Star Trek RPG - Mission #2: "Primum Nil Nocere"

Kylah continues with her duties, looking forward to heading to her quarters and putting a better lockdown on the log files. She doesn't want to do so here on the Bridge, with half the command crew nearby.

During her shift, she does find herself wondering about tonight's dinner. What will Collins be like in command of the mission? Will their initial coolness have a negative effect on Kylah's assignment? If the other woman follows Starfleet regs by the book, this shouldn't be the case, but there's no accounting for human nature, even if the Federation thinks all negative, petty qualities can be eradicated -- or "peace treatied" -- away.

As much as she hates protocol, she grew up learning how to deal with both equals and so-called inferiors. Once the truth was out about her parentage, she'd belatedly learned about dealing with superiors too. Unfortunately, by then it was too late; it was hard to adjust so abruptly to her change in status from favored child and possible future Dohlman to just above a house servant. Now, with her role in Starfleet, she's moved back up a few notches in the Elasian hierarchy... depending on how much she can do for her planet. She's pledged loyalty to Federation and Starfleet, but there is a deeper loyalty that requires no pledge: blood loyalty. Her siblings expect it, her Guardian expects it. And even Kylah expects it of herself.

So if all these loyalties demand obedience to a superior officer with whom she hasn't exactly bonded, so be it. Kylah can, and will, do what is necessary to fulfill her responsibilities. Once the mission unofficially begins at dinner, she will be as obliging and dutiful as anyone could ask of a Starfleet Ensign.

If this shift ever ends, she thinks, glancing discreetly at her chronometer.

Kylah's watch comes to an end in due course. The Captain thanks her for her work as Lt. JG Soerjosoemarno arrives with a smile to relieve her.

Collins and Cooper continue their conversation about... well, you know.

Pourtash shows up in the Shuttlebay at the appointed hour, and finds seven other crewmates there in a variety of Earth and offworld soccer gear, just starting to warm up. There are five men and two women. Ens. Carlos Alvarez, a medical research tech from Argentina, is setting out boundary markers for the "field." A green, thin, spongy synthetic deck covering is already spread out. Alvarez notices Pourtash, walks up, introduces himself and shakes the helmsman's hand. "Hey, I heard you might be coming. Always glad to have another player. Have you played shipboard before?"

T'Var finds that another seven cell lines have died since she last checked. She still has more than enough viable lines for the Sakathians, however.

Watch over, Kylah nearly sprints the whole way to her quarters, barring a Turbolift or two. She hesitates before entering, but then lifts her chin. They're my quarters too. If she wants to entertain half the Tholian fleet in there, she can bloody well lock the door. Head held high, Kylah marches in--and finds no one there. Good.

Quickly she heads to the computer panel near her bunk and logs in to her comm account. A few voice commands later, she's encrypted the purloined staff logs so tightly it'll take all of the engineering staff a few days to finesse their way inside--and that's only if they really want to find the libretto and score to her fake zither composition, Fifty Generations of Warrior Might: A Multipart Ode to the Elasian Royalty. It's her standard cover file for secrets of all kinds, with the actual logs hidden within the zither tabulature unique to Elas.

She sits back on her bunk, smiling. The best part is, even with the extra "notes" thanks to the staff logs and myriad other secret files she keeps in here, the hideous composition still sounds better than most modern music on Elas.

T'Var is a bit flustered by the death of more cell lines. She will continue to research the problem and hopefully find a solution.

Of course, Dr. Waite would probably know exactly why the cell lines were dying and how to stop it.

The doctor sighs heavily and prepares for dinner.

Pourtash and the others have a fun game of soccer, but it ends all too soon. He knows he'd like to do it again sometime, and Alvarez and the other players make it clear that he'd be welcome back.

T'Var sees that the automatic nutrient dispensers for two of the cell lines malfunctioned and turned off. The other five lines just died.

Kylah dozes off and then realizes upon awakening that it's almost time for dinner. She doesn't see Collins in their quarters until she leaves for the Mess Hall.



Collins met Cooper in the Mess Hall earlier. She said, "Hi Ben. Thanks for meeting me early. Let's sit - I have news." She took his hands between her own. "I had my physical this morning. I'm perfectly healthy - healthy enough for two, in fact."

He stared at her for a moment, stunned. "You mean...."

"Yes. We're pregnant. I haven't decided yet what to do. I just knew I had to talk to you first." Jeremi smiled a little. She was never good at reading what was behind a stunned expression.

He squeezed her hands and smiled a little uncertainly. "Are you sure? I mean, is it possible they made a mistake?"

"I'm pretty sure they double-checked before they told me. Dr. T'Var ran to talk to the CMO before telling me." Jeremi took a deep breath. "I wasn't ready for this, but I'm not sure what I want to do. Maybe we could find a surrogate and have it transplanted? Or have it put in stasis until I'm, uh, we're ready?" She took another breath "...or I could terminate it."

He frowned. "I don't know of any way to transplant the baby before birth, or put it in stasis, but what the hell, I'm no doctor." He sighed. "Seems odd to refer to the baby as 'it.' Did they tell you the gender? Do you even want to know just now?"

Collins noticed that he doesn't mention abortion. "First, I need to know if you're in this with me. I will not do it alone. Second, IF we keep it, as opposed to adoption or abortion, then we can talk about finding out ahead of time or being surprised in nine months." It occurred to Jeremi that she really doesn't know all that much about Ben. She knows they are sexually compatible, and enjoy each others' company in other activities. But does he have siblings? Are his parents still living? What part of America is he from? Her expression got more serious. "Ben, we don't know each other very well, really. We have to really look at all the factors."

He said slowly, "I agree. This is just... well, this is a lot to think about. I hoped to be a father someday, but not, well, not now, you know? I have a career, and so do you. Having a baby would change all that."

"I'm right there with you on the whole 'not now' thing. Okay, I will talk to Drs. Villa and T'Var tomorrow and find out my options." Jeremi sighed, half out of relief and half out of disappointment. "The others should be arriving soon. Let's get our food."

"Uh... OK," he says. He seems relieved.

Rangin arrives and greets them warmly. If he notices their somewhat distracted air, he pretends not to notice as he goes to get a sandwich and coffee.

Collins's dialogue is by anyrose; Cooper's is by me. My thanks to anyrose for her help!

T'Var will have the dispensers repaired right away. This explains two cell deaths, but not the other five. There must be a logical reason for it. At the moment, T'Var is at a loss as to why.

Putting her frustration aside for now, the doctor heads to the Mess Hall for dinner.

When Kylah arrives at the Mess Hall, she sees that Dr. T'Var and Collins are already there; Collins is fetching food with that attractive man Kylah saw her with last night. Kylah feels uncomfortable around them for some reason. No, not just "some reason." She senses their intimate connection--anyone with two eyes can see it--and Kylah's always felt like an intruder around people bound together in such a way, even when it's a casual pairing. She has no idea whether Collins and this man are casual or headed for matrimony, but it makes no difference. She's still awkward around them.

So she hangs back and waits until they're finished selecting their meals before she heads up to grab something marginally edible, nodding a greeting to T'var on her way. She heads back to the table to sit beside Ens. Rangin, who--though they haven't met officially--probably has more in common with Kylah than almost anyone else. Rangin's planet is also a recent addition to the Federation, and, like Elas, has been the focus of a longstanding tug-of-war due to its dilithium deposits. And on a personal note, it's nice to sit with someone so close to her own height.

She introduces herself to her dining partner and waits for the others to join the table. She's not nearly as hungry for food as she is for the details of the mission. Her mission--the first of many, if she distinguishes herself.

Kylah barely chokes down a bite of her meal. She feels almost electric with anticipation.

T'Var joins Kylah and Rangin.

"Your first mission as a member of Starfleet is something you will remember for the rest of your life," the doctor tells Kylah. "Savor it and remember what an honor it is to wear this uniform."

Collins returns to the table and greets T'Var, Kylah, and Rangin. "Everyone have a good day?" She sits and takes a bit of her eggplant parmigiana.

Rangin greets Kylah in a friendly way. He also answers Collins, "Pretty good. I spent most of the day looking after the beasts we're taking to the Sakathians. The storks and the capybaras are doing fine, but man, are those Regulan bloodworms feisty! They'd rip your throat out if you gave them half a chance. I'll be glad to get them off the ship."

Ens. Hayes arrives shortly afterwards, gets her dinner and sits down with a cheery "Hello, everyone!"

Delaney quietly takes his seat with a large bowl of Tomato Florentine and some fresh bread. "Good Evening to all of you."

T'Var sighs. "My cell lines keep dying," she says with a serious tone. "Most irritating."

The doctor then realizes she did not get herself anything to eat. She is intrigued by the wonderful smell of Delaney's dinner and decides to get herself the same.

"Ensign Kylah," Collins turns to her cabinmate, "we kind of got off on the wrong foot, didn't we. It's just I have a short sarcasm fuse. It tends to go off at the least little thing." She smiles at Kylah, "And I'm promise to check with you before I next bring Ben home. Are we okay?"


When Dr. T'Var returns to the table, Collins suggests T'var ask Delaney or someone else from Engineering to examine the hardware for tampering. "We still aren't sure who was involved with the snafu at the end of the last mission."

"An excellent idea," T'Var tells Collins. "To be quite honest, I had not thought of that possibility."

Kylah looks carefully at Collins. Something is off here; the other woman is putting on a good poker face but there's disquiet behind her eyes.

But there are too many people around them and Kylah can't--and doesn't particularly want to-- focus on her roommate's every mood, so she shuts off her internal inspection beacon and gives Collins a reserved nod. "Of course, Lieutenant. I look forward to serving with you, and your gracious apology is unnecessary but accepted, and returned in kind."

Kylah waits until Collins turns to T'Var before taking a sip of water. Who says I cannot pass a diplomacy test? she thinks, smiling into her glass. Just watch me, Captain Becker. I'll show you up for that failing grade yet.

Rangin says to Collins, "Are you suggesting sabotage? If someone really wanted to make life unpleasant for us, they'd free the slime devils. A few cell lines here and there don't seem like much of a problem, really."

Hayes raises an eyebrow and says, "I suspect Dr. T'Var doesn't see it quite the same."

"I was not present for the last mission, but know enough about it to understand the concern Mr. Collins has," T'Var says evenly. "We must remain vigilant -- while on this current mission and while on board the Yorktown."

T'Var takes a spoonful of soup. She likes the flavor and makes a mental note to add it to her growing list of tasty human foods.

"Even the smallest incident could be significant," the doctor says.

Kylah frowns a little and darts her glance from T'Var to Collins, asking bluntly, "By 'snafu' do you mean the still-unexplained death of one of your prisoners? I would certainly agree that barring a solution to that alleged crime, we-- that is, the ship's command crew," she amends quickly, "--must assume that there is potential for sabotage, and perhaps Mr. Collins is correct in suspecting it here."

She wants to add that she thought life was precious to these Federation officers, yet it seems unbelievably odd that the lack of an answer to that man's mysterious death seems not to have been placed at a high priority. But her failure at diplomacy in the Acadamy doesn't mean she's a complete boor, so she remains silent on this and changes the subject. "May I ask, what is our estimated schedule, sir? When will each of us receive our individual billet for the mission?"

"I'll be sending everything out in the morning," Collins tells her dinner companions, "Tonight is just about getting to know each other a little better." She looks around the table. It amazes her how little she knows about these people whose lives will shortly be in her hands. "I am from Earth, America, specifically eastern New York State. I joined the academy right out of high school, I served on the USS Pegasus before transferring to the Enterprise. I am closer with my Grandmother than I am with my parents. Nana will be 154 this year. She still goes out every day to be with friends. I hope I get to live that long. She tells the greatest stories about the 21st Century."

Fujishiro, who's just arrived, and Rangin follow Collins's lead.

Fujishiro says, "I'm the Assistant Science Officer and Physics Officer. I'm from a big family and was raised in Kyoto, Japan, on Earth. I served aboard the Hood and the Merrimack before being posted to the Yorktown." She holds up her teacup and smiles. "And I love tea!"

Rangin says, "I'm from Coridan, and I've always liked learning about, and working with, animals of all kinds. I'm very pleased to be the ship's xenobiologist. I previously served on the Lexington, and know Mr. Pourtash a little from our time aboard together. I'm really looking forward to this mission, assuming the slime devils don't kill me first."

Kylah is curious to hear from Delaney and Pourtash, but just as she knew she shouldn't be presumptuous enough to introduce herself first, she certainly doesn't want the attention of speaking last.

"I am the assistant communications officer, fortunate enough to have been posted to the Yorktown right after graduating from the Academy. My specialty is language translation unassisted by technology." Realizing that the others have added some personal trivia, Kylah hurries on: "As far as I am aware, I am the first member of Starfleet from Elas, where my family has--"

She hesitates; right here is usually where T'Var cuts her off. Not wishing to get more well-intentioned but inadvertently dismissive words of advice from the otherwise kind Vulcan, Kylah concludes her sentence with something that's surely banal enough to meet T'Var's approval: "--where my family has supported my arduous path from incompetence to proficiency in Elasian instrumental music performance."

Well, it's not a lie, she thinks dryly as she exhales in relief. Mother and Father weren't unsupportive, anyway.

"Yeah, about that," Collins says "My grandmother's zither is shaped more like the sound board of a baby grand piano than the artistically shaped one you've got. I apologize for being flippant about it."

Jeremi still senses a chill coming from her cabin mate, but she hopes it will thaw before the mission starts.

Delaney speaks up, he starts slowly but then of course picks up speed in his rambling enthusiastic way, "I was born in New York myself, but raised on the Heinlein. One of the oldest L5s orbiting Earth. Indeed the Heinlein was second in recognition to his inspiring humanities entering space. It was followed by the Clark & Asimov. My father runs the Engineering plant of the Heinlein. I used to help him out a lot as a youngster. I knew all the access and hidden areas of the Heinlein by the time I was 13. My Mom is a surgeon for the Hospital. She may be up for head surgeon soon. Old Doc Patel is talking retirement. My sister Pam is studying at John Hopkins to be a Doctor and my brother Marty is doing well at Star Fleet academy. He is training to be a xenosociologist.

I don't really know my grandparents very well. My father's parents were on Earth and rarely seen in person and my Mother's parents had emigrated to Alpha V colony. I understand they are doing well.

I guess some of you already know, I love tinkering and engineering and even programming. I've wanted to be an Engineer from a very young age. Let me know if I can help any of you with anything.

I'm curious about the Zither now. I honestly don't know much about musical instruments. A hole in my studies I guess."

T'Var clears her throat. Vulcans tend to keep their personal lives private, but the doctor wants to fit in with her crewmates. She speaks slowly and chooses her words carefully.

"Obviously, I am from Vulcan," she begins with a slight smile. "I have no musical abilities, but certainly appreciate those who do."

T'Var looks around her, pondering just how much she should share about herself.

"My academic background includes the Raal Prefectural Medical Institution and, of course, the Starfleet School of Medicine. I served aboard the Constitution prior to my posting here."

The doctor stares at her food a moment, then concludes with, "I enjoy meditation, competitive sports and -- as many of you know -- a good game of traditional chess now and again."

With that, T'Var takes another sip of her delicious soup.

"There is no need to apologize," Kylah says to Collins. On Elas a proper apology to her would have involved kneeling, but after her years at the Academy she's grown used to the far less formal behavior of Earth-raised citizens.

Curiously, one of the words in Collins' comments causes a faint shimmer of... something, some emotion, some worry... Even as Delaney speaks, Kylah keeps a noncommital expression on her face but wonders at the cause of what she's sensing.

She gives a mental shrug and switches her gaze to Delaney as his speech grows more rapid and enthusiastic. Kylah almost smiles at him, and then when he addresses her directly, she feels even more like doing so. But bestowing smiles lightly isn't her way.

"We are equally ignorant in our own way, Mr. Delaney; engineering is a gaping hole in my own background, aside from the requirements at the Academy. Fortunately, as Mr. Collins said, my zither is entirely hand-crafted, not technological. It is carved from a single flat stone, with spun crystal wires for 'strings'. One dampens one's fingers, then brushes them against the strands to play. Almost nothing can break the stone, but anything other than the lightest touch will shatter the strings. It is a construction typically found on Elas; strong, almost indestructable casings contrasted by the delicate and precious elements within."

A combination that had caused her plenty of bloodied fingers while learning how to play the instrument. Her fumbling touch had turned the glittering crystal strands into shards far too often. Fortunately artisans were always available to hand-spin more crystal into new strings, and she was eventually able to avoid further injury to herself as well as the beautiful but exasperating zither.

Kylah nearly invites Delaney to see the zither, but catches herself. The mission is not some excuse to create bonds of familiarity, although most of the others here at the table--with encouragement from the mission leader, to be sure--seem to believe so.

Instead she listens silently as T'Var speaks, inwardly amused by the pleasure the doctor is clearly taking from her meal.

Pourtash stays quiet during the introductions. Some of it, he's heard before, but there's plenty that's new to him. His face is impassive, while internally he's experiencing a conflict. All of this talk about family members and specifically where people are from seems as though it could lead into sharing things that might be better left unsaid. Then again, his surname isn't that unusual and his origins on Deneva Prime are no secret. It would be far too easy for someone to find out, if they had any interest. He'll just have to hope that interest doesn't come up. Or, if it does, they have the decency to never say anything.

"I was born and raised on Deneva Prime. I always sort of envied those of you from Earth and all those direct ties to the land," he comments, offering a brief wry look towards Delaney and Collins. "I'm the oldest in my family, with two younger sisters. I'm sure they were breathing sighs of relief to no longer have me around once I finally left the colony. Academically, I specialized in astrophysics and astronomy, though it had actually briefly been difficult for me to decide on that. I'd debated devoting my life to art instead at one point." He smirks a little. "I can't play any musical instruments, though. Any talent I might have is strictly related to the visual arts."

He pauses and takes a sip of his tea. There. Not even a mention of the existence of his parents, but perfectly friendly.

"If you were ever interested in letting someone catch a glimpse of that zither, I'd love to see it, Kylah. It sounds like an exquisite construction."

T'Var listens intently as everyone shares a bit about themselves. She senses that all have something to hide, secrets they hope will remain as such.

The doctor understands completely. She holds her own secrets deep within.

When Ensign Cooper joins the table, Collins introduces him to everyone. "And in case you don't already know, we're dating." Jeremi smiles warmly at Ben, then gives the others big "cat-who-got-the-canary" grin.

Cooper smiles a little bashfully at Collins and mumbles, "Hello, everyone" to the rest of the table. He is uncharacteristically shy, those who know him can see.

Pourtash offers Cooper a nod and a smile in greeting. Collins hadn't introduced him as her boyfriend before, but it had been obvious enough any time they were seen together. "I thought I'd recognized your stamp of ownership on him, Collins," he jokes lightly.

Collins raises an eyebrow at Pourtash, but smiles anyway. She enjoys another bite of her dinner, then looks around the table. "I guess now is as good a time as any" she says, "Here's the plan: Lt. JG Pourtash and I will oversee the mission and cover whatever security needs arise. Ensigns Hayes and Kylah, you'll be our voice in any discussions with the Sakathians; your communications and diplomacy skills will serve us well, I'm sure. Mr. Delaney, you'll make yourself available for whatever the joint Sakathian-Federation scientific team needs from an Engineering standpoint. Dr. T'Var, you'll be available for their bioscience and medical needs, please; I'd like you to work directly with Dr. Waite. Mr. Fujishiro, I'll need your input on scientific issues, and Mr. Rangin, you'll ensure that the transfer of the lifeforms goes smoothly, and advise the Sakathians as to care, diet, containment and so on. Everyone will bring a phaser-1, set to stun. Weapons are to be used in emergencies only, of course. Other than that, standard offship gear. Although the Yorktown is scheduled to stay in Sakathian space for two weeks, we don't yet know how long our boarding party will remain on the research station," she pauses, trying to gage everyone's reactions, " Of course, I welcome your input on all matters," Jeremi raises her coffee mug "To a successful mission."

Pourtash's turn to talk comes and Kylah is glad to focus on the kind young man, one of the few crewpeople who's been neither condescending, professorial, or flat out sarcastic to her. He's seems to be the sort of person Kylah both admires and finds somewhat incomprehensible: a good-natured, easygoing, genuinely happy individual.

...Which is why the moment she faces him and he begins to talk, and she stares into his eyes, she's utterly unprepared for the flood of emotions that overwhelm her. Her face burns with embarrassment, discomfort, and.... and something else. Something that frightens her. She's at a loss and can hardly listen to a word he says--until the words Deneva Prime belatedly manage to force their way into her head. The strange instinct to reach out and touch his hand is almost impossible to fight, but of course she fights it, successfully.

And now he's saying her name. Why? She remembers him mentioning something--oh, the zither. The stupid zither. It seems so unimportant. But at least he's smiling gently, though perhaps she's the only one in close enough proximity to notice that the expression feels just a tiny bit forced. And she's impelled by another instinct--the need to keep that smile on this face.

"Yes, Mr. Pourtash," she says softly, more so than intended. She strengthens her voice. "Of course I would be glad to show you the zither, if it is truly of interest."

"It is. The way you described it sounds fascinating," Pourtash assures Kylah. It almost makes him wish he could play an instrument, just so he could appreciate it better. Just like calculating data or piloting a ship, he always did find it more pleasurable to truly experience something by direct manipulation.

He goes quiet again to listen attentively to Collins' plan for the team. It sounds logical enough and he sees nothing to add commentary to, though he's somewhat curious if she might have plans she hasn't mentioned. She'd been so interested in Sakathian history with other races before. Of course, having nothing to ask about or suggest now doesn't mean it won't come up later. He's still a bit concerned about that, as he knows he and Collins don't always agree. He raises his mug of tea and echoes her sentiment.

Kylah nods to Pourtash and turns away again, relieved that the newcomer, Collins's friend Cooper, is breaking the atmosphere she's been feeling and adding some needed levity. Then Collins gives them their run-down of the mission -- skills in diplomacy, that almost makes Kylah laugh -- and it's time to perform the Earth-based drinking ceremony. She lifts the glass in front of her. If there was one thing she learned at the Academy, it's that humans certainly do love their drinking ceremonies.

Toast completed, she drinks and sets the glass back down, looking at the miniature waves in the clear water. As excited as she's been about the mission, she can't shake the little undercurrent that's now buzzing through her: fear.

T'Var does not have a glass to raise, so she stands. "A toast to our mission leader," she says. "And, of course, to Starfleet."

"To Starfleet" Collins chimes in, hurrying to bypass the as yet unwarranted salute.

The rest of the dinner is very pleasant, as you each get to know the others a bit better, and discuss the mission ahead. Cooper doesn't stay for coffee or tea and is the first to leave, giving Collins a peck on the cheek and whispering, "We should talk more sometime soon." He doesn't respond to her comm messages for the next two days, however.

The Yorktown finally approaches the Sakathian system. As the starship crosses the orbit of the outermost planet, Singh is in the big chair at the center of the Bridge, Kylah is at the Communications console, Pourtash is at the Helm, Collins is at Security, Delaney is at Engineering, and T'Var is at Life Sciences. Lt. JG Bennett is at Navigation and Lt. JG Gral, the Tellarite botanist, is at Sciences.

The Captain turns slightly in her chair and says to Kylah, "Hail the research station."

Heartbeat thrumming, Kylah follows her captain's orders. "Aye sir. Channel open."

Collins is too excited about the mission to worry too much about Cooper, she just assumes he was overwhelmed by meeting everyone at once. And that other matter can wait until the mission is over, she tells herself.

Pourtash is quite pleased to be at the Helm as they approach. He imagines his duties will be fairly routine, but the chance to be on the Bridge when something exciting is happening is always a chance to be relished.

Delaney is checking his sensors and ensure all is green to go.

T'Var checks each panel at Life Sciences. She is calm and ready for this mission.

Of course, Dr. Waite is at the back of her mind. They have not seen each other in years. Medical school seems such a distant memory now. She is certain they will be able to work together -- despite whatever issues might remain from their past.

All of your consoles show the ship's condition is excellent. On the Bridge's main viewscreen, you see the research station grow larger: a long, thin structure of spindly pale-yellow metal, with several domes of varying sizes clinging to it. Collins and Delaney note from Gral's preliminary scan that it's about twice the length of your ship, but of considerably less mass. Two small spacecraft share an orbit with the station. The sunlit arc of Sakath V is just beyond.

Kylah soon has a response to her hail. "Incoming transmission from the station, Captain," she reports.

"Thank you, Mr. Kylah. Onscreen."

The starfield and station disappear, replaced by a woman in a severe, dark red jacket. She has grayish skin just like those Sakathians shown in Ens. Hayes's briefing. She says, "USS Yorktown, this is Director Yinitril Geb of the Sakathian Science Directorate. Welcome to our star system. We are glad to have you here. You are right on time." Her accent is curiously clipped and she does not smile. "Am I addressing Capt. S.P. Singh?"

"You are, and thank you, Director Geb," the Captain replies. "We're looking forward to our visit. Is Dr. Waite with you?"

Geb gestures to her side. Dr. Henry Waite, the biochemist, steps into view. He is a dapper, middle-aged man with a neat Van Dyke beard. Dr. T'Var, who is not within his field of view, sees that, other than some white hair at his temples and in his beard, he is much as she remembered him. He says, "Captain Singh, you are indeed most welcome. I hope your trip went well?"

"It did, thank you. We have the life forms you requested, big and small, as well as all the various supplies."

He grins. "Excellent. I can't tell you how much we've all anticipated your visit. You should have the coordinates for your parking orbit now."

Kylah sees the coordinates arrive in a subspace message from the station, and routes the data to the Helm. Pourtash sees it, and nods to Singh, who says, "Yes, we have it, and will up take our position now. See to it, if you please, Mr. Pourtash."

"Aye, Captain," he says, snapping the switches that put the Federation heavy cruiser into a synchronous orbit just 20 km from the station. "Orbit established."

"We are ready for the transfer of cargo, living and otherwise, whenever you are, Capt. Singh," Geb says, stepping back into view.

"No social call first?" Gral mutters to Kylah. "This lady is all business...."

Henry looks well, T'Var thinks to herself. She remembers that grin -- which always seemed to annoy her for some reason.

T'Var wonders what his life is like now. Is he married? Does he have children? Is he happy?

On the Captain's order, Pourtash brings the ship into the synchronous orbit. He's rather curious about the research station itself.

Despite her strong mental controls, T'Var finds herself experiencing an unexpected mix of emotions upon seeing Waite again. It is... somewhat unsettling.

Pourtash double-checks his readings and sees that the Yorktown could, if undisturbed, remain in orbit here for decades, if not longer. He can scan the station or anything else in near space, if he wishes, from the Helm.

Collins does a cursory scan of the two small crafts to determine their capabilities

They appear to be interplanetary transports, not warp capable, of a level of technology several decades old by Federation standards. Each is virtually identical to the other, with a likely crew of five and passenger capacity of twenty or so. Serviceable but hardly sophisticated.

More out of curiosity than anything else, Collins scans for Zheng Rays.

As T'Var monitors her Life Sciences console, she realizes that it will be good to see Dr. Waite again. Perhaps they can resolve some of the issues left between them while she is here.

Of course, duty comes first. If there is time....

Collins finds no sign of Zheng rays.

Collins mentally shrugs and returns to her standard scanning and monitoring.

The Captain talks with Director Geb and Dr. Waite a little more, then ends the conversation with, "Thank you both for your welcome. You may expect our boarding party, led by Lt. JG Jeremi Collins, shortly. Yorktown out."

"Mr. Collins," she says, "take charge of the boarding party. Beam over when you're ready, and let us know when they're prepared to receive the various lifeforms we've brought. Good luck."

Kylah ensures that the communications channel has been securely closed. In the back of her mind she recalls tales from the Academy of conversations being overheard due to either accidental or purposeful glitches that left the frequencies open after dialogues were allegedly ended, resulting in everything from mere inconvenience and embarrassing lapses in etiquette to outright dangerous revelations about battle strategy.

The cases might well have been apocryphal--professors did love their worst-case-scenario hypotheticals, which inevitably turned into "totally true" horror stories by the time cadets gleefully spread the rumors--but either way, Kylah learned the lesson. She has no intention of being used as a cautionary tale in some future Communications 101 lecture.

"Aye, Sir." Collins taps the comm, "Collins to Lt JG Fujishiro, Ensign Hayes, and Ensign Rangin. Meet the rest of the Boarding Party in Transporter Room 1," She turns to T'Var, Delaney, Pourtash, and Kylah, "Let's hit it." She heads for the lift.

When the whole group arrives in the Transporter room, Collins tells Pourtash to beam over first, with Dr T'var and Lt JG Delaney; she'll follow with the others.

T'Var steps to the Transporter. She takes a deep breath, then lets it out slowly. She is calm and focused -- at least for the moment....

Kylah, who'd be bouncing on her heels with impatience if the habit hadn't been snapped out of her thanks to her tutor's omnipresent ruler, gives Pourtash, Delaney and T'Var a nod of good luck before they transport away as the first party.

Engineering Lt. JG Mark Ferguson is at the transporter controls. He asks that everyone ensure that they have phaser-1s (set on stun), communicators and tricorders, as necessary. "Energize," says Collins, and he beams Pourtash, T'Var and Delaney over to the station without incident.

He says to Kylah, just loud enough for her to hear, "Up you go, then, Princess." When Kylah turns to looks at him from the steps of the transporter platform, he has an unpleasant smile. The others, unaware of what just happened, take their positions.

What does Delaney see?

Collins braces herself for the rush of transport.

Kylah's mind is so preoccupied with excitement for the mission that it takes one step on the transporter pad before the murmured words sink in.

Swivelling around, she catches the look on the transporter operator's face--a human she's never seen before--and finds herself go numb at the sheer hostility in the man's smile and disconcerting gaze, both aimed at her only briefly before he returns his attention to the controls.

Kylah has never before had any fear about this method of transportation, never had the slightest concern about arriving safely at her destination.

Now, as this stranger prepares to beam them over, it takes every ounce of control and discipline and pride she possesses to fight her sudden instinct to flee the transporter pad. Because she has no idea what just happened--or what's about to.

"Ready, Mr. Ferguson," Collins says, and the balance of the boarding party is beamed away before Kylah can say or do anything.

The transporter shimmer effect quickly passes from your eyes and you see you're all standing in a domed circular chamber about six times the width of the Yorktown's Bridge. It is of the same yellowish metal as the exterior of the station, crisscrossed with small conduits and tubes. Everything looks very functional and utilitarian other than a row of seven murals running along one stretch of wall, and a large thick viewport along another. You can see distant stars and the nearby lambent curve of Sakath V through it.

Director Geb is there with Dr. Waite and another Sakathian in a similar uniform to Ged's. The male Sakathian is much larger, though, tall and very well-built. He has a small device in his hand which he waves at the landing party and then whispers in Ged's ear. She nods.

There is also a human woman beside Dr. Waite; she is as small and thin as the Sakathian man is a heavyset giant. She is very pale and wearing a lab coat. A dozen or so other Sakathians come and go from the chamber, tools and instruments in hand; several glance at you but do not approach.

T'Var notices that Dr. Waite appears very surprised to see her.

T'Var smiles at Waite and gives him a slight nod of recognition.

The doctor turns her attention to Collins and will follow her lead.

Exhaling, Kylah shakes off the strange reaction she felt just seconds ago and quickly puts it at the back of her mind. Now she's here and the reality of her very first mission is almost too thrilling to take in. She quickly looks at Director Ged and the other Sakathians, trying to focus on their body language and any of the whispered words she can identify. The tools and devices are fascinating, the way they're clutching them so tightly that they seem to be almost part of their own limbs. Interesting.

Then the murals catch her eye and it's hard to resist staring at them. Though verbal language is her specialty, Kylah knows much can be communicated in pure images as well. She does her best to subtly divide her attention between the Sakathians and the murals in hopes of better understanding their culture.

Collins steps forward to Director Ged. "Lt JG Jeremi Collins, USS Yorktown, at your service." She introduces her team to the denizens of the station.

Before they approach, Director Geb says something to Dr. Waite and the human woman that none of you can quite hear. "Welcome to the station, Lt. JG Collins," she then says. "This is my Chief of Station Security, Ombloun Porr. His scan indicates that you and your party are armed. I thought you knew that we do not permit weapons to be brought onto the station?"

"My apologies, Director" Collins is a little embarrassed that she was not aware of that fact, but it doesn't show in her face. "but they are standard Starfleet equipment when leaving the ship, and they are only set to stun. They will only be used in absolute emergencies. We are here peacefully and in a protective capacity." Internally, Collins is kicking herself for not researching the Sakathians more thoroughly before this morning, but she maintains proper composure.

"I see," says Geb. "Dr. Waite, did you discuss this with Capt. Singh in preparation for the Yorktown's arrival?"

Waite seems embarrassed. "Um... yes, I believe I did."

Geb is stone-faced. She turns back to Collins and says, "You will please beam your weapons back to your ship now."

Collins maintains a stony expression "Excuse me one moment, please" She walks over to a relatively empty and quiet area of the room and takes out her communicator. She flips it open, it beeps, she presses a button. "Collins to Yorktown. Captain Singh, we have an issue here"

Singh immediately replies. "Yes, Mr. Collins. What is it?"

Geb stares at Collins and clears her throat.

Rangin and Fujishiro whisper between themselves briefly.

Kylah, herself somewhat flustered by the turn of events, watches Ged carefully, noticing no real anger in the Director's stance and expression; there's more wariness than hostility, she guesses with some relief, although she's annoyed she's ill equipped to do more than guess.

The massive Security chief is a blank to her; he might as well be a brick wall, which frankly is what he looks like. Finally, glancing back at Waite, she's taken aback by his reddened face--which is in direct opposition to the blanching of his complexion upon seeing Dr. T'Var.

As the awkward silence stretches, she does her best to keep from scowling. If only I knew Sakathian, she thinks irritably. Some local homily might have diffused this absurd situation...

The omnipresence of the Universal Translator has turned xenolinguistics into a nearly extinct specialty, except for those few Starfleet officers consulting with those actually involved in programming the Translator. But it's a skill Kylah adores, and has found it more useful than people realize. Both at official functions back on Elan and even at the Academy, Kylah has often noticed how appreciative other species have been when she's addressed them in their own language directly, rather than relying on the UT.

But she doesn't know Sakathian--not yet, anyway; that's her goal on this mission--and so she remains silent, knowing that her superior officers are supposed to be in charge of dealing with the officials. Of course, Collins is otherwise occupied, and the others are apparently waiting for her to get the official word from the Captain.

She sighs softly. Not wanting to stare at their hosts like a bug-eyed, mute fish in a bowl, Kylah shifts her gaze and focuses entirely on the large murals nearby.

T'Var waits patiently as Collins contacts the captain. She realizes that this situation is a common one. There is usually some sort of tension at the beginning of any mission. T'Var is certain everything will work itself out.

"I was unaware that Director Ged had specified no weapons. I don't recall hearing that in the conversation you had with her from the Bridge. If it is my oversight, I accept responsibility. But now she's asking that we beam our phasers back to the Yorktown. Please advise."

Collins is almost 100% certain that it was not mentioned, nor did the Captain make a point of telling her. She followed Starfleet regulations and armed her team. S.O.P. She maintains her composure talking to the Captain. Collins looks over to her team, everyone is standing expressionless at Parade Rest except Kylah. "This is not a museum trip" she thinks to herself "I may have to talk to her about this. Later. When we're back home."

There is a long pause before Singh replies, "I was not aware of any prohibition against sidearms, either. This is your boarding party, Mr. Collins. Consult with your shipmates, if you wish, but in any event, it is your decision. Do what you think best. Yorktown out."

The silence is deafening except for Collins's murmured words and the slight buzz in response from her communicator, and Kylah, a reluctant guest at many an uncomfortable official occasion hosted by her parents, realizes that if someone doesn't say something soon, the Yorktown crew will seem even more hostile and unfriendly to these obviously wary Sakathians.

Lacking her usual opening gambit of breaking the language barrier, she realizes the object she's staring at might be precisely what she needs.

She shifts her gaze back to Director Ged with a slight deferential nod. "Director Ged," she begins clearly, probably startling her crewmates though they don't seem to budge from their stiff, formal stances. "For this apparent lapse in our knowledge of your customs necessitating this delay, please let us beg forgiveness. I am sure my commanding officer will arrange things to your satisfaction and our mutual safety."

Next Kylah sweeps an arm toward the trio of murals, doing her best to imitate her mother's graceful gestures and curb her own natural abrupt, impatient movements. "In the interim, may I humbly express my admiration for this remarkable collection of murals, and ask of their history and signifigance?"

T'Var glances from Kylah to Collins. Though the young ensign might be a bit presumptuous at this point, her words could also relieve some of the obvious tension.

The doctor knows little of diplomacy. Having served in the V'Shar, she understands security. As a physician, she understands medical issues and their consequences.

She will leave everything in the capable hands of Collins and assist if asked to do so.

"Aye, Captain" As Collins closes her communicator, she hears Ensign Kylah speaking to Ged. Her first instinct was to run over and cover for any protocol errors, but then she heard what Kylah was saying, and relaxed a little.
Collins walks back over to Director Ged. "Again I apologize, Director, but our Captain was unaware of your restrictions. Perhaps we can compromise. Everyone except Lt. JG Pourtash and I will return their arms to the Yorktown. You may place Pourtash's and my phasers in a lockbox, to which only you and your second have access. That way, if they are needed to maintain the security of this station, they are relatively easily retrieved. Is that acceptable?" Collins smiles pleasantly, but not condescendingly. I should have paid more attention in my Diplomacy classes, she chides herself silently.

It's Geb, not Ged. Memory glitch - my mistake. I've fixed my misspellings and will do so for others, if you wish; otherwise, don't worry about it.

Upon hearing Collins's proposal, Geb looks at Porr, who seems to think it over before making a small nod. Geb then says, "That is acceptable. Please do so immediately."

But Fujishiro says, in a studiously neutral tone of voice, "Lieutenant Collins, are you sure that's a good idea?"

Rangin whispers to Kylah, "Are you going to send back your knives, too?"

Before Kylah can reply, Geb says to the Communications officer, "As to the murals which you admired, they show the seven great eras of Sakathian history: the Dawn of Sakath, the Offworlder Invasions, the rise of the First Dynasty, the Second Dynasty and its fall, the Age of Sorrows, the Restoration and the Third Dynasty, and the Heroic Leap to the Stars."

Delaney, looking around with a practiced eye, now sees some indication of past leakage from ducting, and burn marks on the wall above one hard-mounted, modular equipment box. It has all apparently been repaired and cleaned, but he can spot it.

Kylah thanks the Director and praises the artwork's ability to express the planet's history so vividly. Privately, she's somewhat relieved. Geb's willingness to explain the murals with such pride seems to indicate Kylah's instinct to speak up might have been the correct one. And really, she was only telling the truth -- the murals are indeed quite striking.

Rangin's whisper reaches her and she makes a quick calculation. She thinks Collins is making a big mistake; weapons in a lockbox might as well be back on Earth for all the good they'll do in an emergency. But that's Colins's decision, and she's the more experienced officer and in charge of the mission.

Which is all well and good.

But no Elasian goes anywhere without her knives, no matter how innocuous the surroundings. And these surroundings--the tension in the air, that monolithic security chief--don't seem innocuous in the least. She's damn glad Fujishiro spoke up to question Collins, especially considering the pointed remark has drawn any attention from the rest of the crew.

Still, just in case anyone notices, she nods at the Sorrows mural in admiration before answering Rangin. "I see no reason, as they're merely decorative," she murmurs dryly but almost inaudibly, now switching her appreciative gaze to the Rise of the First Dynasty panel. "And unless they're specifically objected to, I'll not part with them. Ever."

Kylah suddenly aims a sidelong glance at Rangin, eyes glittering. "Except swiftly, silently... and blade first."

That Collins and Pourtash don't often see eye to eye when matters of command come up has been well established by now. The helmsman had made a conscious decision that he was going to try to stay as quiet as possible and let her lead without comment, so as to minimize any potential clashes between them. The weapons situation was difficult for him to ignore, however.

Paranoia, perhaps--something he did occasionally suffer from--but simply from a practical standpoint, he was doubtful this was the best solution.

"Sir," Pourtash says to Collins, perhaps with too much of an edge to it. "Are you sure a lockbox that only others have access to is accessible enough in case of an emergency? Retrieval time would render them useless in the vast majority of instances they could be needed."

He's trying not to outright tell her he thinks she's making a mistake, as he knows that won't go over well, but even his most diplomatic efforts with Collins can end in failure.

As Collins removes her phaser from her belt, she hears Pourtash speaking to her. She turns to look at him and sees a mixture of disappointment and anger, mild but nonetheless obvious. She re-holsters her weapon and turns back to Director Geb.
"My apologies, Director, but with all due respect, I have to rescind my offer. Lt JG Pourtash and I will keep our phasers at our side. We are, after all, here to ensure the security of this station. I will be happy to show your Security team how they work, if you like. But my shipmate is correct. In emergencies, timing is crucial."
Collins hopes that this will not get back to Vargas and the Captain before she has a chance to report it in as much as it could negatively affect her next review. Her left hand behind her back, in view of Pourtash, she signals a 'thank you'.

"Now then," she continues speaking to Geb to get away from the topic, "Dr. T'Var will be working with Dr. Waite..." Collins goes on to inform the Sakathians of her team's assignments, ..."and Ensigns Hayes and Kylah will be happy to answer any further questions you may have." She then turns to her team ans says "Okay, you all know what you'll be doing. Dismissed."

Pourtash breathes a silent sigh of relief that she doesn't seem likely to hold the comment against him. He really hadn't liked the thought of crossing her, particularly not when it was clear being in command of the mission meant a great deal to her.

After a relief-filled nod at Collins, Kylah casts approving glances at both Fujishiro and Pourtash, particularly hoping the latter notices -- but realizing his attention is understandably aimed at Collins and the Sakathians.

She's genuinely surprised that Collins changed her mind so quickly. Kylah only wishes she'd done so in reaction to Fujishiro, rather than Pourtash. Does Collins not know how that might appear? Kylah looks closely at Director Geb. A female who's reached such a position of power might not respect another who backs down due to the objections of a subordinate male. Memories of Dohlman Elaan float through her mind. Her cousin would never have tolerated such dissent by an inferior, and would have been disdainful of any woman who did.

But Kylah knows Collins has made the proper decision, and hopes Geb sees the logic of it.

Pourtash catches the look from Kylah out of the corner of his eye and glances back to acknowledge her, giving a small nod, though he doesn't want to stop paying attention to Collins and the negotiations that are still ongoing. She's said she'll keep the phasers, but that doesn't mean that there won't be an argument or some new restriction in place. He sincerely hopes there won't be. He's not sure how Collins might fair with being put in a difficult diplomatic situation, or what experience she might have with them.

He is curious about what interpretation the Elasian and the others might have on the situation, but there will be time enough for the team to speak to one another later.

T'Var observes everything in silence. The doctor was a bit concerned that party members would openly question Collins about her decision, yet she is also pleased that Collins handled it the way a leader should.

Hopefully, all will progress smoothly form this point on. Of course, working with Dr. Waite will indeed prove interesting. T'Var hopes all will progress smoothly with that as well.

Fujishiro does not look pleased to have been apparently ignored by Collins.

Geb is even less pleased by Collins's change of mind. "You made an offer which I accepted, Lieutenant. I thought we had an agreement. Are Starfleet officers not to be trusted to follow through on commitments they have made? In any event, our law remains the same. Offworlders may not carry weapons on this station."

Dr. Waite seems extremely uncomfortable, as if he wants to say something, but can't or won't. The pale woman with him looks impatient.

"'Merely decorative,' eh?" Rangin murmurs to Kylah with a wry smile.

Kylah throws a quick glance at Rangin, who doesn't appear ready to turn her in, and then returns to face the tense tableau surrounding her. Another glance up at the mural--a bloody history, and one that seems to explain the Sakathians' ultra-defensive stance now. Not entirely unlike Elas, in fact. And the pieces suddenly fall in place to form a strategy that might work to allay this seeming stalemate.

"Director Geb," Kylah blurts, stepping forward and feeling about two feet tall before the statusesque Geb and the mammoth-sized Porr. "Forgive me, but Lt. JG Collins seeks only to do what is right and proper, to find some compromise within both your laws and Starfleet's regulations, with the safety of her crew and the success of your research uppermost in her mind."

She swallows nervously. "Though it may be untoward to do so, let me speak personally. I-- I myself have not been part of Starfleet for very long. I am from Elas. You may not know of it, it's such a small planet and so distant from here. But we have a history much like your own. We have precious natural resources that others have sought, and fought for--much to the devastation of our people. Centuries passed with our planet treated like a mere toy to be grabbed at and wrenched at by warring, scheming, duplicitous outlanders." The use of the language is intentional. She might not be able to speak Sakathian yet, but their phrasing can certainly be emulated. "We became defensive and even aggressive in turn, knowing that at any moment our lives could be forfeit due to the greed of such enemies. Even our own private disagreements with another neighbor planet were manipulated for the benefit of these outlanders' sinister plots."

She doesn't dare look at Collins, whose expression she can only guess at. As it is, the waves of anger surrounding her are nearly tangible. Recklessly she continues: "But it was the Federation, through strong but fair Starfleet officers much like Lt. JG Collins here, who ceased this torturous history. They met with us not as aggressors but as equals. As peaceful mediators. Their objectivity and sense of justice pacified our leader's concerns..." Kylah hesitates, then adds with a wryly raised eyebrow, "...And like you, Director, our leader was not an easily fooled or pacified woman. She saw the truth: that the Federation merely wished to facilitate a treaty that would allow our planet's government to remain strong and keep our planet's resources inviolate from predators."

Excepting from the Federation itself, Kylah doesn't add. Instead, she continues in a solemn, deliberate tone. "Director Geb, if my planet, as mistrusting and defensive as it was, had not learned how to trust the Federation, I would not be here. I don't mean merely on this station, but alive, anywhere. We Elasians have all benefited from this association. It is this same Starfleet and the Federation who stand before you now--and I, too, now number among them, thanks to their role in my planet's security. We all of us are ready to assist your labors, ready to protect you if something should go amiss. If you will notice, Director--and Security Chief Porr can confirm this--Lt. JG Collins and Lt. Pourtash's weapons are, and have been since we transported over, locked on a non-lethal setting."

With an open gesture, she sweeps a hand toward the Sakathians before them. "Meanwhile, you and your people all outnumber us and may be armed with deadly weapons. We can do no harm to you. But if you allow my commander and her second-in-command their phasers, they may at least assist you in defending your lives, and your experiments, should anything dangerous occur."

Kylah shifts her attention to the goateed human among the strangers. "I am sure Dr. Waite, who seems trusted by you, will confirm everything I have said. I hope you--all of you," she adds with a slightly hopeful emphasis aimed at the red-haired woman behind her, "will forgive my forwardness, but as a newcomer to the Federation I thought my experience and my planet's history might give you some ease from your wholly understandable concerns."

Her mouth dry, she bows her head a few millimeters in respect and steps back in line with Rangin.

Ensign Kylah has the potential to become a fine Starfleet officer and leader T'Var muses to herself. Despite her impetuous nature.

The doctor smiles slightly. She is most interested in how Collins will handle this new development. T'Var does not believe it is her place to step in, but will do so if asked by the mission leader.

Collins, though outwardly unmoved, is very impressed with Ensign Kylah's speech and makes a mental note to recommend her for commendation, assuming of course, that the Sakathians see the wisdom behind her words. Jeremi remains stalwart. "Thank you, Ensign, that was quite eloquent. Director Geb, I am not embarrassed to admit that I made the offer prematurely. My shipmates are fine officers, all above reproach. Surely you will not hold my hasty offer against them. If it pleases you, you may assign one of your security team to be at my side the entire time." Jeremi makes another mental note to study up on diplomatic tactics during her next down time.
Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Fujishiro's expression. It is only then that she realizes the lieutenant had spoken up before Pourtash, but Collins hadn't heard her, as she was staying focused on the Director. I will apologize to her as soon as this meeting breaks Jeremi tells herself.

Geb says, "I appreciate all that has been said, but despite what I may wish to do under the circumstances, the law still stands. Beam your weapons back, all of them, or I must ask you to leave."

"Director...." Waite begins to say, but she curtly holds up a hand and the researcher says no more.

Kylah remains silent but her own anger is rising--she can only imagine how Collins feels. Too bad my tears won't work on a woman, she thinks while glaring at Geb. Never tried that trick before, but were Geb a male I'd certainly make an exception now!

Though she tries to keep her face neutral, as the older officers seem able to do, she knows her skills at dissembling have their limits. Rather than have her expression reveal her ire, she quickly aims her gaze at her feet. This way she'll look ashamed rather than furious.

But her mind rages on. Their own ships are too small and weak to handle the cargo, yet they dare make their rules govern those who would help them? We should dump the cell lines and animal containers in front of this--this inflexible ingrate masquerading as a leader--and force these fools deal with the creatures themselves.

A wicked thought occurs to her. And before we leave, we could loosen the animals' enclosures. Let's see how well they fare with twenty Denebian slime devils without our help! She nearly smirks at the mental image.

T'Var walks over to Collins and whispers in her ear.

"Perhaps we should leave -- for now. If our help is truly needed and desired, a logical compromise will be forthcoming, I am sure."

"Excuse me one moment, Director." Collins turns towards T'Var and whispers back "I think this is more a game of poker than an ultimatum. Kylah has the gift of gab and I have Starfleet regs on my side. Leaving is a last resort and we are not there yet." She turns to her crew and addresses everyone but Pourtash. "You all go ahead and beam your phasers back to the Yorktown. Lt Pourtash and I will work with Director Geb until all parties are satissfied." Collins watches and waits as her crew does as instructed. Then She turns back to Geb. "Director, I would like to continue this discussion with you. I am certain there a solution we will both find amenable. Perhaps you have a conference room where we may have some privacy, just you and I?"

Pourtash calls the Yorktown and, after everyone but Collins and he have put their phaser-1s in a pile, the weapons are beamed back to the ship.

Geb says to Collins, "All right, Lieutenant. If you wish. Come this way, please." She turns to go, and Collins follows her to a conference room just down the hall. It is windowless, plain, and furnished with a table and six chairs that have seen better days. The door whisks shut behind you.

The rest of the Starfleet boarding party stands there, facing the hulking Porr and the two researchers. Porr looks from Pourtash to Kylah several times, but says nothing. Dr. Waite finally clears his throat and says, indicating the woman next to him, "Um, I'd like to introduce you all to Dr. Asenath Pierce. She's deputy director of our research team, and the finest endocrinologist you'll ever hope to meet."

"Pleased to meet you all," she says with a nod. "Welcome aboard."

T'Var knows nothing about the game of poker, so the reference does not help her understand the situation any better. She makes a mental note to have Collins explain what she meant later. If this poker is anything like Kriegspiel, we may be in more trouble than I first thought, the doctor muses to herself.

T'Var returns Pierce's nod with a smile. "Thank you," she says in an even tone. "I am Dr. T'Var, Assistant Chief Medical Officer of the USS Yorktown. T'Var glances at Dr. Waite. "Greetings, Henry. I hope you are well."

Collins looks around and walks to the sturdiest looking chair. She waits for Geb to sit as well.
"I appreciate you agreeing to speak privately with me. Please help me understand your law against weapons on this station. If we take it item by item, perhaps we can find a solution."
Jeremi is aware this is going to take some finessing, but her ultimate goal is twofold - one, to respect the integrity of the Sakathian station and two, to appear confident to her crewmates - more confident than she actually feels.

Waite says, "Uh, yes, thank you, T'Var. Dr. T'Var. I... I'm surprised to see you. How are you?" He is clearly ill at ease. Dr. Pierce looks at him bemusedly.

Geb sits down, folds her hands and says to Collins, "This is a facility of the Sakathian government. Offworlders are not permitted to carry weapons of any kind here. It's an old law, and a serious one. I may even be disciplined for allowing you and the other officer to remain armed as long as you have been already." She glances at the door.

"Allow me to contact my Captain. Perhaps she can appeal to the head of your government for an exception for Starfleet." She may be imagining it, but she senses Geb understands what Collins has been saying all along about Starfleet being there for assistance and security only. Perhaps Kylah did get through to her.
Deep inside, a piece of Collins is smacking the Sakatian security guards around and hollaring "We're in charge, now! Shut up and sit down". Must be that old Quentin Tarrentino film she'd watched, alone, earlier this week.
Yeah. Alone. What is up with Ben, anyway? What's his issue? Collins feels herself starting to get angry, so she almost inperceptably readjusts her posture to a professional one as she reaches for her communicator and places it on the table in front of her. She leaves her hand near it.

"I am well, thank you," T'Var answers. Dr. Pierce's expression does not escape T'Var's notice.

With no role to play while Collins is off hopefully convincing the intractable Geb of their sincerity, Kylah can only occupy herself by examining and analyzing her surroundings. Her specialty being language, she's a bit at a loss--words seem to be a rare commodity in this room--so that only leaves body language and other intangibles. Which, admittedly, are usually enough for her. But the Sakathians seem naturally resistant to such analysis. Not impossible, but they're hardly open books, either.

Speaking of books that are wide open for reading purposes, it's impossible for Kylah to miss the odd dynamic among T'Var, Dr. Waite, and the silent, enigmatic Dr. Pierce. Particularly Dr. Waite; he seems so uncomfortable that he might be wiling to leap onto the transporter pad and flee the room even if the coordinates land him in a black hole. And yet the two women on either side of him are as cool as he is jittery, despite the fact that T'Var had herself seemed discomfited before they arrived here. She calls him Henry. Familiar. Yet he prefers to emphasize her title--distancing himself. Perhaps that's why T'Var's response was so curt.

Meanwhile Chief Porr is making Kylah's skin tingle with wariness thanks to those pointed glances split between her and Pourtash. Does he know about her knives? No, surely he'd have mentioned them; a security chief wouldn't remain silent if he thought her a genuine threat.

The silence is absurd. Kylah feels her irritation rising again. Perhaps Starfleet officers are not taught the art of small talk, and Sakathians are obviously paranoid boors, so no help from that quarter either. Kylah never considered herself a prize diplomat--quite the opposite--but in this group someone must rise to the occasion. She just never dreamed it would be her.

But what on earth can she say? Especially with her throat still dry from her lengthy speech. Oh, for some Elasian spice tea right now! Or anything, really. Can these cretinous Sakathians not even offer us the hospitality they'd owe to mere visitors to their station? And we are here to help them! Unconscionable, not even an offer of a chair or a glass of--

Ah. Yes. And there's another bit of inspiration.

"Chief Porr," Kylah says in an imitation of her mother's tone--three-quarters silk, one quarter steel. "As we must wait to perform the assistance we intended to provide for your people, I wonder if I might seek a favor? As I mentioned, I am not human, but Elasian, and you may not realize that my people are ill-equipped, biologically, for transporter travel. The technology inevitably leaves us fairly dehydrated--I am almost weak with thirst." Of course this muscle-bound man of stone won't realize how ill-equipped Elasians are for transporter travel; it's an utter lie anyway. But seeing her as vulnerable even in some small way might ease his defensive posture just a bit.

She rests a hand on her throat, massaging it slightly, and aims her innocent dark gaze hopefully at Porr. "Is there any way you might have something to ease my discomfort? Water, ideally, but I admit I would be curious to try a refreshment unique to Sakath. Indeed, I'm sure I speak for all of us..." She glances at the other crew members nearby, willing them to nod pleasantly at the staff--especially Rangin, he seems clever enough to back her up--then returns to Porr, concentrating fully on reading his reaction to her words.

T'Var does her best not to grin. Kylah could easily win an acting award of some kind. The doctor is quite impressed with how the young ensign has handled herself so far.

"I, too, would very much appreciate some refreshment," T'Var adds. "We would be most grateful."

Kylah casts a grateful look at T'Var, only a second lapsing before her doelike expression is again bestowed upon Porr.

She's only just realized that, to use the human idiom, there's a pair of flies in the ointment: the doctors. They might, just might, be aware of Elasian physiology.

Still, if they're anything like the scientists on Elas, or those she met during her required xenobiology courses at the Academy, they're masters in their pet fields of study but ignorant in all else. With only one Elasian in Starfleet, and the rest remaining largely on Elas and Troyius--save for a single Ambassador in San Francisco, Kylah feels safe in her deception. Besides, her people's reputation is well known to her; they're considered proud warriors, erratic of temperament and emotion. It would be simplicity itself to explain that this hypothetical vulnerability to transporter technology is a secret that other Elasians have never deigned to mention to off-worlders.

And there's another angle, she admits with another surreptitious look at Dr. Waite. If her suspicions are right about him, he might not be of a mind to gainsay her fully reasonable request--not now that T'Var has expressed her gentle agreement.

Geb looks almost startled at Collins's suggestion. "This is not a law that can just be... ignored as it suits you, Lieutenant. And I am not in any position to ask the King or one of his ministers to intervene. Perhaps you had better return to your ship."

Porr's eyes narrow a little, and he gruffly says to Kylah and T'Var, "Soon they will return. You may ask the Director then."

Collins mind suddenly flashes back to the sim she and her shipmates recently endured. What am I missing here? If we return to the ship, the mission is a failure and I have a black mark on my record. If Pourtash and I relinquish our phasers, we are all defenseless. The Federation and the Sakathian government arranged this - surely the topic of armed personell would have been discussed. Jeremi feels her anger rising again, but she decides to take a different tack.
"Director Geb," she says calmly but sternly "*I* am not in a position to go against Starfleet regulations. So, Captain Singh will contact your Prime Minister and settle this. Meanwhile, the rest of my crew will do the jobs they came to perform, while Lt Pourtash and I remain in plain sight, at all times, of your security force."
Before Geb has a chance to object, Collins flips open her communicator, calls the ship, and tells Singh was has transpired so far. Each time the Director tries to interrupt, Collins raises her left hand, palm forward, to stop her. The Captain will know how to fix this - I will just do my job.

T'Var says nothing -- for now. If it were up to her, she would return to the ship and let the Sakathians stew in their own juices. If they want the Federation's assistance, they certainly have a strange way of showing it.

The doctor glances briefly at Dr. Waite. She wonders how Henry could ever involve himself with them. He always seemed to be such a reasonable man. Then again.... T'Var sighs.

Kylah's hands ball into fists but she keeps them behind her back, unseen. Never before has she been so tempted to play the role of royal brat--or to use her tears to enslave this thug. But she's never tried the latter tactic, and isn't certain she'd be able to work up the emotions necessary. As for the former... well, that would be her siblings' and mother's way. And her Guardian's, as well. But not hers.

Besides, she doubts behaving in such an imperious manner would hold any sway here, if appealing to a host's pride did nothing. She knows there's a royal family somewhere, but with no ties to Elas, why would Sakath's rulers care how they treat the Elasian royal family's lowest-placed member? If she claimed to be heir to the Dohlmanship herself, that might work, but such a lie would be far too easily found out.

And I am in Starfleet now, Kylah admits reluctantly. I must play by their rules. It is up to Collins and the Captain to deal with their leaders, not me. If the Captain chooses to ask Kylah to assist in this manner, using her extremely minor royal role, she'll do so. But not until then.

At least, not unless a greater emergency befalls them than simply not being allowed to help play kennel-masters for a group of scientists.

Collins will not let them take her weapon, or Pourtash's either. A stalemate means we'll return to the ship. None of this makes sense. Why on earth didn't the Captain know of this ridiculous rule? Waite claimed to have told her, but everything about his manner says otherwise. A liar, then, Kylah thinks in disgust. And a craven coward as well, if he has not admitted the truth to Geb.

She turns to T'Var without bothering to address Porr further; he deserves no politeness as he has proffered none. Gesturing with her head, she moves away from the Sakathian goon and the two researchers, wanting to speak to T'Var in private.

"Doctor," she says in a low voice. "As someone who obviously has a past relationship with this human male--" She suddenly realizes the tactlessness of her blunt words and quickly continues, "--a relationship as--as a fellow doctor and former colleague, I mean--can you not try to speak with him privately? These researchers sought our help, that is why we were assigned to this mission. Do you not think that you might--you might find out why they are not making more of an effort to accommodate us?"

T'Var listens intently to Kylah as she speaks, then thinks a moment before answering.

"Patience, Ensign," she says softly. "I am sure the captain and Mr. Collins will find a way through this impass." The doctor glances again at Henry Waite. He does seem quite uncomfortable.

"However, your suggestion does have merit. Perhaps, if and when the opportunity presents itself...."

Geb listens stonily as Collins explains the situation to Capt. Singh via communicator. The Yorktown's commanding officer then asks, "May I have a word with Mr. Collins privately, please, Director?" The Sakathian leaves the room without a word. Singh says, "What do you want to do, Mr. Collins? My practice is almost always to defer to personnel on the scene. Geb doesn't sound especially flexible to me, and I'm reluctant to have you all unarmed over there."

Porr watches Kylah and T'Var as they speak.

"Patience is one of your people's virtues, Doctor," Kylah murmurs dryly, backing away from T'Var so her face can't be seen by the others. "Mine are not blessed with it."

She turns, ignoring Porr's stolid form, to look down the direction in which Collins and Geb departed, almost glaring in an effort to force her mission's leader's return.

Finally she exhales in exasperation and flings a glance at Pourtash. "At what point do you contact Mr. Collins to ensure her safety? ...Sir," she adds, a trifle belatedly.

"Captain, my gut is telling me this is some sort of test. Perhaps to the Sakathians, it's a sign of weakness to pack it in. I wish we knew more about them." Collins takes a breath. "We stay, and Pourtash and I keep our phasers. The others will do the jobs they've been assigned, and we will show the Sakathians that we are strong but peaceful."
Damn, I hope that's the right choice.
"I'd be interested to learn more about Dr. Waite and why he is here. He does not seem at ease. Almost as if he is a captive." Collins pauses. "I will have Fujishiro and Kylah talk with him, alone if that's at all possible. Collins out."
She closes her communicator and puts it away before exiting the room. She looks around at everyone. Kylah seems on the verge of crying, good - maybe it'll help. Collins walks over to Pourtash and says loudly enough for the rest of the crew to hear "You and I will remain armed. Everyone else, please begin you assignments."
She walks over to Director Geb and holds out her empty right hand. "I promise, our stay here will be without incident. We are only here at the request of your Government, and we will help your teams in any way we can."
Collins walks over to a spot in the room that gives her a good view of everything, then motions to Pourtash to take up a similar position at the other side. She stands at parade rest.

Kylah is relieved to see Collins returning, with her phaser still in her possession. The news that apparently the Director hasn't agreed to this does come as a surprise--So Collins is willing to break their laws? Kylah thinks approvingly--and though she's pleased that Starfleet isn't backing down, she's not sure how well this will bode for relations with these uptight, ungrateful Sakathians.

It doesn't help that her own brief for this mission is nebulous at best, basically boiling down to "learn all you can about these people and their culture," which is as useful an instruction as a razor to an Orion male. Kylah scowls at Porr and Geb. There's more culture in one of T'Var's Petri dishes than in any one of these brutes, pretty murals notwithstanding.

But duty is duty, and she won't shirk it just because she's disgruntled. Since the only meaningful exchange she's had so far has related to this aforementioned mural, Kylah decides to play nice again. As long as it's not aimed at Porr, she can deal with it.

She walks over to the mural and prepares her tricorder, hoping to get an image scan. Over her shoulder, she looks at Director Geb. "May I take a recording of this, Director? I promise our scanner will do no harm whatsoever to the mural. It's just that this is such a striking creation, bearing both artistic merit and historical import. I would be honored to know more about each individual panel's meaning." She glances back at the mural. "In particular this," she says, eyeing the fifth panel. "The Age of Sorrows. To what does it refer?"

As Kylah waits for word from the most likely still annoyed Geb, she's surprised to see Collins leaving her position and moving to Kylah's side. Is she going to take me to task for this? Kylah worries, feeling jumpy as a cat for no reason.

Instead, Collins leans over to her and issues some murmured orders--but by the time Kylah really hears them, her C.O. is marching off. The request was straightforward: "See what you can get out of Waite." Though she didn't add the words, Collins's unspoken And be sure to get him alone, away from the others addendum was crystal clear in the meaningful stare aimed at Kylah before she headed off.

Though Collins is halfway across the room by now, Kylah nods, looking back at the mural with a pleased flush on her face. "Yes, sir," she says softly to herself. Already trusted with some intelligence-gathering! Now this is what she was hoping for on her first mission. And it confirms that Collins shares her suspicions about Waite's behavior, so it's nice to know that she and Collins are in sync in this regard as well.

Not wanting to alert Geb to the new orders, she remains where she is, noticing out of her peripheral vision that Collins is now walking over to Fujishiro. Possibly the same order, possibly not. Actually, Kylah would be quite happy to work with Fujishiro--the other woman showed good sense regarding the removal of their weapons, and she's interested to see how they might act as a team.

T'Var walks over to Waite and Pierce. "I look forward to working with the two of you," she says. "I am sure our research will prove beneficial to all parties concerned."

"Thank you, Dr. T'Var," Pierce says warmly. "The feeling is mutual."

Waite nods and smiles, seeming almost bashful as he meets T'Var's eye.

The rest of the Starfleet boarding party has been patiently waiting at parade rest. Director Geb says to Kylah, "Yes, you may record the murals," and is just about to say more when Collins returns. The Sakathian official hears Collins out, but doesn't shake her hand afterwards. Instead Geb says coldly, "You have obviously misunderstood me, Mr. Collins. Under our law, you may not remain on this station armed. As our discussion has reached an impasse, I now order you to return to your ship." She says a few words to Porr in Sakathian which you do not catch, and he speaks quietly into what appears to be a small, cylindrical communicator.

T'Var observes Collins and Geb with interest.

She says to Waite and Pierce, "It seems as if we are at an impasse. Could either of you provide a suggestion as to how this situation can be rectified?"

Waite looks miserable. Pierce glances at Geb and says carefully, "This is a Sakathian station. We are here only by their leave, and with their permission. I think you had best comply with the Director's... request."

Kylah wants to pull her hair out in frustration at the Director's intractibilty. Though pulling the Director's hair out would be more pleasurable. She gnaws at her lip for a moment and, decision made. strides forward.

"Director, please do not do anything that will harm and hinder your scientists' efforts," she blurts. "Can there not be a compromise?" Kylah turns to Collins and gives her a pleading look, willing her to agree to what she's about to suggest even as she continues speaking to Geb. "Cannot our commanding officers remain here, with their holstered weapons in full sight of your--your security chief," she says with a forced polite tone, "while the rest of us continue to perform our assistance mission as requested by your government?"

She again darts a look back at Collins. "This way, at least Lt. JG Collins and Pourtash are in communicator-range of their crew, and can be of immediate service in the unlikely event of some--some sort of emergency. Where they'd assist your own security team, which I'm sure is very able."

The last words nearly stuck in her throat but she's glad she got them out. Kylah catches Rangin's attention by casually placing her hands down at her sides--where her knives are inches away, as they always are: one strapped to her thigh beneath her standard Starfleet skirt, the other to her left calf beneath her boot. Hoping he got her silent message, she concludes. "And should this be acceptable to both you and my superior officers, Director, I will volunteer to accompany Dr. T'var during her work with you and your researchers. I would be so grateful to learn as much as I can about your world. That is one of Starfleet's highest priorities--to forge understanding between civilizations."

Even as she concludes, she knows she broke proper procedure; she should have spoken to Collins about this proposal first. But she also knows that if she'd made an attempt to speak to Collins in private, Geb--and certainly the ever-suspicious Porr--would likely have suspected some sort of skullduggery. No, speaking up in this seemingly forthright fashion wa the wiser choice, she's certain of that. Well, almost certain.

And if Geb and Collins agree, Rangin can explain later exactly why I might be of use in ensuring T'Var and the others are protected. Collins will understand.

I hope.

I'm not yet convinced this isn't some sort of test. Collins watches Kylah in disbelief. Isn't that what I just told frackin' Geb? Suddenly, inspiration strikes her.
"Director Geb, as I've said, we are here at the request of your Government," as she speaks, Collins walks over to where her shipmates are standing, "However, we do not wish to cause an incident, so I offer this. Drs Waite and Pierce accompany us back to the Yorktown and conduct their studies in our science labs. You and anyone you wish to bring are also welcome, of course."
Before Geb can answer, Collins opens her communicator, and while looking at her crew says "Collins to Yorktown. 6 to beam up and please stand by"

Delaney finding the entire situation a bit surreal, stands by for beam up.

T'Var is unsure what will happen next. There seems to be no logical way to predict the outcome. Perhaps, if the two scientists are permitted to leave, they might feel more at ease and willing to provide some much-needed information regarding the Sakathians and their behavior.

Kylah braces for transporting, her face red as she refuses to look at Collins. Geb might have agreed to let you two remain behind by the lab entrance, you foolish human. Neither of you are fit for leadership. Geb because she's unable to bend, and you because you wobble back and forth like a reed in a windstorm!

So thus ends Kylah's initial mission, never even begun. To have one's very first mission end in failure seems an utter embarrassment, and she dreads having to report back to her Guardian.

Though it does little to ease her pride, at least this doesn't appear to have been a vital mission. Who are these Sakathians anyway? Elas may be small, but we possess materials the Federation and Klingon empire found worth fighting for. Sakath is nothing to no one, and their people are hardheaded imbeciles as well. Even after those invaders they find so threatening were gone, they still couldn't fix their own problems--else why did they have an 'Age of Sorrows' later on?

The thought makes her take one last glance at the mural. What was the 'Age of Sorrows'? Kylah was genuinely interested in finding that out before Geb was interrupted.

Chin held high and jaw clamped shut, Kylah waits to return to the ship.

Geb says evenly, "Drs. Waite and Pierce are free to go if they wish, of course. We will await your return."

The two human researchers glance at each other. Waite shrugs and says, "Yes, perhaps a visit to your ship would be best. I'd like to discuss a few things with Capt. Singh." The two of them step closer for beamout.

In moments, you lose yourselves to the usual wash of energy and odd sense of disassociation, and then find yourself back on the Yorktown's transporter platform. The Chief Engineer himself is now behind the console, and says, "The Captain would like to meet with you all in her conference room immediately."

As the group heads to the lift, Collins catches up with Fujishiro. "I'd like to apologize. I know you spoke up before Mr Pourtash did, and it appeared as though I ignored. Not the case. I was focused on trying to appease Geb, and didn't actually realize you'd said anything until later."

Kylah lags behind, falling into place just behind Rangin as they all troop to their destination. She has literally no idea what to expect from this meeting, try though she might to anticipate the Captain's likely reaction.

T'Var walks beside Kylah. "You handled yourself well, Ensign," she says.

The doctor is not sure how to deal with Waite and Pierce. She is sure they know a great deal about the situation with the Sakathians. Will they be willing to share this knowledge?

T'Var's words bring a little flutter of pleasure to Kylah, and she nods in gratitude at the kind compliment. "Thank you, doctor. I know missions are not always successful, but this being my first one... I cannot help but feel a measure of failure. I feel perhaps... perhaps I went beyond what was called for, not just by my low rank and experience, but my exceedingly minor role as delineated in my brief. Frankly I had little use there, and maybe I tried too hard to be of more assistance, all to no avail." Especially considering the mistakes made by my superior officers, she declines to add. "When in truth, my skills were neither needed nor used."

For a moment she hesitates, remembering something. "Although I did notice that the Universal Translator did not always translate Sakathian adequately, such as when the Director and Porr were speaking privately. My facility with decoding and xenolinguistics might have helped bridge the gap... eventually. And then there was that mural..."

Kylah sighs, then belatedly relizes she's babbling with a woman who is usualy very quiet, and probably prefers silence as well. Nevertheless, Kylah's curiosity about T'Var's past with Waite remains. "Your own disappointment must be far greater. I hope you will be able to assist Drs. White and Pierce once this is cleared up--if it is cleared up," she adds with more pragmatism.

Capt. Singh welcomes you all back to her conference room. She greets Dr. Waite in person, and he introduces her to Dr. Pierce. "Please be seated," the Captain says, as mess stewards offer everyone coffee, tea or other beverages. "Mr. Collins, I'd like your report, and others are free to share their thoughts, as well. Then I'd like to hear from our visitors."

"Yes, Captain." Collins gives a professional recounting of the events of the day, refraining from editorializing for now. But, man, do I have opinions on Geb and the Sakathians.
When she finishes relaying the facts, Collins adds "Ensign Kylah may have been over enthusiastic, but I'd like to believe she made a positive impact." Jeremi pauses briefly. "Permission to speak freely, Sir?"

T'Var sips her Vulcan spice tea thoughtfully. She will wait until others have spoken before sharing anything herself.

She is also curious as to what the two scientists have to say. T'Var is hopeful their words will shed some light on things.

Kylah takes careful measure of every person's expression and gesture, hoping to get a good sense of what people might be thinking. She focuses on the captain, Waite and Pierce.

Otherwise she takes her lead from T'Var and remains silent and purposefully stoic while waiting the captain's response, though Collins's phrasing of the compliment did make Kylah's eyebrow raise slightly.

She does hope Rangin says nothing about her refusal to give up her weapons. Singh knows nothing about them, as far as Kylah knows, and overall Kylah prefers that state of affairs.

"Permission granted, Mr. Collins," the Captain says. "You should all speak freely."

"Sir," Collins says, "I don't understand how this miscommunication could have gotten so out of hand. Surely when the Sakathians requested our presence, they specified 'no weapons'. If they did not, how did they expected us to know? And to assume we'd just go along. I admit I almost did, and but for Pourtash and Fujishiro, I might have. Director Geb was not willing to compromise, or even allow higher ups to be consulted." Jeremi realizes she is now talking faster than normal, and her pitch and volume are rising. She stops, regains her composure, and continues. "I find it unreasonable that they invited us, and then made it impossible for us to stay."

"I was not informed that weapons were not permitted," Singh says coolly, looking at Dr. Waite. "Had I known, I would obviously have told you, Mr. Collins."

"I thought I told you, Captain," the researcher replies. "I'm almost sure of it. It was known and acknowledged by previous ships which have supplied us. It might've been one of those details that just fell through the cracks. If I didn't tell you, you have my apologies."

There is an awkward pause, and Ens. Hayes says, "Director Geb apparently did not feel she had the authority to strike any kind of compromise. She was definitely inflexible."

The Captain looks around the room and wryly says, "Sometimes I think you're the most bashful group of officers I've ever seen. Any other reports, thoughts, observations...?"

Kylah has waited for the others to speak, but since they seem reticent, she might as well say what's on her mind.

"Captain, I greatly appreciate Mr. Collins's compliment. I did try to establish a rapport with Director Geb and learn more about the Sakathian culture. There appears to be more to their troubled history than invasions from outsiders. According to a historical tapestry, there was--not long prior to their reaching outward to the stars--an era called the Age of Sorrows, which occured a significant amount of time after the 'offworlders' invasion about which the Director seemed so concerned. I'd hoped to learn more about that, and I do believe the Director was about to tell me, but once Mr. Collins announced her intention that she and Mr. Pourtash would stay with us all, armed, Director Geb grew defensive and was no longer of a mind to respond. She and particularly her security chief were actually defensive and wary the entire time we were there, though at certain points in my attempts at communicating our benign intent, Director Geb seemed to soften somewhat."

She takes a deep breath. "For example, I proposed an alternative plan, whereby we--Fujishiro, Rangin, Delaney and I--would go off and attend to our duties, with myself attending the doctors and researchers, while Mr. Collins and Mr. Pourtash remained behind guarded by the Sakathians' security team -- but armed, and with their communicators ready to receive any warnings from those of us deeper within the station. Again, I thought Director Geb might listen to me, but we transported back before I had a chance to hear the Director's response. I would have very much liked to hear it. After all," she adds dryly, "a 'no' can sometimes be as informative as a 'yes'--depending on the tone and vocabulary."

Swallowing, she looks across at the Captain. "I may have overstepped my boundaries, Captain, but my attempts to show respect to their history and protocols might have been rewarded if we'd stayed a little bit longer. I understand I am greatly outranked by my superior officers, and this is only my first mission, but if I may be honest, I think we left too soon. Success might have been forthcoming. I do have a--" How shall I put this? "--a certain instinct for persuading others by identifying their weaknesses. It was much remarked upon in my Academy record, as you may know."

Finally she can no longer avoid addressing what her human Academy roommate used to call 'the elephant in the room'. She turns to Waite, aiming her dark gaze at him like a dart. "And that same instinct tells me that Dr. Waite knew quite well that he did not tell you of the weapons ban. Though it is not my place to question him regarding why he omitted this key factor and put not just the mission in jeopardy but the relationship between the Federation and the Sakathians, I would respectfully recommend you do so, Captain."

There. It's out. Kylah exhales but does not relax in her chair, remaining rigid and straight-backed. The Captain wanted candor, and so she received it.

T'Var clears her throat. "I do not believe Dr. Waite would cause a disruption to our mission with the Sakathians."

The doctor stares intently at Henry Waite -- a stare that used to get the truth out of him whenever T'Var felt it necessary. "Unless, of course, he had a very good reason to do so."

"Whatever the reason," Collins adds, "the Doctors will have all the help from us that they desire, now that they've come aboard." Something is still nagging at her, like that stupid panel button, but she can't identify it. "Captain, would it be against protocol for you to talk directly with the Sakathian Prime Minister to straighten this out, maybe get us special dispensation? I'd really like to go back to the Station, but not unarmed."

Waite glares at Kylah and says, somewhat angrily, "As I've already said, I thought I'd told you about the Sakathian law on weapons. I would never do anything to jeopardize Starfleet operations here, and I resent the suggestion that I would. We need the animals and supplies you've brought. Why would I try to delay their delivery?"

"I'm sure Mr. Kylah meant no offense, sir," Singh says. "Do you think it would do any good for me to try to contact the Sakathian government, to get some kind of dispensation or waiver?"

"I really doubt it, Captain. They tend to be sticklers for the rules, in my experience."

"Especially where offworlders are concerned," Dr. Pierce says. "Waiving the weapons rule would only aggravate their latent xenophobia. Geb's people would be asking, 'Why are these Starfleet people so insistent on being armed?'"

"I see," says the Captain, clearly frustrated. She looks around. "Any other thoughts, gentlemen?"

Refusing to apologize or take back her words, Kylah simply turns to her commanding officer. "Have we really much choice, Captain? Since these Sakathians are so inflexible, it would seem we either accept their demands and place Starfleet officers at the Sakathians' disposal--and at our own risk; drop the cargo off and leave without offering assistance; or give them nothing." Kylah knows which option she'd recommend, but keeps her tongue still on that suggestion.

Then she scowls, a sudden possibility flashing into her mind. She shifts her gaze to the others, waiting for them to speak, before continuing.

"But a thought occurs to me," she says slowly. "What if, instead of beaming aboard from the ship, we travel to the station by shuttlecraft? Once we dock, the boarding party could leave our phasers behind, while a few fully armed 'technicians' would remain on the shuttle, weapons at the ready?

"In this way, our security officers would be nearby and ready to assist if necessary... while we'd remain in technical accordance with their laws by not bringing our phasers onto the station." She lifts a corner of her lips in an approximation of a wry smile. "Is such a thing possible?"

"It is quite obvious that we will be faced with a real challenge while working with the Sakathians considering their rigid lack of flexibility in this matter," T'Var says. "Perhaps it would be best if we drop off our cargo and leave -- for now. If the Sakathians change their minds and require our assistance in future, we could try this again."

"I agree", offered Collins, who is doing her best not to run screaming from the room in frustration, "Drop the cargo and go. Ensign Kylah's idea seems workable on the face of it, but as we'd be docked at the station, the Sakathians would want to know why we are leaving "technicians" on the shuttle. They may also insist that they be allowed to search the shuttle, and that would defeat the purpose."

"The Federation's treaty with the Sakathians obligates Starfleet to provide personnel to oversee the transfer of research materials such as animals," Dr. Pierce says, "and to remain on-site for 'a reasonable period.' You can't just 'drop the cargo and go,' and frankly, we wouldn't want you to."

"The research station doesn't even have a shuttlebay," Dr. Waite adds. "There's no means to dock one of your shuttlecraft."

Kylah stares at Waite in disbelief. What kind of space station lacks a docking bay? And a research station, at that? Are there not some materials too hazardous to transport? She shifts her gaze down to her lap, where her hands are now clenched in impotent fists. Incredible. Not only are the Sakathians paranoid ingrates, they're incompetants at design as well! She expects there's no point in suggesting a shuttle flying in geosynchronous orbit around the station; somehow that idea will prove impossible as well. Besides, Kylah knows she's already said far more than a neophyte ensign should on her first mission.

It seems clear that the captain is being manipulated into the only two options remaining: refuse the mission, or leave her crew on the station unarmed. Kylah's nails dig into her palms as she again looks up at Captain Singh. It is, after all, her decision.

T'Var frowns. "With all due respect, Dr. Pierce, it seems quite clear that the Sakathians have no interest in the Federation's treaty or our assistance in this matter."

The doctor's frown deepens. "We have a right to protect ourselves, after all. There must be a way to find common ground here."

Pourtash sighs as he listens. The more that Dr. Pierce and Dr. Waite say, the more manipulated he feels. He reminds himself that not everything that appears to be manipulation necessarily is. The Sakathians could simply be an inflexible, paranoid species without any ill intent. That didn't exactly make the situation much better, though. He kept searching his mind for missions he had read about in which Starfleet was forbidden from remaining armed and what resolutions had worked in those encounters.

"Is there any flexibility in the treaty whatsoever for us?" Pourtash asks. "No provisions for us to do anything but show up, remain until they are satisfied, and be unarmed the entire time?" He pauses, frowning a bit as he knots his brows together in concern. "What recommendations did previous teams make after bringing supplies? This is an unusual enough situation, I'd be very surprised if no one considered how to prepare for next time." He glanced toward Collins, but since she had been as blindsided as the others, he supposed she didn't know.

And they'd had no chance to prepare for this specific situation, because of the oversight in their briefing. Never assume malevolence where simple incompetence will do, Pourtash reminded himself. But this was still a hell of an oversight.

"If there are no provisions in the treaty for us to ensure our own safety, we may very well be required to remain on the research station for 'a reasonable period' sans weapons. It's dangerous and I greatly dislike it, but it may be a risk we have to take for the sake of the treaty." Though he seriously had to wonder if any of this was worth it.

Collins hears the tone of Pourtash's voice and adds "How important, really, is the Sakath System to the Federation? Would they really be an asset? Or do we only want them because some of our enemies have expressed interest?"

"I agree with you, Mr. Pourtash," the Captain says. "I've read the treaty, and it is as Dr. Pierce has described it. Given the nature of the animals being transferred, especially the Denebian slime-devils in this case, I suppose it's understandable the Sakathians would insist on those provisions." To Collins she says, "Our orders are to complete this mission. It's really not up to us to determine the worthiness of the Sakathians as research partners, potential allies or even future members of the Federation, except as that may affect the completion of our mission. But yes, despite this bump in the road, I agree with Starfleet Command that they would be an asset."

Ens. Hayes says thoughtfully, "I reviewed the logs of the previous Starfleet missions here, and the no-weapons law wasn't mentioned. I don't know if that was because everyone knew it, understood it and considered it unworthy of mention, or if it's a recent development."

"The last Starfleet ship was here, what was it, six years ago?" Singh asks, quietly drumming her fingers on the Theban marble tabletop.

"Yes, ma'am. The Potemkin brought an earlier Sorbonne research team here, and then returned them to Starbase 17 after just a month or so. Dr. Waite's team was brought here by chartered ship."

"It is understandable that the Sakathians want us to remain after the transfer, but what good could we possibly do against Denebian slime-devils if they escape and we don't have weapons ready?" Pourtash points out, knotting his brows together again. "Even phasers can be deflected by the armor on their heads, but it's better than nothing. It's foolhardy to expect us to be in any way helpful under those circumstances."

He considers what Ens. Hayes has offered, still not happy with their options.

Even obvious information should be in a mission log and he'd expect better of Starfleet than that, which makes him think it may be a more recent development than Waite has implied.

"Is it possible we could arrange it so that weapons are ready to be beamed to us in the event phasers are needed? Maybe maintaining an open channel at all times with someone? Would the Sakathians accept the absence of phasers on their research station, but the potential of gaining access to them in an emergency? They seemed amenable to us keeping phasers locked away on the station itself."

It was a hopelessly convoluted solution, but it seemed to Pourtash everything straightforward or sensible had been barred from them.

"Did the Sorbonne research team encounter a situation similar to our own -- or are we the first?" T'Var asks, a note of irritation in her voice.

Collins feels helpless, but she daren't let it show. She keeps her poker face and focuses her not-quite-so-obviously-angry-glare on Dr Waite.

Capt. Singh nods slowly and says, "Keeping an open channel and being ready to beam phasers to you, if needed, might be the least bad option, under the circumstances. What do the rest of you think?"

Ens. Hayes apologetically says to Dr. T'Var, "The Sorbonne team wasn't armed, as far as I know. There's nothing in the records about that."

Dr. Waite notices Collins's expression, and looks back at her, raising an eyebrow.

"Dr Waite," Collins chooses her words carefully, "On the station you seemed ... constrained, restricted in your ability to fully express yourself. Is there something going on that the Sakathians do not want the Federation to know?" Collins suddenly wishes for a tribble which she would throw at Dr Pierce.

"A possible option, to be sure, Captain," T'Var says. "Though what might happen in the time -- however brief -- it takes to beam phasers to us...."

The doctor sighs. She watches Henry Waite closely as Collins asks her questions. If anyone can get some answers out of him, it would be Collins.

"Yes, that is still a problem," Pourtash says, nodding to T'Var, "I don't like it either, but if they won't budge and we're obligated to assist, our options are limited."

He glances towards Kylah curiously. She seems to be quite intelligent and with a knack for diplomacy, even if the Sakathians weren't swayed by her. He wonders if she might have a better suggestion.

Waite answers Collins; he seems almost surprised by her question. "No, I wasn't constrained or anything like that, except by not wanting to offend our hosts. The Sakathians can be sticklers for the rules, as you've seen, and of course there's their latent xenophobia, but they've basically been welcoming to us. I can't think of anything that the Sakathians don't want the Federation to know." He turns to Pierce. "Can you?"

She frowns and shakes her head.

Fujishiro whispered briefly to Rangin as Waite spoke.

"Yet you seemed...almost afraid of Geb" Collins pursues the issue.

"No," Waite says. "Not afraid. Just a little wary of causing offense, I guess. It's important to our work that we have the goodwill of Geb and the Sakathian government."

"Would it be acceptable to perform the bulk of this research on our ship -- keeping the Sakathians completely updated and informed? We could involve them as much as possible, of course."

T'Var thinks a moment, then continues.... "Perhaps we should seek Dr. Noel's counsel regarding the Sakathians and their behavior. Her insights might prove quite useful."

"No, we have to do it over at the station," Dr. Pierce says, shaking her head. "That's where all of our equipment is; that's where we're set up to do it. We've been preparing for weeks. Doing anything here is out of the question."

"I don't know what Dr. Noel would have to add to the discussion," Lt. JG Fujishiro says after a pause. She looks skeptical.

Kylah feels almost itchy with anticipation, surprised the meeting has lasted this long. It seems strange for her to have any say in the matter, the newest member of the ship and certainly the least experienced person on this mission. But it appears that while everyone is waiting for Captain Singh to make the decision, Singh herself is leaving it to the crew. The dynamic seems odd and foreign to her.

But so be it. If Singh wishes to hear from everyone before she sends them, seemingly weaponless, over to the lab, then she shall.

"Though I know it is not my decision," she says carefully, "and I do believe there is a danger in going through with the Sakathians' wishes, it appears there is no option if we are to fulfill this mission as Starfleet commands us. If the Sakathians assure us that communications between the party and the ship will remain open and they will raise no shields that might impede our beaming back to the ship or weapons to be beamed down to us--then I agree we should leave behind our phasers."

She does not look at Rangin as she speaks and continues hurriedly. "And if i may make a further suggestion, Captain... I recommend haste. To such a paranoid and defensive people--something I know a little about," she adds with a hint of self-deprecation, "--the longer we delay, the more it will look as if we are strategizing against them."

Kylah hesitates slightly. "And finally, if it is at all possible, I would recommend that someone at the highest possible level of Starfleet Command or the Federation itself get in contact with the Sakathian government and explain the cause of this confusion." She flicks a dark glance at Waite before returning to face Singh. "The Sakathians believe we defied their laws willfully. I feel very strongly they need to be reassured on this matter from someone in as high a position as is feasibly possible, to show regret for the misunderstanding and willingness to adhere to their planet and Sovereign's laws.

"Forgive my forwardness in making such a suggestion, sir," she says with a slight bow of her head to the captain, "but I understand how... sensitive... royals can be if their commands are not afforded the respect they believe they deserve."

"Okay then," Collins states with the authority afforded her, "are everyone's hand to hand skills up to date?" She watches those at the table, save Waite and Pierce, nod in affirmation "We go without phasers, we stay only as long as needed and not one moment more. Captain, permission to take my team back to the station?" Collins stands as she speaks

T'Var sighs a bit louder than she probably should at this turn of events. The unwillingness of the Sakathians to bend at all is most disturbing to her sense of balance and fairness.

As a former member of the V'Shar -- and a Vulcan -- T'Var is well versed in many forms of unarmed combat. If necessary, she can and will use these skills.

The doctor sighs again.

Singh says, "I'll contact the Sakathian government, although I'm not confident it will do any good. In the meantime, Mr. Collins, return with your boarding party to the space station. We'll maintain a lock on each of your communicators, and we'll have phasers ready to be beamed over on a moment's notice. It's the least bad option under the circumstances, given our orders from Starfleet."

You all return to the Transporter Room, Drs. Waite and Pierce in tow, and are beamed back to the station.

Geb is there alone to greet you. She says, "The Captain has advised me of her decision. I am glad you are willing to obey our laws. Dr. Waite, please show Lt. Collins and her people where the animals will go."

Kylah is relieved that this time the strangely hostile transporter engineer wasn't around to give her any last-second words of 'advice'. Now on the station again, she feels it especially important to be on good terms with Director Geb--especially since she's made her mistrust of Dr. Waite known. The man is either mendacious or a doddering fool. She's not sure which is more dangerous.

As Dr. Waite prepares the others, Kylah lingers and greets Geb with a respectful nod. "I too am glad our differences have been resolved, Director. I truly would value the opportunity to learn more about your people. Indeed, I'd be especially honored to learn a bit of your language. From our earlier visit I noticed that the Universal Translator was unable to work on all of your speech; I worry that the same might be true for our own." Kylah tilts her head in a show of regret. "I am no scientist, and will be of little practical use during the experiments themselves. As my role on this mission is actually to facilitate our communications, I feel it would be a shame if the Translator's inevitable failure to interpret unique idioms were to cause any misunderstandings. And as a student of languages I must say that what I did hear of your language, raw and untranslated, fascinated me. Its phonetics, the use of pitch and volume... it sounded so lovely and expressive. Though of course, I could not yet understand it. Much like your mural, I can appreciate the beauty but not divine its true meaning."

"Thank you, Director." Collins supervises the delivery, all the while keeping a wary eye on every non-Starfleet person in the room.

Geb seems to relax slightly at Kylah's words. "I'd be glad to teach you more of our language, Ens. Kylah. I warn you, though, I'm no linguist. Sakathian has some subtleties and slang that might seem challenging at first, but you may find it worth the effort."

She walks along with you as Drs. Waite and Pierce guide the Starfleet boarding party out of the reception area. Dozens of Sakathian people come and go, almost all carrying tools, bags or boxes; many of them glance or even stare at you. You see that the station is long and thin, built around a great central corridor, about ten meters wide, with compartments of all kinds - labs, living quarters, dining areas, recreational spaces, offices, shops, storage areas, and so on - opening off of it. "There are also several dozen domes of various sizes attached to the spine of the station, most of which are modular, and configured for scientific research," Waite says. "A few minutes' walk will bring you to the botany, medical, cryogenic, biology, chemistry, subspace, astrophysics, astronomy and quantum mechanics domes, but there are others farther along."

He leads you first to the biology dome, five times as big as the Yorktown's Shuttlebay. What would you like to see to ensure that they are ready for the Terran capybaras, Bolian storks and Denebian slime devils that await beam-over from the starship?

T'Var looks about her slowly. From this quick scan of the biology dome, she is impressed with its configuration.

"Perhaps an explanation of what we will be doing here might be in order," she says to Dr. Waite.

Collins visually surveys the biology dome, making special note of all the access and egress points.

Dr. Waite says to Dr. T'Var, "Well, I want to show you where the animals will be going. We wanted examples of non-Sakathian mammals, avians and reptiles for our experiments here. We're grateful to you for bringing them."

He leads you all to a doorway marked with two slanted violet stripes. "Level 1 areas, such as the main hallway, are open to anyone on the station. Level 2 areas are secured for various reasons, and are ordinarily closed to offworlders. In the Sakathian culture, violet is a symbolic color of warning. The two stripes show this is a Level 2 area. I've confirmed that you have Director Geb's permission to enter this area." She nods, and he smiles. He puts his hand over a thin wall-mounted box beside the doorway, and the doors whisper open.

The capybara habitat is open and has a stout, waist-high fence, with a spongy artificial surface and several pools. The stork area is just a few steps away and is similar, but includes a metal mesh enclosure about 15 meters high, allowing the birds room to fly. Several metal, multi-limbed "trees" have been constructed to give the birds a place to perch. Automatic food dispensers are set up in each area. Other than the door you entered, there are three doorways.

Rangin opens his tricorder and begins scanning.

After a few moments, Waite leads you to another door and says, "Level 3 areas are for more hazardous, restricted or classified work. This next area will also be open to you, though." He again waves his hand over a box, and the door, marked with three violet stripes, opens.

You see that each Denebian slime devil will have its own enclosure, about five by five meters, made of what appears to be metal topped with very thick glass or plasteel. Each includes a flat rock sticking a few centimeters out of thick mud. A single small food dispenser is attached to each enclosure. "As you can see," Dr. Pierce says, "we've done our best to make a comfortable but secure place for each of the experimental animals." The lighting is dim, which Dr. T'Var knows is ecologically appropriate for the vicious alien creatures. Collins sees just one other door in this compartment.

A small transporter console and platform is against the back wall of the room. Delaney doesn't recognize its design.

"Dr Waite," Collins suddenly has a bad feeling, "What sort of experiments will you be conducting? The fauna we've brought are living beings. What are you hoping to learn here?"

"We're studying the reaction of living tissue to subspace fields of different types," Dr. Waite says. "We've already taken a look at quite a few Sakathian species, and now we'll be testing those three larger offworld lifeforms, and the cell lines which I understand Dr. T'Var has gathered. This is research for research's sake - we don't have any particular goals. With luck, though, in the coming months, we'll... ah, here are the others!"

He introduces the Yorktown crewmates to the leading scientists of the Miskatonic University research team who have just walked in. They include Dr. Daniel Olmstead, an elderly neurochemist, stooped and with a quiet, dignified manner; Prof. Robert Upton, a cellular biologist, young and friendly; Dr. Melinda Dyer, a physician, pretty, with a ready laugh; Dr. William Akeley, a radiologist, middle-aged and somewhat nervous in demeanor; Prof. Albert Holt, a subspace field expert, a little older than Dr. Akeley, but charming and upbeat; and Prof. Claudette Wilmarth, a xenobiologist, young, raven-haired and with an intense gaze that Pourtash finds somewhat unnerving. Dr. Pierce explains that the rest of the 15-strong MU group are research assistants and lab techs working elsewhere at the moment.

T'Var frowns. "I find that research without a specific goal in mind does not produce meaningful results." The doctor's frown deepens.

" 'With luck in the coming months' what?" Collins asks "Please finish that thought, Doctor."

Waite continues, "I was just going to say, with luck, we'll have compiled a large database of results that might have some scientific, medical or commercial application that we can't foresee. And Dr. T'Var, as you know, some of the greatest scientific breakthroughs have been unexpected, and in the course of research into other things: penicillin, cordrazine, the discovery of X-rays, and so on."

Something else is nagging at Collins. "Dr Waite, I'm sure you're aware of the late 20th Century Earth protests against animal testing?" Collins pauses to gauge his reaction "What are the potential dangers to the life forms?"

Dr. Pierce frowns. "We obey Federation law as to the ethical treatment of nonsentient lifeforms in scientific experimentation, of course, including the 2205 Copenhagen Protocol."

"Absolutely," Prof. Wilmarth says. "Any danger to them is minimal."

"Of course, you are quite correct, Dr. Waite," T'Var says. She continues to frown. "However, a reliance on luck and the unexpected can be a foolhardy endeavor."

"Okay," Collins relaxed a little, "Thank you." Collins resumes her visual sweep of the lab.

Waite says to T'Var with a shrug, "We don't rely on luck, but we don't discourage it, either. And the unexpected is common in all great research. So. Shall we proceed with beaming over the animals?"

Collins sees nothing else of note, nor does Delaney, other than that these compartments seem to be cleaner and in better repair than the public areas of the station you've already seen. Rangin, who has been taking tricorder readings all along, has not said anything.

Kylah is doggedly interested in pursuing the history of Sakath as shown in the mural, particularly this unknown era that Geb called "The Age of Sorrows." Nothing of this sort was described in the briefing prior to the mission--only the offworld attacks that seemed to predate this era somewhat significantly.

However, the imminent decision regarding the animal transportation is too important and she doesn't want to distract anyone just because she has a strange sense that a miasma of secrecy is occluding .... something. Perhaps something relevant to the mission itself.

The sudden arrival of the Miskatonic University researchers makes her feel somewhat claustrophobic even in the large space. And Kylah has not missed Pourtash's attention swiftly shifting to the unknown xenobiologist.

Ignoring this reaction--except for a raised eyebrow--she walks over to Rangin and asks softly, "I presume all readings are normal?"

Collins opens her communicator, looks around the room, and satisfied that everything is as good as it's going get, calls the ship, "Collins to Yorktown. Begin cargo transport."

If T'Var had feelings, she would have a few bad ones about this mission. She sighs, awaiting transport of the animals.

Rangin quietly says to Kylah, "Everything looks OK to me, although their maintenance seems a little, well, slipshod." Delaney, overhearing this, remembers what he noticed when he first beamed aboard.

Chief Engineer Cheverez answers Collins from the Yorktown's Transporter Room. "Acknowledged. Please provide coordinates for the destinations of the storks first. I'll send them one at a time, to be sure everything goes smoothly. Then we'll proceed to the capybaras, and the slime devils last."

Collins transmits the coordinates and waits for the telltale shimmers to start.

As Collins remains on an open channel to the ship, the storks beam into the enclosure, one by one. They seem a little disoriented at first, but soon are squawking, flapping their wings, rooting around and flying about. The scientists look pleased.

"Collins to Cheverez. The storks arrived. Please continue with the rest of the cargo." Collins has to duck a bit to get out of the way of one of the storks, but otherwise, maintains her composure.

T'Var is a bit disturbed by the noisy storks. She is not an animal lover. Cell lines are quiet and easy to control -- when they're not dying, of course.

The doctor sighs. She is determined to figure out why certain cells have died while others flouish. Perhaps the scientists here might have some ideas?

Collins passes along the coordinates of the capybara enclosure, and within a few minutes all twenty of them have been beamed over and are contentedly snuffling around.

Kylah is startled when the storks arrive and doesn't--can't--immediately respond to Rangin's comments. The hysterical flapping and squawking unnerve her, as if the birds' anxiety is infectious. The discomfiture of animals always bothers her; such confusion and helplessness seem terribly unfair to force on creatures who can't comprehend what's going on. She forces herself to turn back to Rangin, an edge in her voice: "If the maintenance is slipshod, are the animals' confinements really safe?"

The storks are bad enough, but the imminent arrival of the slime devils is what really worries her.

The Bolian storks settle down after a few minutes, and the noise level under the dome drops considerably.

Rangin looks up from his tricorder and glances towards Delaney. "Well, I'm no engineer, but I think it'll be all right."

T'Var ponders the fate of the cell lines she has so carefully nurtured thus far. How will transport effect them -- if at all? Where will this cell research lead? What -- if anything -- will be learned?

Pondering these questions keeps T'Var's mind off the disruptive animals as they are transported to the station.

As you all watch, ready for any trouble, the slime devils are beamed from the Yorktown, one by one, into their individual enclosures. Most shriek and clack their claws together menacingly for several minutes before settling down; some even hurl themselves against the walls, but the enclosures hold them without breaking. The MU team is fascinated by the sleek reptilian predators.

When the transportation is complete, Dr. Waite whispers something to Dr. Pierce, who nods and says loudly to the Starfleet boarding party, "If you'd all come with me, please, I'll show you to your quarters aboard."

But Dr. Waite quietly says to T'Var, "I hope we might have a private word together."

With a nod from Lt. JG Collins, she agrees, and he leads the Vulcan physician to a private office adjoining the dome. In addition to his diplomas she sees, hanging on one wall, the framed and calligraphed Latin phrase Primum Nil Nocere, which she remembers was a gift from his sister years before - the ancient dictum of human medical practice, "First, do no harm." She can also see Sakath V and the stars through a large viewport.

They both settle into chairs. After an awkward pause, Waite says, "It's been a long time, T'Var. As you could probably tell, I was very surprised to see you when you beamed over."

"I hope my presence is not upsetting to you, Henry," T'Var says evenly.

"No, not upsetting, just... unexpected." He seems nervous. "How are you doing these days?"

"I am well," T'Var replies. "I find my service with Starfleet quite gratifying."

He takes a deep breath. "All these years... I've been meaning to apologize, T'Var, for what I did to you. To us. I was an idiot, and I hurt you, and I'll always regret that. I should've said 'I'm sorry' long ago."

T'Var ponders Henry's words a moment. "The fault was mine," she says. "I made an error in judgment regarding our relationship." She sighs. "No apology is necessary."

He looks up at her. "You're being much too easy on me. We were engaged. I threw it all away like an idiot."

"Vulcans tend to overlook the failings of humans - and idiots," T'Var says with a wry smile.

He returns the smile a bit ruefully, then reaches out and takes her hand. "And I fit both categories. Do you ever wonder what our life together could have been like? I have... and I do."

"That would not be logical," she says, removing her hand from Henry's grasp. "Not logical at all."

Waite's face falls, and he nods. "I understand. Well... thanks for talking to me privately. I do hope we'll be able to work together as professionals, regardless of what happened before."

T'Var places her hand on Waite's shoulder. "I do look forward to working with you again, Henry." She gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "I truly do."

"Thank you. That's far more than I deserve."

T'Var's dialogue by WES; Waite's by Elendil's Heir.

Rangin's comment finally registers with Collins "What do you mean you 'think it'll be alright'?"

T'Var is relieved to have spoken with Henry -- clear the air. He seems more mature now. Perhaps, in time, they can find a path to friendship.

Rangin says, "Well, I don't have any particular expertise in manufacturing or construction, but I've seen plenty of animal-containment units in my career, and these look all right to me."

Dr. Waite leads the Starfleet physician from his office, back to rejoin the others, and asks, "When would you like to beam over those cell lines, T'Var? I know Prof. Upton and Prof. Wilmarth are eager to begin."

Dr. Pierce shows the other members of the Yorktown boarding party to their quarters. Each of you have been assigned a single plain but comfortably-furnished room with a private bathroom. You see that the MU scientists and support staff have similar rooms along the same T-layout corridor. A Sakathian guard stands at the bottom end of the "T," which opens onto the main central hallway of the station.

"The sooner the better, Henry," T'Var replies. "I an eager to begin as well and look forward to working with everyone on this project."

Collins looks around her quarters. She sits at the desk and calls the Yorktown. "Collins to Captain Singh. The transfer went smoothly and everyone is ready to start the research." She continues her report with the mundane details of what has transpired so far, including mentioning the T'Var and Dr Waite seemed to have worked through whatever tension their was earlier.
When she's done, Collins flops on the bed, hands behind her head, and knees up. She stares at the ceiling. That little thing she's been ignoring pops its head into her mind.
Alright, she thinks, let's approach this sensibly. Whatever you had with Ben is apparently done. His loss. So, pros and cons. It would be nice to have a child someday, perhaps after I've made Captain and had my own command for a few years. But now is not at all practical. So, that's it then. I'll make my appointment when this mission is over. Jeremi sighs and closes her eyes for a bit.

Profs. Upton, Wilmarth and Dr. Waite show Dr. T'Var to the Cellular Biology lab, a few doors down from the station's main dining hall. She calls the Yorktown, and within the hour the Andorian, Tellarite, Rigellian and Altairian invertebrate cell lines - of worms, molluscs and beetles, 243 in all - have been beamed over and properly stowed. The professors like what they see.

Singh thanks Collins for her report and orders her to keep in touch.

The rest of the boarding party gets settled into their rooms. By now it is late afternoon, station time. Dr. Waite invites you all to a welcome-aboard dinner party in two hours.

T'Var is pleased with her quarters. It is good to finally get everything moving forward at a steady pace.

The doctor prepares for the dinner party.

Collins awakes with a start, checks the station's chronometer, and lets out a sigh of relief. She pulls herself together, straightens her uniform, brushes her hair, and heads off to dinner.