t sound like I love his Human half more?

And the real question is… do I?

Well, it’s clear the Human half of me does. And if the Antari half doesn’t love any of him…

Ani Ramy, don’t be any more ridiculous than you have to be.

She started at the Zehara’s voice in her head.

You are not a Human half and a Koltiri half, you know, the goddess went on, her tone both annoyed and amused. You’re a hybrid. I thought we had that all worked out.

We do – I do, Ruth answered. It’s just that…

If you were all Koltiri, things might be different, came the smooth interruption. But you’re not, so they aren’t. You do love evan Amanda. If you didn’t, do you think I’d have let that gorgeous Human tel-empath slip through my fingers?

Del? Ruth questioned, her surprise clear.

Evan Louisa would have been quite the catch, the Zehara mused. Or evan Midori. But your soul isn’t bound to them. So I’d suggest you suck it up and accept that you’re a hybrid and stop with this Human-half / Koltiri-half nonsense.

My soul is…?

Oh, for my sake, ani Ramy! Do you need it spelled out for you? And if you do…

A clear, beautiful peal of laughter echoed through Ruth’s head as the presence of her goddess floated away.

Oh-kay, Ruth thought. She took a breath and glanced again at Spock. His head was bent over the synthesizer, the elegant planes of his jaw and cheekbones and ear in profile. A wave of longing swept over her, and she sighed.

I love you, husband, she whispered, and his answer came without any external change in his posture of concentration.

And I you, wife.

Jeremy pressed the signal in front of Sulu and Jilla’s cabin, hoping he wasn’t going to be disturbing their reintegration reunion. He counted five seconds with no response, and was just about to walk quietly away when Sulu’s voice called, “Come.” It didn’t sound frustrated or harried, so the TerAfrican took a deep breath and went through the opening door.

Sulu was standing next to the Indiian shrine, both his feet and his chest bare, helping Jilla to stand. Her feet were also bare, and the flame in the shrine blazed with fierce, Aeman righteousness.

“Am I interrupting?” Jeremy asked.

“No, we were finished,” Sulu replied, not, Jeremy noted, looking at him.

“Sulu insisted,” Jilla explained, her voice soft. “He needed to ask mercy for the things he does not remember.”

Jeremy nodded as Sulu shrugged into his tunic.

“I am glad you returned,” the Indiian continued. “I wanted to thank you for all your aid.”

Paget smiled at her. “No charge, Lady.”

He saw the Indiian ‘I am not a lady’ form in her eyes, as well as a confusion over the idea of monetary remuneration for his actions. He also saw the Vulcan realization that it was a social nicety, not meant to be taken literally, and the understanding that, to him, she was ‘Lady’ by virtue of her relationship with Sulu, regardless of any moral issue that might be attached to the usual connotations of the word.

“Me, too, Jer,” Sulu said, his voice unusually subdued. “If it wasn’t for you… well, I guess I can say ‘I don’t know what I would have done’ and really mean it.”

“You’ll get the bill,” Jeremy joked, and regretted it as the hawk screeched a warning in his mind. Before the delicious fear could make him cower embarrassingly, he took a step forward, giving Sulu a warm but carefully non-sexual hug. “I’m just glad I was here, babe,” he murmured.

“For more reason than one,” was the silky response, and the Security man quickly pulled away, catching a flash of Kam’s grin before Sulu’s lost anguish returned.

“It’s the xenoneurophene,” Jeremy said. “It’s gonna make the shojis a little – unreliable for a few days.”

“I know,” Sulu returned soberly. “I just hope…” His voice trailed off.

“He is concerned about what he might do when you are not here to stop him,” Jilla put in.

“It’s okay,” Paget answered. “You’re here to stop him.”

The Indiian blinked. “I? How can I…?”

“By lovin’ him, Lady. Just like you did when we were on Dreamland.”

Sulu was frowning. “But – Jer,” he protested, “I do remember that she did everything – he – told her to…”

“No, it was the Vulcan who did everything Kam told her to,” Jeremy interrupted. “The Indiian did what she felt. When she’s all together…” He smiled at Jilla. “… she’s a lot stronger than he thinks she is.”

He heard the silent, menacing, You think so? Should we test that, babe? in his head, and tried not to shiver.

Yeah, I think so, but no, let’s not try that, he thought.

You’re no fun anymore, Cobra.

Jeremy took a deep breath. And I’d say thank the good lord for that, but…

Kam’s laughter was soft, and relenting. Ah honesty. Food for the soul. If, of course, I still had one.

“Jer?”

Paget shook himself. “Xenoneurophene,” he said, and smiled at his friend. “You’re gonna be fine, Sulu,” he assured. “And just so you know, you did nothing that needs forgiveness.”

“As I told you,” Jilla rejoined with gentle insistence.

“That can’t be true,” Sulu murmured.

“Okay, you did nothing that needs Indiian forgiveness,” Jeremy corrected. “And as for all the rest, Saki and I understand…”

Sulu blanched. “Sakura? Oh god, what did I…?”

“Only what you could not help,” Jilla again answered, “and not what you wanted.”

With a groan, Sulu dropped his head to his hands. “How am I gonna face anyone…”

“They all know it wasn’t you,” Jeremy told him. “Hell, babe, with the long hair and leather, he didn’t even much look like you.”

The Asian’s head jerked back up. “Long hair and leather?”

Paget chuckled. “Apparently the loony juice let every half look like they wanted to.” He shook his head. “Ruth all Human looks like such a nice Jewish girl. And you shoulda seen N.C. in dreadlocks.”

“I only vaguely…” Sulu began, then stopped. “Dreadlocks?”

“And Lady, I never realized what a striking Vulcan you’d make,” Jeremy continued.

Jilla flushed, and Sulu gazed at her. “That I remember,” he said wistfully.

“Anyway, the point is, you say you’re sorry, I say no need but forgiven, and that’s that,” Paget concluded. “I’m gonna be around for a little while, just to make sure everything goes smoothly with the colonies, so if you need to talk later…”

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Jilla said, and he shivered, as always, at the way she pronounced his name.

“Thanks,” Sulu echoed. “I mean it.”

Jeremy smiled. “I know, babe. I know.”

Jeremy didn’t bother signaling at DelMonde’s cabin. The Cajun was, by now, either too drunk or too grounded or both to answer. And that being the case, he was too drunk or too grounded or both to effectively do anything about an unauthorized intrusion.

Jer did have to take a fortifying breath before he entered, but that was just to keep his own emotions from causing his friend any more pain.

As expected, DelMonde was on his bunk, his shoulders propped just high enough against a pillow to make his drinking convenient. From the leaden darkness of his eyes, the sapphire was at least giving him the illusion of peace.

“Hey,” Jer said softly, coming into the engineer’s view.

“This gotta be a bad dream,” Del muttered, “’cause I know ol’ Jer not stupid enough t’ come on in here jus’ now.”

“No, I’m exactly that stupid,” Paget replied. He sat down, taking the Cajun’s wrist, pressing his fingers gently against the artery.

Del pulled his hand away. “Fuck that doctor shit,” he growled.

“You want me to check on your pulse, babe,” Jeremy returned. “If it’s doin’ all right, I’ll let you have more sapphire.”

“Sheee-it,” DelMonde breathed, thrusting his arm back at the TerAfrican.

Jeremy chuckled, counted the pulse, satisfying himself that, though slow, it was regular enough not to be an indication of any danger. Accordingly, he reached into his belt and pulled out six deep blue capsules. When Del reached for them avidly, Jer put them on the bedside shelf.

“They’re there for when I leave,” he said. “I need to talk to you, and it always works better when you can talk back.”

“Firs’ time anybody ever say that t’ me,” the Cajun grunted.

“You know I love the sound of your voice,” Paget grinned.

“An’ here I thought that were only when I was singin’,” Del returned, then grimaced. “Or when I groanin’ ‘oh god, oh god, oh god.”

“You’re more of a ‘mere de duin’ type,” Jeremy corrected with another grin. “But surprisingly enough, that’s not why I’m here.”

“Good to know you gentlemen enough not t’ take advantage o’ my inebriated state.”

“I’ll ravage you another time, babe. I wanted to try and get through to your dumb-ass Cajun brain that the man with the pinky ring isn’t you.” Paget held up a hand before Del could counter the statement. “Yeah, you’ve got it in you to be that man – but you also have it in you to be Noel Duhon. If you’re gonna blame yourself for what your daddy’s boy wanted to do – but didn’t, mind that, but didn’t – you also have to take credit for what your mama’s son did. You saved Sulu’s sanity. You gave him a way to deal with all the shit the sick-fuck put inside him. And while he may not have conscious memory of it, it’s there in his subconscious, and it’ll work its way to the fore when it can.” His voice became softer, and he had to swallow the lump in his throat. “And nothing Mafia DelMonde could ever say or do to me will ever take away the gratitude I feel for that.”

“There not no Mafia,” Del muttered.

“I know,” Paget replied. “He talked the talk, and maybe if he’d been given time, he might have walked the walk too, but that didn’t happen, so don’t go…”

“An’ you know why it not happen?” Del suddenly blazed, pushing himself up on the bed. “’Cause the woman I love – the only woman I love betray me! I not stop him – weak-ass Noel Duhon not stop him – she did! An’ she not t’ink so much as a minute t’ do it! She not feel not’ing, she not give a fuckin’ damn ‘bout what it do t’ me! She betray me, Jer, she betray me…!”

His voice broke and he fell forward, his head in his hand – awkward because the bourbon bottle was still in it, soundless sobs wracking his body.

Jeremy carefully pried his fingers away from the bottle, placing it on the floor next to the bed.

“Listen to me, babe,” he said, his voice gentle but unyielding. “Just like you’re both Del and Noel, she’s both Ruth and ani Ramy. The you that isn’t a transporter fuck-up would never do the things that are tearin’ you up. And the whole that she is would never do what the Antari part of her did. You gotta believe that.”

“Yeah?” Del spat hoarsely. “Why I gotta believe that?”

“Because it’s the truth. If you weren’t grounded more than a mile deep, you could look into my head and see it for yourself.”

“All I’d see is you believe it,” the Cajun growled.

“And when have I ever lied to myself?” Jeremy demanded. “About anything?”

He watched as Del blinked away enough of the anguish to rally his dulled brain. He felt the whisper of drunken awareness fill his mind, finding, as Jer had said, the truth that was there. He kept his thoughts as open as he could, letting his friend root around as long as he wanted. And when Del finally withdrew, it was with a long, tremulous sigh.

“Damn you fo’ a cagey bastard, Jeremy Maurice,” he said wearily.

“Thank you for the compliment, Noel Christopher,” Paget returned. “So don’t you give another thought to what ani Ramy and Kam did, or to what you didn’t do. Just remember what you did, and how eternally grateful I am.” He reached across the bed, giving his friend a warm, comforting bear-hug. “And if you ever wanna explore some of that Voudun stuff, you give me a call.”

“Cold day in hell, Cobra,” the engineer muttered.

Jeremy chuckled, and reached down for the bottle, handing it back. “You need a test drive something awful,” he said conspiratorially, “but I don’t have the leave. So this’ll have to do.”

“Get me ‘bout ten more bottles an’ it’ll do,” Del replied sourly.

Paget rose, went to the replicator, and did just that. “Good thing I know you rig this thing yourself,” he said as he brought bottle after bottle, lining them up on the deck next to the bed. “And I’m trustin’ you not to take all the sapphire at once. If you do, Saki’ll have to call me and I’ll have to get an emergency leave to come in here with her and threesome you up again.”

That got a snort from the Cajun, and Jeremy smiled at him. He leaned down, kissing the top of Del’s head, smoothing the dark, thick hair from his face. “Call me if you need anything, babe,” he whispered, then straightened.

He waited for the slow, grudging nod, then walked across the cabin.

“Hey, Jer?”

He turned. “Yeah?”

“Fo’get what I said befo’,” Del said. “You jus’ go on callin’ me N.C.”

Jeremy smiled. “Never thought not to, N.C.”

Spock sat at the computer terminal on the Bridge, watching information flow by without really seeing it. It wasn’t that the data was unimportant, or that he had already formed a theory as to what had happened on the Theraxan planets: his mind was in a far different place.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the Vulcan Jilla Takeda.

His Human half kept trying to remind him that it was only logical that the Vulcan would be attracted to her. She was, after all, his mate. They shared a tie that went far beyond the kinship both of them acknowledged. Any Vulcan would be unable to ignore that tie. It was in their biology. And the Vulcan part of him didn’t deny that. Though he loved Ruth Valley with all his heart, they were not yet Bonded. The telepathic connection between them explained his Vulcan possessiveness, logic insisting that since they had a marriage contract in force, she was his wife.

Yet, Jilla had been so proper, so deferential, her voice soft yet strong. She responded to my needs, she heard my call, and was willing to aid me when she could…

Perhaps it would be best if I spoke to her. We could discuss it and reach a mutual understanding…

Oh no you don’t, the Human part of him countered. You just want an excuse to try and see the Vulcan in her again.

He started at the accusation. Surely, that could not be any part of his reasoning.

Bets? his Human self returned, sounding very much like Ruth.

Would it not be best for us both to put any lingering effect in the past? To acknowledge what was and to relegate it to a place of honest yet irrelevant concern?

What would be best is to let it be, his Humanity asserted. She doesn’t need the emotional pressure. Neither does Sulu. Or Ruth, for that matter.

But to deny what is…

Vulcans do that all the time, came the blunt response; then it was softened with, For all the correct and logical reasons.

It could be incorrectly interpreted, the Vulcan acknowledged, and I have no wish to harm my rilain.

Maybe it would be best to avoid affectionate nomenclature, too.

He felt the possessiveness rising within him. That is something understood between us…

See?

He shook off the immediate sense of claim. No, you are correct. She is not mine, she belongs to Sulu. She loves Sulu. As I love my wife. He straightened. I will let it be.

The sudden sense of clarity filled him, and he gave a nod of thanks to that of his mother within him, and returned to his data screen.

Sulu had left the cabin to, as he put it, apologize to the known universe. Jilla began straightening their quarters, despite the fact that there was no mess to straighten. The Vulcan in her pointed out the illogic of it, but the Indiian needed some activity to keep her still-jumbled emotions at bay. While she did not understand the insistence of those around her, even from Sulu himself, that who they called ‘Kam’ was somehow a separate person – ‘Kam’ had not been a product of deliberate alteration. ‘Kam’ was not the result of new genetics being introduced into Sulu’s DNA – she nevertheless accepted that it was their perception. That did not trouble her.

Her own reactions, however, were another matter.

She could not deny the pull she still felt toward Spock. It was, in fact, completely understandable. They had shared the Blood Fever, such an attraction was inevitable. It even made sense that it was only her Vulcan half that felt it. But the Vulcan recognized the bond to Sulu as well; in fact, she reacted to it more strongly that she had to the draw to Spock.

And what had the Indiian felt? Guilt, shame, despair. Only the desire to face Aema. Yet she, too, responded to Sulu’s needs and his desires, and that could not be because of Vulcan genetics.

Jade’s explanation came back to her; Dr. McCoy’s intervention during The Time had altered her chemistry – not only the Vulcan hormones, but her Indiian chemistry. And it was that which had caused her emotional tie to Sulu. If it had been only the Vulcan genetics, it would have worn off once the flood of hormones had stopped. That it hadn’t was because she was Indiian as well as Vulcan.

And clearly, the Vulcan in Spock had no understanding of that. He accepted it; logically, he had no choice since it was fact. But he did not understand.

Perhaps it would aid him if I were to explain it to him? she thought. I would not wish him to feel any remorse over a thing that neither of us can…

No. He recognized Sulu’s claim. He did not accept Challenge. Whatever he may feel, he will not pursue it. Nor do I want him to.

The Vulcan half of her was content with the logic of it.

But it was her Indiian self that had to deal with the guilt.

Yeoman Sakura Tamara was sitting behind her desk when she sensed someone behind her. She turned, and for an instant, saw a leather-clad body with long dark hair, taunting black eyes and a wicked grin. She blinked, and the figure morphed into Sulu, standing contritely in the doorway.

“Saki…” he began hesitantly.

She rose, moving to give him a quick hug.

“You don’t have to explain anything,” she murmured.

“I couldn’t if I wanted to,” he admitted sheepishly. “It’s like it was at the Clave. I don’t exactly remember…” His voice faded and he glanced at the deck, then resolutely met her eyes. “But for whatever it is that I don’t remember – I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Sakura replied, meeting his gaze. “I know you, Sulu. I remember – this and everything at the Clave. I didn’t exactly run away screaming, then or now.” An impish smile pulled at her lips. “Though there was some screaming at the Clave.” At the stricken look on his face, she hurriedly added, “the good kind, Sulu. Always the good kind.”

He shook his head ruefully. “You and Jer.”

“Yes, well, you’re just that good,” she returned.

“No. I’m not,” he muttered.

“What does Jilla say?” she demanded.

He made a face. “That she knows me and loves me and there’s nothing to forgive.”

“There you are, then.”

There was silence between them for a moment, then Sulu took a breath. “Jilla’s not gonna need to…” he began.

“No, nothing like that happened,” Sakura assured him. Not for lack of trying, though, her thoughts added.

His head jerked up, aghast. “What did I…?!”

“It’s all right, Sulu,” she soothed. “Jeremy stopped us.” You can hear me?

“It’s the xenoneurophene,” he answered her thought.

The yeoman blushed, and Sulu gave her a wry smile and shrugged. “Jade says it will settle down in a couple of days.”

“Well, until then, I’m going to be cataloguing log entries in my head,” she answered.

He shook his head, his smile widening. “I love you, you know that, Saki. Right?”

Not like I wish you did, she thought, then blushed again.

“And I’m sorry for that, too,” Sulu murmured.

“Oh, go take your guilt somewhere else,” she said mock-sternly.

He stood there for a moment more, then said, “But we’re good, yeah?”

“Always were,” she teased, then added seriously. “Yes, Sulu, we’re good. Always.”

“Thanks, Saki.”

“Don’t mention it. Ever.”

He chuckled, and hugged her, then turned and left her office.

She watched him walk away, took a moment for wistful longing and regret, then went back to her work.

“Go th’ hell away,” Noel DelMonde snarled automatically in response to the doorchime.

“It’s me,” the person in the hall called in a very subdued tone. “Daffy.”

“I know who the hell it is. Now, go th’ hell away.”

There was a moment of silence. “I know you fucking know,” his would-be visitor replied less gently, “so open the fucking door before I kick it the fuck in.”

DelMonde reluctantly hit the release button. “I thought the doctors promised me that they not gonna let nobody bother me,” he growled, not meeting the chemist’s eyes.

“That was thirty-six hours ago,” Gollub growled back. “Now Han is talking about putting the two of us in a room and letting us ‘work through our issues’ while she takes notes.”

“Screw that.”

“That’s what I said.”

“So what now?” DelMonde searched through his ample supply of empty bourbon bottles for remnants. “You here to kick half my ass?”

“Something like,” Gollub replied, frowning.

“What th’ fuck you want me t’ say?” Del miserably kicked a pair of mercilessly empty bottles away from the foot of his buck. “’I sorry’ don’t exactly cut it under th’ circumstances.”

“Not a bad start, though.”

“I am more than sorry.” The supply of tears he thought he’d completely drained welled up again. “I am a worthless excuse fo’ a human who don’t deserve t’ breathe…”

Gollub remained silent as the misery overwhelmed him for several moments.

At last she sighed wearily and said, “Behind you.”

“What?”

“There’s a bottle with something in it behind you.”

“Oh…. Thanks.” Del wiped his face on his sleeve. “Uh… you want some?”

“Of day and a half old rotgut?” Gollub made a face. “Did you drink all the vodka?”

“No. I t’ink T’Paul snuck in an’ took it while I grounded.”

“Sounds like him.”

“You two not talkin’, I guess…”

“We’re not fighting… exactly. He’s… digesting, I guess.”

“Tryin’ to decide if he believe any o’ th’ past few days happen or not?”

“Exactly. He’s bunking with Geoff Redford until you come out of hibernation.”

“Bit too much t’ stay wit’ you after all th’ shit I make you tell him.”

“Yeah. And I’m still pretty fucking mad at you about that…. Among other things.”

Del’s reply turned into half-choked sob. “Oh, God, I don’t deserve t’ live…”

“Stop it.” Gollub took the carelessly tilted bottle out of his hands before its contents spilled to the floor. “I think one of us needs to point out that the person who... threatened me wasn’t really you…”

“Yes, it was…”

“And we both know that you’d never treat me like that…”

“I not no better than my fuckin’ old man. Hell, I worse. He lie, cheat, steal, an’ fuck ‘round most o’ his life… but he never make plans t’ rape one o’ his friends an’ make it look like she want it that way. He never plot to kill…”

“It wasn’t really you,” Gollub said when the engineer dissolved into tears again. “It was a fucking transporter malfunction mirage.”

“No wonder she betray me,” Del said, half to himself. “An’ Kam too… I lower than dirt…”

“What about the other you? They were on the verge of canonizing him. Don’t you get any credit for that?”

“That was jus’ a fuckin’ transporter malfunction mirage.”

Gollub had to smile a little at this stubborn illogic. “Most of the time I don’t get it, but sometimes I can see ways you and Chekov are really a lot alike.”

Del wiped his eyes. “If you gonna get nasty, you can get th’ hell out…”

Gollub sat down on the foot of his bunk. “You’ve got to pull yourself together, Cajun.”

“So you can yell at me?”

“For starters.”

DelMonde took a long, fortifying sip of whiskey. “I guess I do owe you that much.”

“So answer one question.” The chemist crossed her arms. “Would you have done it?”

“Done what?” The engineer gave a bitter half-laugh. “Raped? Blackmailed? Murdered? Hell yes. He…”

“Exactly,” Gollub interrupted. “‘He,’ not you…”

“He is me, Daffy.”

“Really?” the chemist retorted. “Would you do any of those things? Not Evil Del, but you, Del-Del. Right here. Right now. Would you do it? I’m right in front of you. I’ve barged in here like a damned fool. Are you going to attack me and make it look like that’s what I wanted?”

“No!” The Cajun’s bleary eyes opened wide in horror. “God, no! Never in a thousan’ years would I ever… You gotta believe me….”

“I do.” Gollub confirmed, letting the significance of the vehemence of the engineer’s outburst soak into his misery-soaked brain. “So, there’s that.”

“But I got evil in me, cher… monstrous evil. All my life, people done said I was evil… I never believed it, but…”

“Apparently having an evil side is not that unique.” The chemist shrugged. “You remember that I date Mr. I-Wish-I-Had-Fewer-Emotions-And-Pointed-Ears-So-I-Could-Remember-More-Annoying-Trivia?”

“Yes.”

“At infuriating intervals, he keeps reminding me that the last time this sort of thing happened, Captain Kirk, who he worships as Co-God with Spock, split into good and evil halves.”

“Yeah, but...”

“Evil Bwana had Janice Rand down on the floor of his cabin screaming, then beat up the guy who tried to stop him, and was going to kill Sulu and a whole landing party by letting them freeze to death if Spock hadn’t stopped him. If that’s not monstrous evil, I don’t know what is.”

“Yeah, but...”

“...But he was and is a certified, gold-plated, walks-on-subspace, real hero -- a living legend, a mensch among mensches.” Gollub paused a moment to consider. “When you look at it that way, your evil side was all talk. His was all action. His evil side kicked your evil side’s ass, really.”

“So…” DelMonde blinked at her. “You want me to apologize fo’ not bein’ more evil?”

“No, I want you to stop being such a pathetic drunken bastard so I can scream at you.”

Instead of complying, the engineer took another long, slow sip of bourbon. “So, ever’one else over this whole t’ing?”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Gollub conceded. “Sulu is on his third pan-galactic apology tour. Jilla has a look frozen on her face like someone played a really bad practical joke on her and she can’t figure out why or who. Mr. and Mrs. Boss are in full ‘move on, folks, nothing to see here’ mode while they do whatever private minuet they need to do to deal with the fact that their perfect-perfect relationship is not so perfect-perfect as they thought….” The chemist paused as she watched the engineer wince at this disturbance of a particularly sore spot. “Are you going to talk to her?”

“What I gonna say?” he asked bitterly. “That it look like all o’ me in love wit’ th’ half o’ her that more than half not in love wit’ half o’ her husband? We can graph out ‘xactly how mathematically fucked up th’ whole t’ing is on a chart now, but…”

“What about this ‘she betray me’ thing?” Gollub asked. “Doesn’t sound like you’re going to be okay with that any time soon….”

“Not much I can do ‘bout that.” DelMonde tossed his empty bottle noisily into the pile of empties. “I guess T-Paul plan t’ kick my ass.”

“I guess…” Gollub tried to suppress wincing at a sore spot of her own. “Who knows…”

The Cajun turned his all-too-perceptive-even-when-this-drunk, black eyes on her. “It not him avoidin’ you, is it?” he surmised. “You the one not want to talk to him, non?”

“Okay, yeah, well…” the chemist muttered uncomfortably. “Back to you being evil…”

“You done let my evil mess wit’ your head,” he scolded gently. “Start to make you t’inking that messed up shit ‘bout you not bein’ good enough that kept you hangin’ ‘round that putz Dave Maxwell…”

“Oh, God,” Gollub groaned. “Let’s not start on that again…”

“Look, cher,” DelMonde began, his drunkenness seeming to fade in proportion to his concern for her. “Even though you an’ me never say more’an a half-dozen words ‘bout it durin’ all th’ time we know each other, we always have more in common than jus’ how much we both love t’ drink, fuck, an’ make fun o’ people. We both lose our mama when we kids. After that, we both have situations wit’ our daddies that go from bad t’ worse t’ so fucked up we can’t be in th’ same house wit’ the bastard no more ‘cause when he look at us, he see our mama an’ when we talk, he hear his own no-good self. He blame himself fo’ her dyin’ an’ he blame us an’ he can’t stand us bein’ like her an’ like him at the same time… an’ the shit jus’ gets too fucked up fo’ any one o’ us to stand.”

As unstoppable tears rolled down both of their faces, Del put a hand over hers in an almost brotherly gesture.

"But unlike me, my Daffodil, you can’t see inside your daddy’s fucked-up head an’ you wind up feelin’ guilty ‘bout the shit. Even though you run away from him, you can’t run away from him. You keep on pickin’ out bullheaded smartasses to be wit’ who always too busy lookin’ down their dumbassed noses at other people’s flaws to notice how fucked-up they own shit is. You keep rehearsin’ that bad situation ‘tween you an’ your dad like you gonna get it right one o’ these days.”

Daffy couldn’t quite get the devastatingly cynical and jaded comeback she had ready for these sorts of occasions past her painfully tight throat.

“Look, darlin’,” Del continued. “The reason why th’ evil me tried t’ blackmail you was not ’cause you done bad shit as a kid, but ‘cause you felt so guilty ‘bout shit you done an’ a whole lot of shit that wasn’t your fault you’d stop talkin’ to th’ Russian Boy Wonder an’ ever’body else. Evil me wanted you to stop talkin’ to anybody but Evil Me. He not count on Mr. Perfect Dreamboat Not-a-Vulcan buttin’ in… or that you be brave ‘nough to face up to what you were ‘fraid of.”

“I wish I hadn’t…” Daffy wiped her eyes roughly on her sleeve. “And Evil You is an Evil Bastard for making me do it.”

“Can’t argue wit’ that,” the engineer agreed sadly. “But it fo’ the best, Daf. Get rid o’ all that guilty shit you been draggin’ around fo’ no reason.”

“But now, he’s… he’s…”

“He done plenty o’ shit he feels guilty ‘bout.”

“No he hasn’t.”

“Yes, he has,” the Cajun assured her. “I was there.”

“When?”

“At th’ Academy.”

“Like what?”

The engineer sorted through his mental files for several moments before deciding on an appropriate narrative. “Okay. This story so bad we both promised never t’ breathe a word of it to another soul…”

Gollub smiled. “That’s the one I want.”

“Well, under th’ circumstances, you’re due,” the Cajun agreed. “But you gotta promise never to repeat a syllable.”

“Except to him.”

“No, ‘specially not to him.”

“Then what good is knowing?”

“You jus’ wait ‘til the right moment an’ give him a look like this.” The engineer lifted one eyebrow in an expression of dubious contempt. “An’ he know you know.”

“So, what’s the story?”

“This is when me an’ T-Paul are roommates at th’ Academy befo’ I met Ruth.” DelMonde picked a discarded shot glass off the floor and poured himself a drink. “We used to go out drinkin’ sometimes…” Gollub raised an eyebrow. “You wasted a weekend pass on him?”

“Hell, no, I not waste a second of a weekend pass on that smartassed bastard,” the Cajun confirmed. “I knowed of an exit in th’ sub-basement of th’ Astronomy lab that that had a faulty surveillance setup…”

“You broke curfew?” the chemist interrupted, then corrected the source of her surprise. “He broke curfew?”

“As we saw it, it was necessary,” the engineer replied. “We both what you might call drinkin’ men…”

“Yes,” Gollub nodded. “I might.”

“An’ we felt that makin’ a habit o’ drinkin’ alone in your quarters could only lead to becomin’ an alcoholic.”

“I see.”

“So, it was fo’ the preservation of our health an’ good character that we made these excursions, y’see.”

“Very reasonable. And this was before you met Ruth?”

“Yeah.”

“So the two of you were plebes?’

“Green as grass,” the Cajun confirmed.

“With upperclassmen breathing down your necks?”

“Every day…”

“And surprise inspections?”

“Yeah, but y’see,” the engineer explained, tapping his head, “they were never a surprise t’ me.”

“Well, that was handy.”

“It was a bit of a challenge,” the Cajun conceded. “But we managed t’ maintain a healthy drinkin’ schedule.”

“I see.”

“So we were in this San Fran bar one night, an’ there this woman... She not bad lookin’ or not’ing, but even ‘fore we get there, she is flat nasty, horny-as-all-seven-hells drunk. An’ so she starts sendin’ us drinks – An’ good stuff too. An’ bein’ the gentlemen we are, we jus’ too polite not to drink ‘em.”

“Oh, yes.”

“So, this go on fo’ a while an’ finally I say to Chekov, ‘Look, son, if we keep drinkin’ these drinks, she t’ink she gonna get somet’ing in return.’ An’ he say hell no ‘cause he not wanna run into her grandkids comin’ out th’ bedroom th’ next day…”

“He said that?”

“Well, somet’ing to that effect…” the Cajun conceded. “She not real old, but she no spring chicken neither. So, we wave goodbye an’ move on to the next bar… An’ she follow us there an’ start into buyin’ us drinks again. So, we move on t’ the next bar an’, lo an’ behold, she turn up there too. Now the two o’ us been so polite in acceptin’ her free liquor that we both nigh on to knee-walkin’ drunk an’ T-Paul say he got a test the next day, so we wave goodbye again, head out the bar, an’ stagger back to the Astronomy buildin’ an’ somehow make it back t’ our quarters wit’out wakin’ up th’ whole underclassman’s barracks. So, o’ course, our boy heads off to th’ shower… Me, I in such a depleted state that I decide I need to take a li’l nap on th’ floor next to my desk ‘fore finishin’ th’ trip to my bunk.”

Knowing the engineer’s Herculean capacity for drink, the chemist was quite impressed. “Oh, God…” she giggled.

“I not know how long I rested there, but, to my surprise, there come a knock at our door. Now, in my somewhat confused state, I believed this was hall patrol come to de-merit me wit’in an inch o’ my life. So I muster my best approximation o’ sobriety – which don’t quite get me up to bein’ able t’ get up on my hands an’ knees. To my utter surprise, a woman’s voice says, “I wanna come in.” An’ I know it that drunk bitch from the bar. ‘Go home!’ I whisper, so as not to cause a commotion. ‘What?’ she says back. ‘Go home!’ I whisper louder. ‘What?’ that drunk, deaf, biddy replies. So I open th’ door to whisper again an’ she fall inside right on top o’ me.”

Daffy was starting to wonder how the story could possibly end without the two of them getting expelled. “Oh, my God…”

“Now, I was fairly exhausted from these exertions, as you might imagine, an’ felt it necessary t’ take another li’l nap at this point. Upon wakin’, I was quite surprised t’ find that, in the confusion, my pants had somehow come off completely.”

“Really? Had they?”

“An’ far from bein’ alarmed by this turn of events, our midnight visitor had decided it was her duty as guest to reciprocate fo’ my somewhat unintentional hospitality by, shall we say, gratifyin’ me…”

“Oh?” Gollub grinned. “Shall we say that?”

“Oh, yes, we shall,” the Cajun confirmed. “She was gratifyin’ th’ hell outta me… which put me, as host, in a somewhat delicate position, non?”

“Somewhat,” Gollub agreed.

“Although I very much wished to invite her t’ leave, sheer politeness demanded…”

“… that you let her finish gratifying first.”

“Exactly. Now somewhere along th’ line, I notice that this activity is generatin’ an unusual amount of noise…”

“Oh, no…”

“Oh, yeah.” The engineer nodded. “An’ I look up an’ see that while th’ front end o’ this lady is gratifyin’ me, our li’l Slavic friend is behind her pumpin’ some high-quality hospitality into her other end.”

“Oh, my God…”

“I start to inquire ‘bout whether this arrangement been agreed upon by invitation an’ mutual consent or jus’ fortuitous circumstance, but at that point, I jus’ so happened to become fully gratified, an’ promptly decided I needed another, much more lengthy nap ‘fore I could resume my duties as host…”

“I see.”

“So the next mornin’, I wake up - buck-naked on th’ floor -- all by myself. Chekov has gone to class. There no sign that th’ woman had ever been there. As I take a shower, I start to convince myself that th’ previous night had all been a dream. They was jus’ no way some drunken old biddy could get through Academy security t’ follow us all the way up t’ our quarters. It only through an ingenious exploitation of a design flaw an’ liberal application of some Cajun Mind Magic that we able to do so ourselves. To follow us, this woman would hafta have been some kind o’ galactic class cat burglar or…”

Gollub’s jaw dropped open as the other obvious explanation occurred to her. “… Someone who could walk in through the main gate?”

“So, I puzzle over this the rest o’ th’ day an’ then that afternoon, Chekov walks in, face as white as a sheet. As he was headin’ to class in the upper tier of the Enviro-Sci buildin’, he say, he happen t’ look down into th’ gallery an’ see this party of big shots gettin’ th’ grand tour o’ the place…”

The chemist closed her eyes. “Oh, my God…”

“He was a li’l too overwrought to make a definite ID, but th’ two of us 95 percent certain that we simultaneously did th’ drunken an’ dirty, dirty deed with either a very, very high-rankin’ Security adviser to the motherfuckin’ President of the motherfuckin’ Federation or – an’ the irony of this was not lost on our Russian friend – th’ wife of a Rear Admiral.”

“Oh. My. God.”

“Which jus’ goes to show where too much politeness can get you,” the Cajun concluded. “So, now you see why this story must remain secret, non? The security o’ the entire Federation could be at risk.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Del smiled. “I know this not make us even, cher, but…”

The chemist solemnly shook his hand. “It’ll do for now.”

Sulu and Del caught sight of each other, each approaching the Captain’s office from opposite sides of the corridor. They simultaneously looked away, Del finding something enthralling on the bulkhead next to him, Sulu apparently equally fascinated by the deck plates beneath his feet. When neither of them passed the other, both stopping before Kirk’s door, Sulu cleared his throat.

“So – uh – the Captain wanted me to report…” he began.

“Yeah, me too,” Del mumbled.

The helmsman’s eyes closed. “Oh god….”

“No shit,” the engineer agreed sourly. “We man up an’ take our medicine like responsible officers?”

“Should we wait for Ruth?” Sulu suggested wryly.

“If she comin’, I leavin’,” Del snarled, though the pain in his eyes was evident.

“Yeah, about that…” Sulu took a careful breath. “I’m sorry, Del. I really don’t quite get why Kam went along with it, but…”

“I expect him t’ betray me ever’ damn day o’ th’ week that have a ‘A’ in it,” the Cajun interrupted.

Sulu was quiet for a minute. “I deserved that,” he said at last.

Del’s hand went to the bridge of his nose, and he shook his head. “Non, non, mon ami,” he murmured. “Kam got ever’ right t’ be mad as hell at me fo’ th’ rest o’ his life. It jus’...” He had to swallow. “It jus’ hurt so damn bad comin’ from…”

It was Sulu’s turn to break in. “I know,” he said. “Does it help to know that she’s sorry, too?”

“No,” was the curt response.

Sulu sighed, then straightened his shoulders. “Well, shall we get the court martial over with?”

“You t’ink Kirk gonna bring back keel-haulin’?”

“With my luck I’d survive it,” Sulu muttered.

Captain Kirk rose as the two officers entered his office. “Mr. Sulu, Mr. DelMonde, thank you for responding so quickly to my request,” he said, then gestured to two chairs that had been placed before his desk. “Please, both of you, have a seat.”

Sulu and Del exchanged confused glances. Did he jus’ say ‘thank you’? Del’s voice said into Sulu’s mental ear.

And ‘responding to my request’, Sulu confirmed. But don’t do that. It’ll wake up You-Know-Who.

Sheee-it, if I’d knowed it were a request…

I asked you not to do that.

“I know this must be a little puzzling for you both,” the Captain went on, oblivious to the silent exchange as he retook his chair. “But – well – I think it’s important, and having been through the same situation you’ve just experienced, I thought I could give you the benefit of my…” His voice suddenly cut off. “Experience,” he finished lamely.

“Captain, I apologize for the…” Sulu began.

At the same time, Del said, “Sir, I do apologize…”

Jim held up a hand. “No. No apologies are necessary – at least not to me. Neither one of you did anything to harm this ship or her crew, and whatever difficulties there may be within your personal relationships are none of my business.” He leaned forward, elbows on his desk, clasping his hands together. “What I called you both here for – what I wanted… I understand how difficult facing what happened might be.” He squared his shoulders. “And the reason I understand is that I’ve been there.” His gaze centered on Sulu. “You’ll recall that, Mr. Sulu. Mr. DelMonde, you weren’t yet aboard.”

“Yes, sir, I do remember,” Sulu replied quietly.

“An’ I heard ‘bout it,” Del confessed.

Jim nodded. “The important thing is – whatever your dark halves did or didn’t do, or wanted or didn’t want, or felt or thought or said… you can use it for good if you can see what parts of them you need.” He glanced away, clearly fighting a grimace. “Not being in command, and having your ‘twinning’ recognized right off was very fortunate for you. I only wish…” He shook himself. “That and, of course, the fact that neither one of them wanted to claim being you.”

“Thank god fo’ small favors,” Del muttered.

Sulu kept silent, but his hands started to twist around themselves.

“My point is this – in my case, it became apparent that my – dark side – held a great deal of my conviction and surety.” He chuckled. “And all of my ego. But I held the innate sense of decency that led me into Starfleet in the first place, and, as Bones said at the time, all the courage. My dark side had bravura, but when push came to shove, he was afraid. I wasn’t.”

“So you want us t’ figure out what th’ dark half have that we wanna keep?” Del questioned dubiously.

“Well, it’s not precisely a matter of ‘keeping,’” Kirk returned. “I don’t think we get a conscious choice in that. But if you can identify something – anything – that your dark half holds that you need, it might make the memories of what they did more bearable.” He again studied the men before him. “Can you do that, gentlemen?”

“Non,” the Cajun murmured with more than a touch of bitter regret.

“I can, Captain,” Sulu said uneasily. “But the thing is – what my ‘dark side’ keeps that I need is the fact that I don’t remember what I need.” At Jim’s frown, Sulu shrugged helplessly. “Talk to Dr. Han, sir. She can explain it better than I can.”

Jim gave a quick nod. “And you, Mr. DelMonde?” he said, turning to the engineer. “You won’t do this?”

“He not got not’ing I want,” Del insisted.

“You’ve served here for nearly a year, Lieutenant,” Kirk countered, “and I’ve learned a great deal more about you than I knew when you signed aboard. And first and foremost is that you’re a survivor. Life can’t be easy with your level of gifts, and yes, you sometimes take that out on people who don’t deserve it – but I think it’s your sarcasm and cynicism that keeps you from losing yourself in other people’s emotions. You’re one of the most stubborn men I know, but your strategic skills are superb. You’ve also evidenced a great deal of native cunning, as well as the ability to revise plans on the fly when necessary.” He paused, meeting DelMonde’s eyes challengingly. “And frankly,” he concluded, “I didn’t see any of that in Noel Duhon.”

“So foul-tempered sombitch a resumé point now?” the engineer derided.

“What about your telepathy, Del?” Sulu asked cautiously.

“An’ what good that do me?” the Cajun roared, standing up and knocking over the chair on which he’d been sitting. “What good it ever do me but let me know how damn crazy ever’body t’ink I am, what a strange an’ wild an’ dangerous child, boy, adolescent, man! It let me know ever’t’ing I not ever wanna know, an’ makes me t’ink on ways t’ use all it tells me! An’ you all want me t’ need that?”

“Calm down, Del…” Sulu began.

“I know you’re afraid…” Jim, too, started.

“I ain’t fuckin’ afraid!” Del snarled

“Mr. DelMonde, I know how frightening this is,” Kirk said, his voice rising over the engineer’s rant. “You can deny that you’re afraid all you want, but I know it. I’ve seen it in the mirror. You don’t want to face it, you don’t want to need anything from something so selfish, so thoughtless, so horrible. But we all need our beasts, Mr. DelMonde.” His voice became sharp, as piercing as any phaser beam. “We all need our beasts. We can hate them, and deny them all we want, but in the end, this is the final truth. We need them.”

Listen to him, Cajun, Kam’s voice whispered in Del’s mind. It’s the only thing that’s likely to hold off the retribution you so richly deserve.

Del’s head whipped around to stare accusingly at Sulu, but there was nothing but concern and sorrow in the dark almond eyes.

“He’s telling the truth, Del,” Sulu said.

“Mr. Sulu knows, like I do,” Jim rejoined. “He’s faced his beast. So have I. And all I wanted to do was let you know there’s someone who knows what you’re going through.” He paused. “And someone who is willing, if he can, to help.”

Del stood, his chest rising and falling in angry breaths. “You wanna accept th’ Divine Wind, huh?” he managed in a dark rasp.

“Like the captain said,” Sulu replied. “I don’t think I get a choice.”

“But you got th’ damn shojis…”

“And you have the innate strength that’s kept him so far under wraps that the only thing that gets out is the foul-tempered son of a bitch,” Sulu pointed out.

Del struggled for several seconds, emotions racing in his eyes while his head thundered. He swallowed, blinking, trying to find some sense of equilibrium.

And yet, Don DelMonde isn’t crowding you out, is he? Kam chuckled. Imagine how fast I’d be out if Mr. Pathetique was under this much stress?

‘Don DelMonde’ not an alternate… Del began in a growl.

By George, he’s got it!

The Cajun shuddered, taking deep breaths, and finally growling an answer to Sulu’s question. “You t’ink so?”

“I know so,” Sulu said, the beginnings of a genuine grin pulling at his lips.

“And so do I,” Jim Kirk added. “The only way your dark half will control you is if you let it – and I think I know you well enough by now to know that as long as you can help it, you won’t.”

“I wish I that sure, Captain,” the engineer mumbled.

“Give it time, Mr. DelMonde,” the captain said. “Just give it time. And remember, I’m always here to talk.” He held the gazes of his officers for a short time longer, then nodded. “Dismissed.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Sulu said sincerely as he and Del left the office.

“Suck-up,” Del grunted.

“Stubborn ass.”

“Toady.”

“Self-destructive fool.”

“Sheee-it, we gonna sound like Daffy an’ Ruth in a minute here.”

After a short pause, Sulu pointed out, “You said her name, you know.”

“Yeah? What of it?”

It means you forgive her, Kam said, then chuckled at Del’s scowl.

“Nothing, Del,” Sulu said aloud, his voice carrying an undertone of contentment. “Nothing at all.”

“So what was with the abomination?”

Ruth turned at Daffy’s dry statement. They’d been working on checking the new samples the Theraxan colonists had sent up; Starfleet wanted an answer on the apparently designer genetics-tampering imparted by the cometary spores. The only thing the analyzers had been able to come up with was they’d never analyzed anything quite like it. It had elements from half a dozen medical and technological advances from half a dozen different cultures combined in a way they had yet been able to explain. The Fabrini medical database was being searched, but so far, even their extensive knowledge was proving uninformative.

“What abomination?” Ruth replied as casually as she could.

“My Pasha, apparently,” was Gollub’s response.

“I beg your…?”

“And don’t give me the Majiir act,” the chemist replied sternly. “Or tell me with nauseating innocence that you don’t remember.” She folded her arms. “Her Golden Ultra-Bitchness said Pavel was an abomination. Explain it.”

“Uh – it uh – I guess it had to do with – something about – I suppose because he’s…” Ruth evaded.

“Spit it out, Valley, or I’ll encourage Del to have a chat with the hubby about Mr. Mafia and stolen kisses.”

Ruth made a face. “You would, wouldn’t you?”

“You bet your ass I would.” Daffy sighed. “Look, be a mensch. Pavel’s brooding, and when there’s brooding, there’s no sex. And after I had to spill my guts, I can’t talk him out of it with my usual charm unless you give me something else to crowd my true confessions out of his tiny brain.”

“Did you really tell him everything?” Ruth wanted to know.

“As everything as we had time for. Quit stalling.”

“I’m not stalling, I’m just concerned for…”

“Spock!” Daffy shouted. Ruth grabbed her, putting a hand over her mouth.

“Okay, okay!” She glanced around, making sure her husband wasn’t responding to Daffy’s call. “There isn’t much I can tell you…” she began.

“Can’t or won’t?” Gollub interrupted.

“Yes. Chekov’s a psi-null. On Antares, that’s unheard of…”

“Which is why they have a name for it,” Daffy quipped sarcastically.

“What they have a name for is the concept,” Ruth corrected sternly. “The idea of a being with absolutely no psychic signature is beyond Antari comprehension. If such a being existed, it would be an abomination to them. Hence, the word.”

Daffy narrowed her eyes. “Her Mega-Brattiness didn’t seem shocked down to her socks which she wasn’t wearing,” she countered. “There was no ‘oy God, what the hell is that!’ going on. She knew what he was. She just didn’t want to be near him. Although, she sure as shit wanted Evil Del as near him as possible.”

Ruth fidgeted, not looking at her friend. “Well…” she said at last, “there might be legends about – something like that. Antari myths or…”

“Scary bedtime stories for the kiddies?” Gollub guessed. “And just what would the big, bad, psi-null monster do in these tales?”

Ruth murmured so quietly that Daffy didn’t quite catch it.

“What?” she demanded.

“Uh – drain the energy out of them,” the Antari repeated a little more loudly.

“What!?”

“Drain them, you know, of all psychic energy, all their abilities…”

“Oy geveult, you’re saying my Pavel’s a nephilim?”

Ruth blinked. “A what?”

“And you call yourself a Jew?” the chemist snorted. “A fallen one, a child of Lilith, a psychic vampire!”

“That’s not what nephilim means…”

“Read the Kaballah, schmegege.”

“This is Antari, not Hebrew,” Ruth frowned.

“And is that what you’re saying?” Daffy retorted, not to be distracted.

“All I’m saying is that that’s what an Antari would mean by the word ‘abomination’ – someone who can drain psychic abilities,” Ruth repeated. “Apparently, that’s what the Antari in me thought Pavel was.”

“Which would explain why she wanted him near Del Of Darkness?” Daffy asked. “So he couldn’t pick up on your and Kam’s little trick?”

Ruth glanced away. “It was the only way…”

“And I’m not disagreeing,” the chemist put in quickly. “But just so you know, Del feels pretty damn betrayed.”

“He should,” Ruth managed past the sudden lump in her throat. “He was.”

There was a long pause, then Daffy drew in a careful breath. “So is he?”

“Is…?”

“Is Pavel an abomination? Can he actually drain psychic energy?”

“He’s psi-null, Daf. How the hell should I know?”

“The Antari did.”

“And I’m not her!” Ruth blustered. “Well, not all of her – I mean all of me – I mean… I don’t think Antari – not all the time!” she finished in exasperation.

“A ‘what does she know?’ would’ve done the trick,” Daffy told her.

“Yeah, okay – what does she know?”

After another pause, Daffy said, “So I’m just gonna tell Pavel that Miss Wonder Of The Universe was trying to fuck with his head – which is better than her trying to fuck with any other part of him because if she had, I’d have to kill you. You good with that?”

Ruth nodded. “Yeah. I’m perfect with that.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s get back to work before your husband comes in here and raises his eyebrow at us.”

Daffy returned to her station, and Ruth put scary bedtime stories out of her mind.

Jim Kirk looked up from his deck as he was closing the comm on yet another frustrating call from Starfleet Command. He didn’t have the answers they were demanding. He was fairly certain that he wasn’t going to. Ever. All the research done by the Science Departments of three Federation heavy cruisers hadn’t figured out where the designer doomsday threat had come from, nor how it had been assembled, nor how it had gotten into a comet nor how that comet had deposited it as spores over the Theraxan planets.

“Spock,” he said to his visitor, “do we know anything?”

The Vulcan placed his hands behind his back. “Very little, Captain,” he answered. “But I believe I have a possible answer nonetheless.”

“An answer with very little information?” Jim returned. “Is this the Vulcan or the Human talking?”

“I am both, sir,” Spock replied, one eyebrow lifting.

Jim chuckled. “Of course you are.” He gestured to a chair. “Sit, and tell me your theory.”

Spock did so, his hands coming together, fingers interlaced before he spoke. “It was the fact that the components of this substance seem to come from many cultures which suggests this, Captain. Also, the source of the spores themselves – a comet – and the method of delivery. It seems 94.136 percent certain that there is only one possible origin; beings who have access to several unrelated cultures, the power to combine diverse materials in ways we do not as yet understand, and the ability to achieve something on this grand a scale.”

Jim’s eyes widened, his mind following the thread of his first Officer’s thoughts. “Seeders, Spock?” he said. “The Seeders!?”

Spock nodded. “No other explanation makes sense, sir.”

“But why? Why would they want to create a doomsday device?”

“I do not believe that is what this was,” the Vulcan posited.

“What else can you call something which can destroy the equipment necessary to create a modern colony, and to simultaneously infect such a colony’s food source?”

“May I remind you, Captain, that it was the combination of the spores with an existing ore within the composition of the planet which caused the disadvantageous affects.” Spock paused. “As well as the unexpected introduction of xenoneurophene – a Human-created substance. It seems unlikely that the Seeders could have foreseen such a confluence of events.”

“Omnipotent but not omniscient,” Jim mused. “They set things in motion, and have stayed around to fix messes, but they can’t determine where or when those messes occur.”

“They are cultivators more than mere planters,” Spock noted.

“So...” Jim said slowly, “the original intent of the spores was…?”

“Something we may never know, sir. Perhaps an attempt to influence evolution. Perhaps the seeds of some new life form.”

“Or perhaps an attention signal.”

“Sir?”

“Some way to let the Seeders know that there was another garden to tend. After all, if this substance interacts with modern technology, it would certainly alert someone who was watching that there was such technology present.” He paused. “This wasn’t necessarily meant for us. If the spores were deposited here, and, say, a hundred thousand years from now, some indigenous life form evolved to the point where they were using what is, to us, modern techniques…”

Spock frowned. “Are you suggesting, Captain, that the Seeders manufacture crises so that they have an excuse to intervene?”

Jim shrugged. “Mysterious are the ways of the gods, Spock.” He paused again. “Of course, there is another possible interpretation.”

Spock’s eyebrow rose in question.

“Maybe there are rivals factions within the Seeders.”

Spock blinked. “That hardly seems…”

“Logical?” Jim gave a wry grin. “Read up on Greek, Roman, Egyptian, Norse or any other mythology you care to,” he suggested. “The gods are nearly always a jealous lot.”

Spock clearly considered this, then stood. “Is that what you will tell Command, Jim? ‘The gods are nearly always a jealous lot’?”

“Not on a bet Mr. Spock,” Jim chuckled. “I’ll just have to keep giving them the facts. We simply don’t know.”

“A wise choice, Captain,” Spock agreed, and left the office.

After her discussion with Daffy, Ruth fought with the urge to go and talk to Del. It wouldn’t change anything, she knew. There wasn’t any way she could mitigate what her Antari half had done, and she didn’t think the Zehara’s concise explanation would make much of a dent: If I was completely Antari, I would have done what she did but I’m not so I didn’t didn’t make much sense when he was hurting from what had actually happened. The fact that she – the hybrid who still loved him – would NOT have done what Pure Antari did wouldn’t make him feel any better and would lead to discussions far too uncomfortable for either one of them in their present states. So instead she sent him a soft, telepathic, I’m sorry, and went to her cabin.

She stopped before the door, letting the memory of the romantic, all-Human man she’d last made love to in that cabin sweep into her heart, then quietly locked it away there. She’d never hurt Spock with it, so she could never think of it again. She sighed, set her features into her usual bright smile, and opened the door.

Music greeted her, soft yet overwhelming, and she recognized it immediately. It was a recording from the Valley Collection; John Lennon, post-Beatle:

Click here to hear the song.

Woman, I can hardly express
My mixed emotions and my thoughtlessness
After all, I'm forever in your debt.
And woman, I will try to express
My inner feelings and thankfulness
For showing me the meaning of success.

Her heart skipped a beat, the memory she had just locked away flowing out in waves of breathless hope, followed immediately by equal waves of chagrin. Daniel…

Woman, I know you understand
The little child inside a man, John Lennon’s voice sang.
Please remember, my life is in your hands.

And you will serve when the time comes, ani Ramy, the Zehara whispered.

The music continued:

And woman, hold me close to your heart.
However distant, don't keep us apart.
After all it is written in the stars.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, blinking away tears as the meaning of the song began to burrow itself into her awareness.

The cabin door closed behind her and Spock approached her, wearing his at-home meditation robe. He held her favorite piece of lingerie in his hands.

Woman, please let me explain, the song pleaded.
I never meant to cause you sorrow or pain.

I said you would see me again, my beloved, Spock murmured into her thoughts, and it wasn’t Daniel, nor was it the Vulcan, but the man she had loved since she’d first seen his holo on a computer screen in Haifa. The tears fell in joyful acceptance of the truth that glowed between them and she rushed to his arms.

So who needs lingerie? she returned with Antari impishness and Human adoration.

So let me tell you again and again and again:
I love you, yeah, yeah, now and forever…

The End