Star Trek RPG - Mission #3: "Some Other Side of Paradise"

"That should be fine, I may be longer. I could go and check in with Lt Delaney, or Lt. Cmdr. Ebling or even Dr. Halsey, but frankly the only thing I've missed seeing here is the old colony itself. I'd prefer to see it in good weather instead of being in the middle of a rainstorm." Rangin replies.

"I can dead run it in less than 5 minutes, so I shouldn't be that long, and besides I can go over the hill this time. See you back in twenty, twenty-five or so. Good luck with Fastolfe. If you need me, just call."

Dr. T'Var says, "Allow me to get a cup of redleaf tea, please, and I'll be right back."

The grass is still a bit wet and Omicron Ceti is steadily setting - perhaps only about 20 minutes of daylight remain - but Rangin is able to reach the old Sandoval Colony on foot without difficulty.

A little embarrassed, Collins turns to Graham "It's okay, right? If T'Var joins us? I mean I haven't got any other secrets to spill, so I thought it'd be a good change of topic. You two can tell me about the mission."

Kylah agrees with Velir and then watches him leave, enjoying the relative peaceful atmosphere created by the waning light, the scent of the damp grass, and Velir himself, walking toward the colony--this time without fear of danger, she hopes--to satisfy his keen curiosity.

Her automatic smile dwindles as she heads toward Fastolfe's familiar blue house. It seems months since she was last here; so much has happened since. Reaching the door, she presses the chime and hopes she will find someone home.

Graham shrugs expressively. "Of course, the more the merrier, right?"

He briefly wonders whether or not Kylah did in fact follow through with her idea to go back down to the planet to apologize to Fastolfe. He frowns slightly, then returns to his steak--albeit a little guiltily for not confirming either way. Probably not, he thinks. We were all given the green light to go off duty. And there's still a whole Security team down there, anyway.

As Rangin tops the hill and looks down towards the old colony buildings, he wonders how different they will look in the gloaming. Catching his eye is the thin wisp of smoke rising from somewhere within the colony and as he gets closer he can see a few people milling around and the gently smoking remains of one of the buildings.

One of the historic buildings marking where the first surviving colonists managed to live on what had been consider a deadly planet and it was gone, up in smoke, and Rangin didn't know whether to laugh or cry. It must have been destroyed when Graham and his troop had tried to apprehend Hardin, and was so indicative of everything that had happened since they had got here.

Rangin shook his head and turned away back to the hill. He may be back sooner than expected, but he just didn't feel like looking any closer. In fact, the sooner he was gone from this planet the better.

Half way up the hill, Rangin turns back for one last look and sits on the hillside looking down again at the buildings and sighs. You just couldn't take Ens. Graham anywhere, could you. Uncontrollably, Rangin begins to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Whereas Kylah and he had merely stunned the person they were firing at, Graham and his team had to burn down a house. It was no laughing matter, but that just made it all the harder to stop.

After a few minutes, Rangin lies back in the twilight breathing hard, wiping a few tears from his eyes and feeling better for it. When checking his chronometer shows a few minutes left before he is to meet Kylah, Rangin picks himself up off the slightly damp hill and brushes himself off, before turning and beginning the walk back to the resort and Kylah.

Kylah. At least, there was one good thing that had come out of the mission.

Dr. T'Var returns with a steaming mug of tea, and sits down. "I am pleased to see you looking so well, Mr. Collins," she says. "I hope you are feeling better, too...?"

A very large Pacific Islander-looking man whom Kylah has not seen before opens the door of Lord Fastolfe's guest house. "May I help you?" he rumbles.

Rangin's walk back to the resort is uneventful.

Blinking, Kylah hesitates only for a second. "I beg your pardon," she says to the stranger. "I am Ensign Kylah, from the Starfleet ship Yorktown. I am looking for Lord Fastolfe--is he still staying in this residence?"

Collins smiles. "I'm not quite at 100% yet, but I'm close. Getting back to work is helping." Jeremi hopes she is giving no sign of her inner turmoil.

"He is," the large man in the doorway says.

Dr. T'Var sips her tea and smiles a little. "I am glad to hear it. And you are well, Mr. Graham? I understand Mr. Palver confessed and you captured him."

"That is good to hear," Kylah says, somewhat slowly. "Could you please ask him if he will see me? I have some news that I believe he will be glad to hear, and also... I also wish to speak to him personally. If it helps, tell him I am alone. Most of my colleagues have left the planet." After a hesitation, she adds: "And if he wishes his attorney to be present, of course I understand."

The man says, "One moment, please," and closes the door. Kylah notices dusk is falling fast. After a few minutes the man returns. "This way, please," he says, and leads Kylah into the same first-floor sitting room she'd been in before. Lord Fastolfe, in a dark suit, is standing near Miss Adjetey, who is seated with a datapad in her lap. The rock star nods at Kylah and gestures towards another chair.

Trying to hide her awkwardness, Kylah gives a return nod to both and, before seating herself, greets them. "Good evening, Lord Fastolfe; Miss Adjetey. Thank you very much for agreeing to see me." She sits, runs her hand over her thighs to smooth her skirt, and takes a deep inward preparatory breath. "I do not know if you have heard, but I wanted to let you know. We have finished our investigation into Mr. Wilson's murder, and have made arrests. The culprit has confessed, as well--unasked. He was holding us hostage at the time, so there was no coercion..."

She realizes she is saying too much and shakes her head, tucking her hair behind her ears nervously. "An official Starfleet Investigative team is on its way here and will be finishing things up. The resort will also get a new director." And assistant director, and possibly a new head of security as well, but of course Kylah does not add this information. "And the Yorktown will be leaving shortly. Most of us are already back on board, except for a few guarding a few alleged accomplices. No doubt you will be glad to see the back of us after everything..."

She lifts a hand, fluttering it weakly at the darkening sky outside the window as if trying to gesture toward the Yorktown. "Anyway, I thought you deserved to hear the news. I do not think you will be bothered again. Perhaps there will be some need for follow-up witness accounts regarding the stolen knives--I still do not know or fully understand the point of stealing so many, but sadly I do not think I will ever have the answer to that. You might be able to learn what was done to rid you of the spore effects--" On an impulse, she adds, "You might be able to obtain some damages from the assailant. A civil suit might be warranted, and frankly the culprit is not lacking for funds... Of course, I am not an expert on such things and whatever you do is up to your best legal advice," she says with a glance at Miss Adjetey. "As I said, I do not know the whole story yet. But...

"But I do know that at the very least you are owed an apology," Kylah says in a rush of an exhale, returning her solemn gaze to Fastolfe. "I feared our ship would leave without anyone on our crew speaking to you again. That is why I came straight here, right from sick bay, because I--I do not believe in shirking responsibility. You were treated like a suspect--no, like someone who was presumed to be guilty--and I do not think that was right. It certainly warrants an appropriate apology. I tried to treat you fairly, but when I did not, it was wrong and I am very sorry for it." She looks down for a second, embarrassed. "I wish to say more, partly about what--what transpired between us--although I would prefer to do so in private. But I suppose you will prefer that Miss Adjetey remain?"

Fastolfe looks at Adjetey and something unspoken seems to pass between them. Despite her fatigue and hunger, Kylah has a sudden strong impression of the longstanding friendship and confidence between the two. Fastolfe coolly says to Kylah, "Thank you, Ensign, for coming here, and for your apology, which I accept. If you have anything else to say, I would prefer Miss Adjetey to remain. You may speak in complete candor in her presence."

Kylah's heart sinks and she keeps her eyes focused somewhere near Fastolfe's shoulder. "Yes. Well. It... it is about how you--how you were when we were alone. The romantic advance you made," she blurts finally, feeling her cheeks predictably turn aflame at having to discuss this in front of Adjetey. But she came here for this reason and she will not back down now.

"You misunderstood my intent in coming here, assuming that I--that I wanted what you did. And then I reacted harshly and defensively, more so than your attempts to seduce me deserved." She again brushes her hair away from her burning face.

"I tried to explain this almost immediately afterward, but you were not in a frame of mind to listen. The truth is, I only threatened you because I had just experienced an--unwanted encounter. The night of the murder. When it happened I was not in a position to defend myself. I could do nothing, and I did nothing, and..." Kylah shakes her head, not really at anyone. "Your behavior brought all that back, and this time I reacted as I wish I had with the other man. Except this was not the same event. There was no need to attack you. And I want you to understand that, I want you to know I am sorry, because..."

To her horror she realizes her throat is tightening painfully and her eyes have begun to blur. Quickly she stands up, wringing her hands behind her back. But she is steadfast and forces herself to continue. She half-laughs / half-chokes, and wipes her eyes angrily. "I am sure this seems absurd to you. I am less than nothing in your life. You meet thousands of women and seduce them or are rejected by others, and all of this must seem a tempest in a teapot to you.

"Nevertheless, I refuse to behave the way I have seen others act. Many of my crew insulted and attempted to demean you; they believed they were right and thus will not apologize. Just as the man who did not pay attention to my wishes took advantage of me; he thought I was 'enjoying it' and thus he did not apologize, even when I told him otherwise.

"But one should acknowledge when one has behaved badly. Apologies matter. Expressing grief at having wronged someone, even if you did not intend to... Ideally one should fix what you did wrong, but sometimes that is not possible. All that is left are our words to redress things. Or the person you wronged will never feel closure."

Though miserable, Kylah stands as straight as possible and finally, finally manages to look Fastolfe in the eyes. "So for accusing you of attempting to assault me, and especially for threatening you with my knife--a callous thing to do given how Mr. Wilson was murdered... I apologize for these as well. This time, I am not apologizing on behalf of my crew and me. The responsibility is mine, and mine alone. And I hope you know I am sincere, or I would never have said such things in front of Miss Adjetey if I had any choice in the matter." Biting her lip, she shakes her head again. "That is all. I wish you well. Both of you."

She hesitates and, remembering that Fastolfe is human, holds out her trembling hand for him to shake, if he chooses.

"Uh, yeah, well, it was pretty weird," Graham replies. "But it worked out. The three of us--Ragin, Kylah, and me--were being held, helpless, by Palver while he stroked his ego telling us how smart he is." He shakes his head. "Only something Rangin--something that the two of them feared was related to the Sakathian mission--caused some kind of biological reaction--or, ah, something--that shook Palver's mental control loose."

"Dr. Villa seemed to think Rangin was OK. And I'd bet Palver has a trail of people he's at the least manipulated and I'd bet money killed a kilometer long behind him." Graham shrugs. "At least everybody arrested was clearly guilty of something. Hell, even the victim was kind of scumbag." He chuckles slightly. "Makes you feel good about coming to work in the morning, right?"

Fastolfe seems rather taken aback by Kylah's long statement, but then firmly shakes her hand and says, "Again, my thanks, Ens. Kylah. Be well in all your voyages to the stars." Miss Adjetey says nothing. The large man who let Kylah in ushers her back out again, and she emerges from the guest house into near-darkness.

Dr. T'Var nods. "I found over the years, Mr. Graham, that the universe contains very few total innocents, and very few absolute monsters."

"That mind control thing," Collins chimes in, "I didn't know Palver's kind had that ability. The only time I've heard of that level of control, there was a computer or a remote device involved."

Kylah feels shaky and emotionally numb as she stands near the house, looking down at the ground. She does not know what she expected, but Lord Fastolfe acted nothing like himself--he is practically a different person than he has been throughout the rest of this mission.

At least she did her best to express her feelings. If Fastolfe did not care, it makes no difference; Kylah said what she had to. What she needed to.

And of all the people to whom she might have revealed her secret, Lord Fastolfe is probably the safest--albeit the least-likely. She will never see him again, and he will not waste another thought on her, much less tell anyone else. In a way it is a relief to have said the words and know they might as well have been whispered into a void.

And yet... at the same time, it is also chilling. Giving them voice makes what happened even more real.

With a sigh she shifts her gaze upwards and notices how dark it is, considering it was twilight only moments ago. She feels cold and alone. But she will go and find Velir; she will not be alone then.

The sun has set as Rangin walks briskly back into the small area where he left Kylah and can see her outline across the far side of the green. Feeling relieved that she is here, he makes his way across to her.

"How did it go? Did you manage to do what you needed to?" he enquires politely.

Dr. T'Var says, "It is rare but not unheard-of throughout known space; I believe he may be unique among Rhaandarites. Then again, he is the only Rhaandarite tycoon of whom I have ever heard, either."

Kylah is briefly startled when she first hears the soft tramp of footsteps, then notices someone's dark shape coming up to her a few yards away. But before two heartbeats have passed, she senses a warm, stable presence and knows it is not a stranger. Velir's voice, when he speaks, is not even necessary to confirm his identity.

She moves to him and, extending her arm, curls her fingers around his, very different from the tremulous way she reached out to Fastolfe. "I think so," she says, drawing closer. "As much as I could expect. He accepted my apology, at any rate. He is much changed from the man we saw three days ago, or even early this morning. But this place has affected many of us, for better or worse."

She is not thinking only of herself. The grim shadows of Wilson and his family, of Mr. Hsu--perhaps even Mrs. Hsu, depending on how much truth was in Palver's latest version of his exploits--haunt her. And Collins suffered too, although not, she hopes, as a result of her being down on the planet. Not that the why of such a loss will matter much, Kylah suspects sadly. Then again, it might; the forlorn question of why stopped occurring to Kylah's mother only after her fourth miscarriage.

Kylah's hand tightens reflexively around Velir's, and in addition to the physical warmth, his concern and compassion for her radiate even more strongly through their touch. Yes, despite all the tragedy, pain and fear that have been part of this mission, something good did transpire.

Now, walking with him toward the main area of the resort, she pauses when they are halfway between the lights that illuminate various sections of the landscape, and thus not very visible. With a swell of courage she would not possess if they were on the ship or in the light of day, Kylah turns and impulsively leans her body into Velir, embracing him and resting her cheek against his. "I am so glad you are here," she whispers, closing her eyes. "Safe and sound. And with me." Her heart beats faster with a little worry. "I am not presumptuous, am I? Things will be different with us, now? We are... we can try to be together?"

Graham shrugs and shakes his head. "Anyway, I don't know how Palver did it...I'm sure smart folks will figure it out and drug him up or whatever--heh, hopefully something unpleasant--to keep him from doing it again." The he frowns slightly. "Most days it feels like there are too many absolute monsters chasing too many innocents, Doc."

He takes another sip of his drink. "Let's talk about the fun stuff...I mean, how about that fire, right?" he says dryly, shrugging at the same time.

She gives a slight smile and raises her tea in a toast to Graham. "Indeed. They never told us in medical school that the practice becomes considerably more interesting when a house is burning down around you."

"Wow." Collins chimes in. "I really did miss all the fun, huh?"

Graham a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. "Well, you missed...stuff...that's for sure."

He sighs. "I doubt Kylah or Rangin are going to nominate me for Officer of the Year Award." He shakes his head. "You shouldn't sugar coat anything in your report, either, Doc. Uh, not sure if Vulcans do that, but...in any event, don't beat yourself up, L-T. I could sit here and beat myself about about a bunch of things. I'm sure I will, later while I write my report. But..." He stretches and his shoulders audibly pop. "At my age, 'Sis'," he says, glancing at Collins, "you have a lot of really big fuck ups under your belt to keep things in perspective."

"Missions aren't always pretty but the good guys won one today."

"Thank you, Mr. Graham," Dr. T'Var says. "I will of course be candid in my AMR, but I suspect you'll have nothing to fear from it."

"Okay, then, 'bro'," Collins says, forcing a laugh, "with my two, I'm off to a good start." Collins gets up, and picks up her tray. She motions to the others to put their trash on it. "I'm going to take a walk, maybe by Observation, then head back to my bunk. Thanks for the drink and the ear, Booker. See you both in the morning."
She disposes of the trash appropriately, and exits the Mess.

As she nestles in next to him, Rangin can feel her warmth set against the chill that is beginning to settle in the air.

"Yes. Yes, from here on, we can try to be together. Or as it is on this night, right here and right now, we are together. OCIII has not been the happiest of places to be, I wish there was a way to leave on a good note. So far, the best part of this mission, present company excepted of course..." Rangin squeezes Kylah's hand and kisses her on the cheek "...was the lunch we had and to think we have to return to the delight's of the Yorktown's galley and miss out on one of the expensive five-star repasts on offer here."

Rangin smiles in the darkness and wraps an arm around Kylah drawing her closer. "You...you wouldn't consider a last drink here would you, a little way to say goodbye to this planet and to try to end it on a good memory. Just me and you?"

Collins sees Delaney entering the Mess as she is leaving. He looks glum.

The lights go on around the perimeter of the park as Rangin and Kylah cuddle. A man is walking along the pathway a few dozen meters away; they do not recognize him.

When Velir's lips brush against Kylah's cheek, she smiles and sighs contentedly, feeling the strength of his arms to be a haven she is loath to leave. This is not a position she is used to--literally or figuratively. She has no idea what it is like to have someone to care about, who cares about her. Will life on the Yorktown finally be bearable, even pleasant?

How will they even be together, how will others react if they know? A sudden surge of protectiveness makes her hold Velir tighter. She does not want others to know about them. But while the ship is large, the community within seems small. At the Academy, no relationship seemed to escape the keen eyes and gossiping mouths of the cadets, or--as Kylah could tell--the minds of the staff. Can she and Velir retain some privacy? Collins and Cooper certainly could not. But perhaps they did not try.

Worry about that later. We are not on the ship yet, she thinks, closing her eyes and kissing Velir high on his own cheek, then murmurs in his ear in response to his suggestion: "A drink, yes, and perhaps more than that?" When she notices the lights turning on, she moves away a little shyly and glances down to check her chronometer before she continues. "I am famished. It is still early, and I have kept copious notes on this mission throughout. I do not think it will take long to write my report. Perhaps a meal would not go amiss?"

She clutches his hand again and starts forward, tugging him along with her playfully. "And not just Otherworldly again. Let us try the French restaurant, the one none of the others dared go into. A small indulgence after what we have been through." Then it suddenly strikes her that she is presuming a lot about Velir's finances.

Smoothly she adds: "In fact, you deserve all the indulgence. You saved our lives--or at least our memories, depending on what Palver's true plans were. So I insist dinner is my treat. It is the very least I can do to repay you, unless you can think of some other special wish I might grant. You have but to ask, Ensign, and I will fulfill it." She flashes a teasing smile back to him before returning to face the path. Her mind is busy wondering: What gift would a man like Velir wish for? He seems very grounded, nothing ostentatious would suit him. A handsome silver bracelet? An antique book or sculpture?

Collins stops and turns. "Lieutenant?" she addresses Delaney, "what's wrong?"

"Kylah, the only thing that I could possible wish for this fine evening is the pleasure of your company, nothing further could possibly be asked for. In the future perhaps I might wish for, nay desire, more. But all I would ask now is just one pleasant memory of this place before we leave."

Rangin follows her slightly down the path. "Now French sounds excellent and if it is as good as Otherworldy, I am certainly looking forward to it. Shall we?"

Rangin gestures down the path to the restaurants.

Kylah is amused and delighted by Velir's old-fashioned formality and happily enters the resort to find their destination. Although something tickles the back of her mind as she mulls over his words. 'I might wish for, nay desire, more...' Her eyes widen with understanding just when they reach the entrance. Did he think I was offering... Blushing, she bites her tongue to avoid blurting out I did not mean that! Velir would not pressure her and even if he assumed she was flirting with him that way, he was only joking in return. Probably.

In any event, this will be the first dinner of many, she hopes. Kylah is certain that as things progress, there will be plenty of time to talk to him about such matters.

Assuming they are met by a maître d' at the restaurant, Kylah will ask for a table for two. She glances around the restaurant, trying to see what the food is like and also to note whether the tables are full. Have the guests returned to their normal routines?

Delaney forces a smile and says, "Just a lot on my mind, I guess. Glad you're up and about, though, Jeremi." He is trying to seem upbeat but not doing particularly well at it, she thinks.

En Francais is a sleek, elegant restaurant, offering the finest in French and New Parisian dishes. It is perhaps two-thirds filled. The guests seem to have returned to their normal routines, if indeed they ever left them. Kylah and Rangin are soon seated and menus - without prices - are put in their hands by an attentive waiter in a crisp black-and-white uniform reminiscent of an Old Earth tuxedo.

"Thanks." Collins smiles back. "Do you want to talk about it?" She's not sure why she asked, and half hopes Delaney declines the offer, but she'll listen if he wants to talk.

He sighs. "No, thanks. I need to get to Engineering and put out some fires. Not literally."

"Okay, then." Collins tells him, "Have a good evening."

Rangin accepts the menus from the waiter, thanks him and lets him know they will order in a few minutes. Looking at the menu, Rangin raises an eyebrow as his heart sinks. Although French makes everything sound so very good, the descriptions of the dishes are certainly florid and grandiose and have half a dozen things on it Rangin is fairly certain he would never want to eat. He is happy for other animals to chow down on anything and everything, t that doesn't mean he wants to join in. He also isn't surprised the wine list is a bible in its own right and he is unsure what would be good to drink.

Looking across at Kylah, who seems to have a better understanding of the menu, he remembers back to the last time they ate on shore leave. But it's doubtful this restaurant has the same on offer. On the other hand...

Rangin places the menus back on the able. "Kylah, It's been a long few days here. If you wouldn't mind, surprise me. With luck, the food can try to make up for everything else that has gone on."

* * *

Kylah's gaze flicks upwards to stare over the menu at Velir, and at his words she feels a little thrill. It is flattering to be trusted, and... well, she wants to impress him. Not to show off, exactly--that has never gone well for her. But to judge his taste accurately and thus please him.

...And, yes, to show confidence and self-assurance. If she was taught anything while growing up, it was how to host guests. Once she became the oldest female in her House, that role fell to her.

First, when the sommelier arrives, she orders a bottle of Chateau la Barre '53, a champagne of excellent vintage. Assuming the sommelier returns and pours as expected, it will then be the waiter's turn to ask if they are ready to order.

When that happens, Kylah lowers the menu and responds: "Oui, je voudrais commander maintenant. Comme hors d'œuvre, mon ami prendrait les gnocchi de pommes de terre et poireaux... En fait, moi aussi, s'il vous plait?"*

She looks back at the menu, using her fingernail to point at the offerings. "Comme plat principal, il voudrait tournedos de boeuf, chou-fleur et truffe noire finement gratiné. Et moi, je prendrai le roulade d'agneau au romarin à la sauce au vin rouge. Merci."** She smiles and hands the waiter her menu.

Kylah then turns to Velir, reaching for her now-filled glass. "To start with, I chose the potato and leek gnocchi--for both of us. And for your main course, since I know you are no vegetarian, I thought you would enjoy the fillet of beef with cauliflower and black truffles. Does that sound good to you, I hope?"

* * *

While the waiter is accepting the order from Kylah, Rangin nods appreciatively of the meal she has ordered, simultaneously trying to keep his jaw from hitting the table as Kylah orders in what he can only think is fluent french. After he has left, Rangin looks back in amazement to the lady sitting opposite him.

"Where did you learn to do that? The meal sounds delicious as well, I'm sure it will be as fine as anything the resort has to offer. I'm almost surprised to find that some parts of the experience here are fit for purpose given everything we have found."

Looking around and seeing the happy guests and the efficiently run restaurant, Rangin shakes his head bemused by it all. "You'd think nothing had happened, that everything was still running smoothly. I wonder what answers you would receive if you asked the guests what they thought of the resort instead of us having to poke around." Stopping and chuckling to himself, Rangin continues "Listen to me, going on about work, when I should be praising you for your fine choice and excellent company."

He holds the champagne flute up and looks across to Kylah, inclining his head slightly, "Cheers!"

* * *

Kylah lifts her glass. "To good fortune," she says softly, and sips, her eyes remaining on Velir. The champagne tingles sweetly on her tongue and she is careful not to drink too much. "As for my French... I have always been able to learn languages easily. It is a diplomatic advantage, since the art of understanding people in their native tongue has been taken over by the universal translator. There are nuances of dialect and meaning that technology cannot match. And people are flattered by the effort. It is a gesture of goodwill."

She shrugs slightly and contemplates Velir's other thoughts. "The resort itself is run relatively well--although I cannot forget the laxity of the cleaning service when it came to Wilson's suite and linens." The memory makes her grimace, as does a belated realization.

"Do you know, Velir... Our mission... it was really a farce. Whatever recommendation we made would have mattered little: Either Wilson's bribery would have prevailed, or Palver's. The matter truly depended on whose corruption was more effective with Hardin."

After a hesitation, Kylah lowers her voice. "...And who knows who else on this board shared in the ill-gotten wealth? At this point we do not know how far this poison has reached. I almost wonder if Hardin will be safe, wherever he ends up. Then again, if corruption has gone that far, he may escape punishment entirely. Nothing would surprise me now. I will be honest in my report, at any rate."

With another drink of the champagne, she shakes her head. "No more business. Velir, I have been so curious... How did you break free of Palver? I felt so helpless, but you... You must have remarkable mental will to do so. You have spoken little of your past, but I know things on Coridan could be terribly dangerous. Did you... have you been in such a situation before? Held captive, like that? Forgive me if it is too personal."

* * *

Velir considers the drink in his hand looking distantly through the bubbles as they rise up through the clear liquid held within. "I...I have no idea what happened or how," he answers after a little while with a sigh, "I wish I did, but nothing I know of makes any sense. When it comes to things like that, I am nothing special."

A wry smile crosses his lips and then fades as he remembers what happened. "I do know I was scared. I honestly thought that our last mission had come back to haunt us, though fortunately, that was not the case. As for happening before. Yes, yes it's happened before." Velir shudders as he remembers the outcome, "It was not pleasant and not a story for an occasion such as this."

Blinking a couple of times, his then remembers back to the last time he had been paralysed. Smiling, he continues, "However, the last time I was paralysed you might find more amusing and, although I was not that amused at the time, I can look back on it with fondness."

He puts the drink down and looks around in time to see the starters arriving. Unfolding the napkin and neatly placing it on his lap, Velir accepts the food being placed in front of him with a gracious "Thank you."

"Now where was I, hopefully this won't put you off your food, but I was assisting in cataloguing some large herbivores..."

* * *

Kylah listens intently to Velir's words, surprised that he is still uncertain as to how he got free. She starts to assure him that he is, indeed, very special, but from the look on his face she does not wish to interrupt. Nor does she press him on whatever unfortunate experience he had earlier that so disturbs him.

Instead she just nods, thanks the waiter when their gnocchi arrives, and starts to eat--but only after encouraging Velir to tell his story. As he recounts the tale, she smiles, and laughs... and all the while hopes that whatever darkness has surrounded Velir's life, he will never know such a time again.


-----------------------------------


Rough translation:

* "Yes, I would like to order now. For the appetizers, my friend wishes the potato and leek gnocchi... in fact, I (will order that) too, please?"

** "For the main course, he would like the fillets of beef, with cauliflower and finely-grated black truffles. And I will have the roulade (rolled pastry) of lamb with rosemary and red wine sauce. Thank you."

Delaney nods and goes on his way.

Dr. T'Var finishes her tea and excuses herself, leaving Graham alone.

Rangin and Kylah have a delicious meal together. The waiter returns with the dessert menu, which has eight enticing items listed.

Instead of taking the shortest route to her cabin, Collins decides to go around the deck the long way. She chooses a crisp, rhythmic pace for a bit of cardio before turning in for the night.

Graham remembers the perfume he bought for Lt. Bennett and wonders if it has been beamed to his quarters. He the wonders if he should have himself beamed into space in order to avoid dealing with it. Did it seem a good idea at the time, Booker, or was it always obviously dumb?

Shaking his head, he busses his tray and then heads to his quarters. He secures an old-fashioned pen and paper and writes a note: To Lieutenant Cecilia Bennet--he underlines "Lieutenant"--Congratulations, BCG.

Now what do I do with it, he asks himself? He checks the duty roster for Bennett's schedule.

Collins has a brisk walk and feels pleasantly tired by the time she gets back to her quarters. Kylah is not there, of course.

Bennett is off-duty at the moment, according to the duty roster.

"...And so finally," Rangin is saying, "they applied the antitoxin and after a couple of minutes I could finally move again. Of course, that didn't stop them trying to take last picture being taken of me with my arms wrapped round Jace's shoulders. They realised the anti-toxin was working faster than expected when I started to strangle him. He took it in good grace though and he did make up for it for the rest of the time I was there. Yes before you ask, I do have a picture of that. No, you can't see it. Yet."

Rangin sits back in his seat having finished the story, which had been told in bits and pieces through the meal. "I must admit the meal was excellent, and I have really enjoyed it. And I must say thank you for listening, I hope it didn't bore you too much."

Accepting the menu for desert, he can pick out the one thing he recognises, "Mmm, ice cream, la glace," he notes from the options arrayed in front of him. "I wonder what is special about the version here."

* * *

Kylah is still smiling from Rangin's storytelling abilities. He is an excellent raconteur, and his self-deprecating humor as he described the scene--even though the paralysis must have been highly unpleasant--is charming.

She cocks her head at an angle while she scrutinizes the menu. "I can tell you what is special about at least one option. That parfait is weighed down in rich chocolate sauce, white chocolate truffles, rare Altairian nuts soaked in Saurian brandy, and edible gold-pressed latinum."

Her eyebrow lifts. "It must be worth two-day's stay at the resort all by itself. All for show. At my cousin Elaan's wedding, the cake was coated with the edible gold-pressed latinum, and it added literally no taste. Its sole point was novelty and decadence. Typical of Troyius--and many aspects of this resort."

She closes the menu and, when the waiter arrives, orders a pair of contrasting desserts--one a miniature triple-chocolate mousse gateau that practically has her name on it, the other a tarte Tatin with baked pears, almonds soaked in brandy--French, not Saurian--and honey-vanilla ice cream.

"We can share, I hope," she says when the desserts arrives. Though mostly sated from her delicious lamb course, she has left room to indulge her sweet tooth. The difficult part is not wolfing the mousse down all by herself; It is not the Elasian way to hide one's appetites or enjoyment of food, but Kylah remembers her roommates at the Academy sharing notes about how little they ate when out with their boyfriends. Perhaps she should emulate them...

But one taste of the heavenly chocolate erases that strategy from Kylah's mind. She closes her eyes and nearly groans at the explosion of pleasure on her tongue. Then she digs in.

* * *

Rangin looks across at Kylah, who also seems to be enjoying her dessert and wonders what stories she might have that she could share. Rangin still doesn't know that much about her, other than her gift of languages. "Kylah, if you wouldn't mind, perhaps there is something you could answer for me. You're obviously excellent at languages", he says as he gestures to the delicacies in front of them, "but when we were facing off against Mr Palver, I'm sure you were saying something in Klingon. What was it, and whereabouts did you wind up picking that up from? I don't remember any classes on it at the Academy."

* * *

Kylah's fork freezes on its way to her lips. She forces herself to complete the mousse's journey from plate to her mouth, giving herself time to come up with a response. After swallowing a bite that now might as well be gold-pressed latinum for all she can taste it, she slowly lowers the fork and pays more attention to the silverware than Velir's questioning face. "I told Palver he came from a race of menials. A petaQ," she adds in a near-whisper, not wanting anyone to overhear.

"Yes, it is true, there is no course in Klingon language at the Academy. Although there should be. Understanding how a people express themselves leads to comprehending how they think. As for me, I do not quite remember where I learned..."

No, he will not believe such an obvious lie. Kylah sets her fork on the plate with a tiny clink before she reaches down to raise her napkin, wiping some nonexistent chocolate from her face. "No, I do recall. There were some Klingons present at a function or two on Elas. We are very close to their border as you probably know, and this was long before we were approached by the Federation. I was young, I guess I must have overheard them speaking amongst themselves. They also sang, and their war ballads are very... catchy."

And this allows her to change the subject. "Music is very important to me, it is like another code or language to be unearthed. I wish I had been able to hear some of the entertainers here. I understand the guest singer who performed at the club was--was very good."

That topic dies on her lips as well. Far too much a reminder that on their first evening here, she should have been dancing to that very singer at the nightclub. Instead she allowed those plans to be swept aside by a much more intimate dance... "But it is getting late," Kylah says, a bit too loudly, forcing a smile as she still does not look up at Velir. "Perhaps we should finish up?"

* * *

Rangin looks across at her with a slight touch of concern. He can tell she is being slightly evasive but doesn't want push the point. She may know Klingon, but she really doesn't want to say where precisely she learned it from. Another mystery about Kylah. Then she mentions the singer, the nightclub and for a brief moment he vividly remembers what happened there. But no, this night is too good to ruin with such thoughts. He finishes his dessert quietly and then neatly places the cutlery down. After one last sip of champagne he looks across and smiles "Thank you for a wonderful meal. It was most delicious and I'm happy to find at least one part of this resort has been trouble free. It is a shame to leave it and have to write a report."

* * *

With a quick nod, Kylah lets herself relax and accept Velir's compliment. "Thank you as well. If only the rest of our mission had been so unblemished." She asks for the check but pays no attention to it and uses her thumb to pay the bill, whatever it is. The waiter is about to pull her chair out for her when Velir does so himself. Kylah has never quite understood this ritual--surely only the most infirm person would need assistance at pushing oneself out of a chair?--but accepts it with another murmured Merci to both men.

Once they have left the restaurant and are back in the cool night air, Kylah takes a deep breath. The resort grounds are now dotted with lights, and here by the restaurant the surrounding gardens are particularly beautiful. She looks up at the sky, able to see the ship in orbit--and Fastolfe's Chariot as well, unless she is mistaken.

"I have hated this place," she says quietly, the words pulled from her almost hypnotically as she hugs herself. "Yet I do not want to leave. There have been such conflicting experiences. Things I will never forget, both bad and good."

* * *

"I know. I have had the same thoughts." Rangin hesitates, looking down at her face. Half is bathed in shadow, dim even in the pale, blue-white starlight, the rest reflects the golden warmth of the restaurant's lanterns. Her stark beauty is emphasized either way, but the dichotomy of her appearance seems a metaphor for both this mission and whatever battle is going on inside her.

"But I can think of one good thing that came out of this", he murmurs quietly to himself. Gently he slips his arm around her shoulders. Not just because she is obviously chilly, of course. He is careful to put only the slightest pressure on her, almost a question... which she answers by leaning against him, her head falling against his shoulder. He can feel her sigh, and he hopes it is one of contentment again. Hope. Rangin closes his eyes and remembers when he last allowed himself this much hope. Perhaps this time would have a different resolution. Then he blinks and tries to relax thinking that right now, the beautiful young lady at his side is all that matters.

It might be a defensive impulse, a need to move past what had happened and start afresh with the present, but Velir cannot help himself: he lifts his hand to Kylah's face and with a delicate touch tilts her to him. Her impossibly dark eyes stare up at him and he says, almost urgently: "May I kiss you, Kylah?"

* * *

Kylah is so close she can see the stars reflected in Rangin's eyes. Something is bothering him as well, but it is inchoate and she will not press to read more of his emotions than are shown through his expression and unconsciously through his touch. She has never pushed toward his feelings, showing more restraint with Velir Rangin than with anyone she has ever met. Perhaps this forced control against her overwhelming mental impulses is why, even before he asks, she is already aching to connect with him in some physical way.

Wordlessly she slides her arms up around his neck and presses close against him, kissing him tentatively. Only a few seconds pass before she moans softly at how delicious he feels and tastes, and she dares to run her hand through his hair, pulling him closer and deepening their kiss.

She knows this magic will end soon and they must soon beam up. But now is all that matters.

Collins enters her cabin. Although just tired enough to sleep well, her mind starts racing. She still has to apologize to Rangin and Kylah, but she is not at ease with them the way she is with Graham. She has not been at all happy these last few days; she hopes mending fences with her crew mates will help fix that. Then there's Ben. She has no idea what to do with that relationship. Maybe it's time to move on, or maybe he wants to dump her. She dreads their next meeting.

Collins is relieved to see Kylah has not yet returned. She unpacks her things from her brief stay on OCIII, and places the Mazine's bag on the dresser before going to wash up. She comes out of the head, absentmindedly picks up the shopping bag and puts it on her bunk. She sits down next to it and just stares straight ahead for a few minutes. Without looking at it, she picks up the bag and pulls out, two?, boxes. She opens the smaller one and sees the diamond and emerald earrings. Sighing, she thinks I should not have accepted these. They're gorgeous, but... Jeremi stares at the earrings a bit longer, then closes the box and picks up the slightly bigger one. This one must be Kylah's, in my bag by mistake. She stands up, intending to place the unopened box on Kylah's bunk, but curiosity gets the better of her. Slowly, she opens the box and sees an elaborate and at the same time tasteful diamond and emerald bracelet, a perfect match to the earrings. Stunned, she sits back down with a thud, dropping the box on the floor. After staring at it lying on the floor for a few moments, she starts to cry, and mutters "No, no, no." over and over.

Graham stares at his note. It look like it was written by a five-year old, he thinks. My handwriting never has been any good.

He underlines "Lieutenant" again, as carefully as he can, and then after a moment crumples it up and tosses it to the floor.

I'll just give her the damn box in person, he concludes. He calls the Communications duty officer on the Bridge. "Where is Lt. Cecilia Bennett, please?"

Kylah breaks off the kiss for but a moment and sees, several dozen meters away, Jan Švehla and two other men walking through the gardens towards En Francais. They do not appear to have seen Kylah and Rangin.

As Kylah leans back from him, Rangin can feel her tense, her fingers tightening into his arms. "Is...is something wrong? Have I done some..." he asks gently before realising she is looking past his shoulder as she shrinks into him as if to hide from what is behind. What had been a woman whose very touch showed happiness and excitement was now one who is radiating nervousness, perhaps regret or even fear. But undoubtedly, Kylah does not want to be here.

He had last seen this reaction in the park when a certain "gentleman" had walked by. "It's him isn't it?" Rangin felt no need to say the name. He briefly holds her tight and the releases her standing Kylah on her own two feet. Glancing over he sees him and the looks back to Kylah. Lifting her chin up with his thumb and finger, Rangin looks straight into her eyes.

"I know what you're feeling, how it would be easier to run, not think about it and you'll never have to see him again." He can feel the ghosts of past mistakes crawling across his skin, interfering in this night of all nights, the siren song of HER voice back once again. Only this time, Kylah wouldn't have to hear such a painful melody.

"Take it from someone who knows, someone who didn't just walk away but ran as fast as he could. Please, this is your last chance whatever happened. Confront him, sort it out now before we leave this planet, or you will spend the rest of your life regretting it and looking over your shoulder waiting for it to come around."

"I will be right there with you, you don't have anything to prove, just face it and walk away satisfied that you did what you needed to do."

Kylah can only stare mutely at Jan and wish she could vanish. The horrible juxtaposition of seeing him now, in the middle of kissing Velir... only two nights after she and Jan were doing the same thing. She feels cheap.

Of course Velir notices the change in her demeanor--he would even if she were better able to hide her mortification. Her first instinct makes her want to hiss, "We must beam up, we must beam up now!" But she finds Velir forcing her attention back to him and giving her what, to him, probably seems like the ideal advice.

But she has confronted Jan. And it was not satisfying, not at all. Jan reacted with polite dismay but never once, not once, took responsibility for what happened. Only excused his refusal to listen to her by claiming she seemed to enjoy herself. The thought disgusts her because as correct as he is regarding her physical responses, everything she said, her pleas for help, should have told him the truth.

Kylah cannot tell Velir this. She does not know what Velir thinks happened. And she never told him she saw Jan again. Neither does she want to behave like a cowering weakling in front of Velir a second time. No, she realizes miserably while staring up at Velir's intent, supportive expression. It will be the fourth time you let him down with your cowardice. Only hours ago, she was up on the Trimalchio, first having a hysterical fit, then fainting like a damsel in distress.

Without a word she turns and faces Jan and his unknown companions. She cannot gauge his mood--her own churning emotions, and Velir's strongly radiating encouragement, do not allow her to concentrate. After a tight, silent nod, Kylah keeps her own expression an affectless mask and begins to walk along the path.

Velir is not letting go of her hand, clearly out of protection and solidarity. She cannot bring herself to pull away even though the thought of Jan seeing her even so casually linked with Velir makes her ill.

This near-stranger is someone who this morning seemed convinced their sickening intimacy was magical, who--even after she just told him how violated she felt--expressed his hope that she might contact him for a repeat performance, who even claimed he could fall in love with her.

What will he do if he sees her with someone else?

Kylah swallows back her bile and walks forward in a daze like a woman approaching the gallows.

Ens. Meredith Davis tells Graham in her broad Australian accent, "Lt. Bennett's communicator signal indicates she's in the Arboretum. Shall I put you through?"

Jan is talking to the two men as they walk. Kylah sees as she draws closer that they are both Human, black, in their mid-forties, and of similar appearance. Jan finally notices her and his face falls. "Ah... um, Ens. Kylah. Hello. How are you?" He does not sound especially eager to hear her answer. He glances from her to Rangin, then back again, and forces a smile.