Ink and Waterstains | part vi | TNG/VOY
headers and notes, see part i
"She refuses to give up the telescope and she is three hours over her allotted time, Admiral." Lieutenant Taitt, her petite science officer, taps her foot in frustration. "I know it's my job to make sure everyone gets use of the equipment--"
"You make sure they share."
"Yes, Admiral, and most of the time they do, but Doctor sh'Askenten is- difficult, Admiral."
"And you work with her wife."
"Yes, Admiral. I work with many wives." There's a hint of apprehension in her voice and Kathryn makes a mental note to try and keep her arguments with Beverly civil or at least out of her staff's hair. "I think you have to talk to her. Doctor Shishalan is already frustrated and Doctor Timordan is threatening to send another report to the Federation Science Council."
Kathryn frowns at her empty coffee cup and then at the clock when she realises how long she's supposed to wait for another hypo and another cup. At least Three is asleep, for the rare few hours of time when she does that. "I'll come down and sort it out, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Admiral."
Leaving her chair reminds her of the crick in the base of her spine and Kathryn is careful not to frown at the young officer. "So, you served on the Enterprise, Taitt?"
"Yes, Admiral. I served on the Enterprise-D until she crashed, then I transferred to Deep Space 2. This position opened up last year and I accepted the promotion because I wanted to head my own department."
The turbolift whisks them down from station operations, a round, bright room more panels than should be allowed anywhere, down to the science section which is decks upon decks of labs, telescopes and offices. She has yet to tour the full station, though she's been meaning to. Her day started with a failed stabiliser, two ships experiencing different types of engine failure, a primary school introduction for the new admiral (which included the announcement that Admiral Janeway Day will be in six months' time) and squabbling scientists.
"I served with Doctor Crusher, when she was Doctor Crusher, I mean. Doctor Janeway was in charge of my first shift on the bridge."
"Gamma shift?"
"Skeleton crew, the rest of the ship was down on a planet, looking for Commander Data and Doctor Cr- Janeway was in command of the ship. We defeated a rogue Borg vessel--"
"With metaphasic shielding and a solar flare." Now she remembers. "Beverly's still proud of that. With good reason, the Borg are pretty tough, rogue or not."
"Thank you, Admiral."
They only have to start down the corridor before they hear the raised voices. Taitt winces slightly and Kathryn pats her shoulder. "Maybe I should call security."
"They usually don't hit each other, just yell, a lot, but the deadline for a number of scientific awards is coming up and last year there was a riot in the radiology lab."
Kathryn puts her hands on hips and takes a deep breath. "Let's try and avoid that, shall we?"
Taitt opens the door. Five scientists, all yelling, surround Emor sh'Askenten, who stands in front of the long range telescope with her hands folded over her chest. She isn't yelling, so that's something.
Some of Taitt's staff, mostly ensigns, surround the chaos and Kathryn waves them back, heading straight for the middle of the melee.
"Everyone stop talking or I'll have the entire science section shut down."
They don't even pause and Kathryn puts her hands up.
"NOW!"
They stop, all staring at her with various degrees of rage. Emor is completely cool, the eye of the storm, so Kathryn starts with her.
"What's going on?"
"The long range telescope is blocked, which prevented me from doing my research."
"Blocked?"
"It's a long range telescope."
"How can it be blocked?"
"She's preventing me from finishing vital research--"
The voices behind her continue to go on and on until Kathryn turns, livid.
"Get out."
None of them move. One of them even has the gall to keep talking. She'd be polite if it wasn't already thirteen hundred hours, which is ninety minutes past when she intended to have lunch, and as she faces them all, she wants them all to scatter, like the squabbling puppies they are.
Kathryn drops her voice and puts the full force of her anger into every word. "If I have to repeat myself again, you will be confined to your quarters until I decide that any of you are responsible enough to be near my equipment, do I make myself clear?"
Taitt points to the door and the room clears of all but the relieved yet traumatised ensigns, Emor, Taitt and Kathryn.
"Tell me again about the telescope."
"It is blocked," Emor says, unflinching. "When I try to refocus it the telescope remains blocked almost as if the energy cloud is following the telescope."
"Following the telescope?" Kathryn rubs her forehead. "How?"
"I do not know. See for yourself, Admiral." Emor moves from the telescope, offering the display to Kathryn. In the middle of the screen is a vague cloud of green, like a plasma storm or a piece of a nebula.
"If I refocus to spatial grid 8-3-7, the energy cloud will follow me." Emor inputs the new coordinates and for a moment, there's clear space, then the energy returns, slipping onto the screen like an amoeba in a petri dish.
"How long?"
"One hundred-forty-three different attempts to refocus the telescope, Admiral. three hours, twenty-two minutes--"
Kathryn's known Seven of Nine long enough to raise her hand for silence before anyone gets to seconds. "What is it?"
"This telescope is a long range multi-spectrum observer designed to study stellar clusters. All I can tell you is that the energy cloud appears to be composed of a mobile plasma field and has an ambient temperature of three hundred eleven degrees kelvin."
"In empty space, with no shielding."
"Yes."
"Human body temperature."
"It appears so."
"What else can we point at that thing? How far away is it? How is it moving?"
Emor absorbs Kathryn's questions with a stoicism she finds familiar. "We have several other telescopes that may be of use. It is approximately four point three light years from our position and I do not know, Admiral. Perhaps another scientist is more qualified to answer that."
"All the other scientists are probably rioting in the corridor." Kathryn sighs heavily. Her rage settles down to a boil in the pit of her stomach but she's hungry and her neck hurts. Beverly's not going to be back until after dinner and that makes everything less tolerable. "Taitt?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Pick a few scientists you can trust not to start in with the sacking of the lab and have them assist Doctor Emor in her work."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Report to me when you have some answers. Doctor?"
"Admiral." Emor looks up from the console, barely tolerant of Kathryn's interruption.
"Why didn't you mention this to Lieutenant Taitt?"
"I did not have the opportunity, Admiral. I wished to collect enough data to be sure of my discovery and my fellow scientists did not understand my need for further study."
"Your need for further study--" Kathryn stops herself before she snaps. "Led to a breakdown of discipline in my science lab that I cannot allow. From now on, I need you to clear your hunches with Lieutenant Taitt before you commandeer equipment."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Thank you."
"Good luck, Lieutenant." Kathryn retreats back into the hallway, where she's immediately swarmed with what seems to be the entire scientific community. She holds up her hands, again, urging silence before she has to raise her voice.
"Doctor Emor has a discovery that I need tracked. You will be allowed to assist in that research project and that one only until I am satisfied it does not pose a threat to the station. Do I make myself clear?"
When voices start, she raises both hands again, this time losing her temper. "If anyone wants to file a grievance, you all know where my office is. I have four more meetings, two planned crises and I plan on addressing grievances starting sometime next week. Anyone who wants to assist Doctor Emor may do so, everyone else, get off this deck."
She storms through the turbolift, grabbing the rail and leaning against the wall while her heart slows. What she wouldn't give for B'Elanna's nose breaking ability, or Chakotay's skill with crowds. The turbolift doesn't move and she remembers she specified no destination.
"Rec level five, dining area."
Maybe if she hides in the back of the replimat for lunch, no one will find her until Beverly gets back. It's a foolish hope, but she clings to it for the whole five minutes before her comm badge chirps and summons her back to reality.
Toreth's hair is far too Romulan, and Beverly's still growing it out with a follicle stimulator when they leave Epsilon Volantis and start back to the station. She keeps running her fingers through her thick, black hair as grows steadily longer, trying to keep it untangled.
"Why do your Starfleet allow your military's hairstyles to vary so much?" Toreth asks, careful not to move her head. Her ears are rounded and faintly pink. Her skin is still a deep olive, but Beverly's fairly proud of the ears and the softening of Toreth's cranial structure. She makes a severe yet attractive human and the civilian clothes she took from her ship would let her blend in on Earth, if she wanted to.
"It doesn't affect our work to look different."
"Doesn't it affect morale?"
Beverly ponders the idea. "Not that I've noticed. Earth had some more strict regulations before our last world wars, and Starfleet has some rules about hairstyle, but with so many different species and types of hair it's much easier to leave it up to the discretion of the officers."
She circles Toreth's chair, wanting to get an idea of the length. Her hair is absolutely straight and jet black so that just above the shoulders is abrupt but appropriate. Toreth reaches for Beverly's hair and rubs a lock of it between her fingers.
"I've never seen a full blooded Romulan with anything but black hair."
"Your genome is very specific when it comes to hair type and colour, much like Vulcans, barring certain differences in skin pigmentation."
"We share those as well, though I have not seen a Romulan with hair like Mr. Tuvok's either. Odd that we should have so little genetic diversity."
Beverly puts her tools away, pleased with the result. "There's a mirror in the back if you want to see what you look like."
Toreth touches her forehead, running fingers across her now smooth skin. "I'm afraid I won't recognise myself."
"Your eyes are still yours, the lower faces of humans and Romulans are enough alike that I didn't have to change anything."
"Have you ever seen yourself as another race, Doctor?"
Beverly nods, remembering how much her antennae itched. "I was Andorian for a week as part of my advanced tactical training."
"Are there holos?" Maeute asks from her seat. "I'd love to see."
"Blue suits me."
"Did you have the motor reflex antennae that respond to your facial muscles?"
Beverly tucks her medical kit away. "They itched."
"One of my mothers was on the team that designed them. I remember wearing extra sets of trial pairs when I was young. Once I had on four extra pairs and I looked like a, what is it- a Gorgon?"
"A Gorgon?" Toreth asks.
"A creature from human mythology, woman with snakes for hair who could turn anyone she looked at to stone."
"A less than useful skill."
"She was beheaded."
One corner of Toreth's lips rises in a smile. "Who knew your myths were so brutal."
"The early mythologies of most cultures are full of violence. The Betazoids and the Grizzellans are notable exceptions."
"Betazoids." Toreth cringes, as if something's run cold down her back. "I don't know how you work with a people who can read your thoughts."
"We have to be very honest."
"The Romulan Empire would collapse into dust before we embraced that kind of honesty."
Beverly orders herself a coffee from the replicator and turns to their guest. "Do you drink coffee?"
"Not the Klingon swill. Is human coffee also like tar?"
"No, human coffee is much less viscous." Maeute offers her non-human opinion. "It's not bad."
"I prefer tea." Tuvok adds from the pilot's chair. "You may also prefer the more subtle flavour of tea."
"I will have tea," Toreth says to Beverly. "An Earth tea, please. I've never had one."
Beverly orders a cup of jasmine green tea and hands it to Toreth. "You don't have coffee on Romulus?"
"I don't think we've ever attempted to cultivate it. We have several blends of tea, because we are descended from Vulcans, who are a tea-loving people."
"Vulcans do not engage in emotional relationships with beverages." Tuvok's gaze remains forward. "Humans on the other hand, do frequently form emotional bonds to their food and drink."
"My wife loves coffee."
Maeute blows across the surface of her coffee. "My husbands are both obsessed with root beer, ginger beer, anything sweet and bubbly from Earth drives them both wild. My wife finds them both frivolous, but she's admitted to enjoying them as well. I like coffee."
"My good friend-"
"Picard." Toreth's eyes light when Beverly acknowledges the guess. "You must tell me of Picard, he's something of a legend among Romulan commanders. Square off with Picard and the Enterprise and you could go weeks without buying yourself a drink."
"Picard loves his tea. Earl Grey in particular. You'll have to try that next."
"The drink of the menace to the Empire." Toreth chuckles over her cup. "My parents' ashes would twist in the wind if they knew."
Eventually, Kathryn gives up and eats dinner in the meeting, devouring her pasta while her staff reports. If her station can't stop having a crisis long enough for her to eat, it doesn't need her full attention. Ashmore sits on her left with Beverly gone and Taitt sits to her right, next to Emor, who takes her chair like a queen.
"The plasma cloud appears to move of its own volition, Admiral, almost as if it were alive."
"Life is purely conjecture at this time." Emor rests her hands in her lap, letting Taitt finish her report.
"It covers an area between six and seven thousand cubic metres, large enough to engulf a starship, if one were to pass close enough. The cloud does not currently appear to be headed in any particular direction, but it is attracted to the guiding pulse used by our telescopes. Any transmission on that wavelength is immediately investigated by the cloud."
"Like a fish and something reflective." Ashmore's quicker to believe than Emor.
"Does it pose any danger to the station?"
"No, Admiral," Ashmore says, easing the knot in Kathryn's stomach. "The mass of the station is enough to repel any electromagnetic forces generated by the cloud. Smaller metallic objects, shuttles, runabouts and other spacecraft may be affected by the cloud's presence."
"You mean the cloud might decide a shuttle is more interesting than the guiding pulse of a telescope?"
"It is possible, Admiral."
"Why don't we launch a probe in the cloud's direction to see if that draws its attention more than a pulse."
Emor meets Kathryn's gaze across the table. "The probe may be ignored or destroyed."
"But we'll have learned something either way, won't we?"
Emor agrees to that with a nod, as does Taitt.
Kathryn looks to Ashmore. "Don't tell me we're short on probes?"
"We have several probe casings--"
Staring at her pasta, Kathryn spears a piece in frustration. "However?"
"We are short on the sensory components and thruster assemblies. If we were to mount a spare sensor net from one of the shuttle craft on a torpedo instead, we'd save a probe."
"Any reason the cloud might consider a torpedo a threat?"
Taitt shrugs. "We know it likes our telescope, for all we know, a torpedo might be a sign we want to mate."
Kathryn sighs, remembering when Voyager had to lose her sex appeal to avoid an angry space-dwelling life form. "Let's avoid making any innuendoes, shall we?"
"We'll have a modified torpedo in a few hours, Admiral."
"Thank you, dismissed."
Emor lingers after the other two. Kathryn keeps eating, even though it's nearly cold, she's famished, just as she was yesterday. Maybe she needs to snack more or eat more for lunch.
"My husbands would like you and your wife to join us for dinner tomorrow. They are excellent cooks, and my mates are all gregarious and intrigued by the prospect of getting to know you both. The evening should be pleasantly diverting."
Kathryn swallows her bite. "You are not gregarious?"
"I am not." Emor maintains eye contact and her antennae turn inwards. "I am not fond of most social occasions, though I find you and your wife intelligent."
"Thank you."
"It would please us for you to attend."
"Including you?"
"Yes."
"We'll be there."
Emor nods and heads out of the room, leaving Kathryn with the last few bites of her pasta and a great swath of stars hanging outside the windows. Beverly's mission isn't exactly overdue, but Kathryn wants her back. Even the cat knows she's gone and he keeps looking at Kathryn suspiciously when she picks up paperwork or drops in to make sure he hasn't eaten all of his food.
Maybe he blames her for sending Beverly away. She's going to have to get over this, Beverly will go on missions and she'll stay on the station. It's her station, she can't send herself on away teams whenever she wants anymore. These people need her. They need order and a voice of reason, and stem bolts.
There has to be a better way to run supplies to the deep space stations than through a whole set of starships who take what they need and leave the rest for the fringe outposts. They have too much duranium, not enough conduit shielding and no one knows when they'll get the sensor nets they asked for.
Kathryn scrapes her fork over the last of the sauce in her bowl and leaves her chair to put it back in to the replicator. She wants cheesecake and she spends a few moments trying to decide before she takes the advantage of the moment of silence and retreats to her quarters.
The computer translation of the Romulan story book is on the PADD on the table and instead of unpacking or starting in on all the paperwork that's been piling up during the transition period, she sits down with that. Da Vinci curls up next to her on the sofa, purring contentedly with his feet beneath him.
Kathryn has to alternate between the beautifully illustrated pages and the PADD with the words, but she finds the strangeness of the story fascinating. There's a box bigger on the inside than the outside and angry steel creatures trapped inside their own armour that want to destroy everything that's not them. It's a fantastic tale, and she almost can't believe that the Romulans have such imagination, but she loves it.
It would make an incredible holosuite programme and she's half tempted to see if there's some way to find the Romulan version. Do children's holosuite programmes end up on the black market? Would Barclay know? Is this the Romulan equivalent to Flotter? Do all the Romulan children play it in all their free holodeck time?
The comm interrupts her, waking the cat who gives her a sly look before he stand and starts kneading the muscle of her leg. She twitches, hoping his claws won't dig into her flesh.
"Janeway here."
"Admiral, the runabout Enheduanna has returned with a guest. Doctor Janeway would like your permission to bring her to your quarters."
"A guest?"
"Yes, Admiral. Doctor Janeway says she's an old friend from Deep Space 5."
Kathryn nearly drops the book. Da Vinci crawls into her lap and digs his claws in stubbornly when she tries to stand. "She said Deep Space 5?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"Tell Doctor Janeway to bring her guest to my quarters."
"Right away, Admiral."
Petting the cat gives her hands something to do and Kathryn's too dumbstruck by the idea that a Romulan is on her station, with Beverly, to do anything else before Beverly arrives with her guest in tow. The woman with her is certainly familiar, but she's human when her ears should be pointed and her hair is too long.
"Beverly?"
"Kathryn, you remember Vice Admiral Toreth?"
Kathryn tries to move the cat off her lap, but Toreth crosses to her, making it a moot point.
"What is this?"
"He's a cat, a domestic feline from Earth."
Toreth studies Da Vinci's huge gold eyes and tentatively touches his head. "Do you keep many large creatures?"
"He's big for his species."
"What is his purpose?"
"He likes to be scratched under his chin, like this," Kathryn says, demonstrating. She looks up at Beverly helplessly. "Does he have a purpose?"
"He allows us to serve his needs."
Toreth laughs and Da Vinci enjoys his petting too much to move. "He sounds like the gorbeh we had when I was a child. A big green lazy thing, he was."
"Sounds very similar."
Toreth strokes Da Vinci, shaking her hand as stray pieces of fur cling to it. "Did you like my book?"
"It's exquisite, thank you." Kathryn sets it aside. "But you're not here to meet the cat and talk about gifts."
"I have a proposal for you, Admiral, and you're the only human I can trust to listen to me."
"I do owe you."
"This is so." Toreth brushes her hands on her trousers and sits on the floor at eye level with the cat. "Could I have one?"
"A cat?"
"Yes."
Kathryn looks up at Beverly. "Does anyone here have a cat?"
"We can ask." Beverly shrugs and heads for the replicator.
"I'd like that."
"Vice Admiral--"
"Toreth, please."
"You disguised yourself as a human to ask for a cat?"
Toreth laughs again, a deep pleasant sound. "My apologies, Admiral Janeway, it's been a long time since I've seen a domestic creature."
"You don't visit your mother?"
"She died some years ago, fighting the Klingons. In the last incarnation of the Empire I could have never dreamed of a gorbeh on my ship, but with the new Empress, I doubt she'll have me executed for keeping a cat. Forgive me, I ramble. I need supplies, desperately. I assume you are similarly low on the Federation's supply list?"
"How did you guess?"
"There are no major planets out here, no Romulan starbases, and only a few scattered colonies with little to trade. We're last on the supply convoys and I can't tell you the last time my fleet has been recalled to Romulus. Before we sank to raiding the non-aligned colonies, I discovered you were arriving here and I realised we could be of use to each other."
"You want us to trade with you?"
Beverly passes Kathryn a cup of tea and hands one to Toreth. "It's a good idea, Kathryn."
"We can't--"
"Security of the realm, yes, of course. Some things are easily stripped of proprietary components, Admiral, and duranium is duranium, whether it's made in a Romulan or human foundry."
Kathryn's tea is too hot and she sets it aside. "You think that could work?"
"If it doesn't, I'll be stuck patrolling the far fringes of the Empire against flying ghost clouds with ships that are falling apart while your station suffers from a lack of proper probes."
Kathryn's lips part in astonishment. "You know about that?"
"There's not much to do out here other than watch the Federation indulge their scientific curiosity."
Waving that off, Kathryn goes back to cloud. "A green ghost cloud?"
"One that follows your sensors?"
Kathryn points at the table and the PADDs on it. "Beverly, the top one, left pile, please."
Beverly brings it over and sits down on the floor next to Toreth to read over her shoulder.
"We detected this plasma cloud this morning, it follows our sensors yet seems to have no real mass or direction."
"We've been calling it 'ahriman', which means evil spirit. It's not scientific, but we have no other explanation for it."
"How close have you gotten to it? Has it ever attacked one of your ships?"
Toreth shrugs her shoulders, almost as if she were as human as she appears. "We've stayed away from it. We're usually cloaked this close to the Federation and it doesn't seem interested in cloaked vessels, so far anyway."
"Is this ahriman in any of your texts?"
"Like your virus?" Toreth looks up. "No, there are tales of the ahriman, but they're as based in science as that book."
"Would you be willing to share a missing studying it? If your cloaking devices allow you to get close to it, we could--"
"You humans are so curious, aren't you? My ship has few scientists."
"I could lend you several."
"Scientists who wouldn't mind being on a Romulan warship?"
Kathryn can think of one she'd trust. "An Andorian woman."
"Andorians are acceptable. If she'll stay in the restricted areas and do as I tell her."
"Who?" Beverly asks.
"Doctor Emor, she discovered the plasma cloud, I bet she'd love a chance to see it."
"Her spouses might not like that."
Kathryn fixes Beverly with a look that conveys exactly how much she doesn't like Beverly bringing home Romulans, even friendly ones.
"Doctor Emor is trustworthy."
Toreth starts stroking Da Vinci's head again and studies them both. "I will take your scientist, but I cannot promise we will immediately proceed to the cloud or that I will be able to return her quickly."
"She'll understand."
"She'll have to eat Romulan food."
"How similar is it to Vulcan food?"
"We're not vegetarian, if that's what you're asking."
Da Vinci is only too happy to be adored and purrs.
"I'll need to formalise a trading relationship through an ambassador."
Beverly frowns. "You know a Federation Ambassador who would sanction a questionably legal trading agreement with the Romulans?"
Kathryn beams at her. "I can think of one."
"Kathryn--"
"What?"
"Ambassador Troi is a friend of ours, she'll be happy to formalise a trade agreement."
"Making it not an act of war for you to trade with us?"
"Yes."
"Romulan Ambassadors are not as easy to come by. I am afraid my word as sector commander will have to suffice until I can find a politician who is willing to meet with the Federation. I may need to bring it to the Empress herself."
"If you have the authority."
Toreth sips her tea and nods. "Enough to keep any of us from being declared an enemy of the Empire." She thinks for a moment then asks, "Ambassador Troi is related to the woman on my ship?"
"That's her mother."
"A Betazoid."
"Yes."
"So you don't trust me after all, Kathryn?"
"It's not that I don't trust you, but that the only Federation Ambassador I do trust happens to be Lwaxana Troi."
"Your politicians are as bad as ours."
"Betazoids are honest," Beverly says. "Even blunt."
"All right, Kathryn. You bring me your Ambassador and I'll take your scientist to see the ahriman." Toreth gets to her feet, extending her hand just as a human would.
Kathryn displaces the cat and gets to her feet. "It'll take me a few weeks to bring the Ambassador here."
"When could your scientist be ready?"
"Tomorrow, I'm sure."
Kathryn takes her hand; Toreth's grip is firm.
"I'll look forward to meeting your ambassador."
"She's an unique individual." Beverly says, standing. "Would you like to see more of the station while you're here?"
"It's a little crowded."
"Can't be worse than the Romulan capital. I-" Toreth pauses and smiles, almost shy. "I'd love to see what humans do."
"You mean when we're not plotting the demise of the Romulan Empire."
"I understand I can't see that but I'd love to see the rest. No one looks at me in fear."
"You look human."
Toreth glances across at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "I do. You wouldn't be fascinated to walk down the streets of Romulus and have no one stare at you?"
"Maybe someday I will."
"Perhaps I'll walk on Earth with my real face." Toreth touches her forehead again and smiles at Beverly. "No offence meant, Doctor."
"Come on, we'll buy you a drink and teach you to play pool."
"Pool?"
"It's all about geometry, and no matter what Kathryn says, she's very very good, so we won't let her play."
"So, who's your friend?" Jubiel pries as Beverly orders another round of drinks. They don't have Romulan Ale, but Toreth is just as fond of Skarovian Exterminati as Beverly is. Even if they go straight to her head.
"A trader we know from Deep Space 5," Beverly lies easily. "An old friend."
"Uh uh." The bartender is unconvinced but she lets it go. "Enjoy yourself, Doc."
Maeute and Shret are patiently teaching Toreth the basics of poker while Kathryn and Emor play a vicious-looking game of pool that appears to be to the death by the looks on their faces.
Gnoe grins at her as she takes a seat next to him. "Will they both live?"
"I can't tell. Is Emor always so serious?"
"She has to win."
"We could be here all night."
The waiter brings their drinks and Gnoe clinks his foamy root beer against Beverly's glass of multilayered spirits.
"Here's to staying up all night."
Shret, Maeute and Toreth return from the far table and start dealing a hand of poker.
"I know enough to play, apparently." Toreth takes her brightly coloured drink and stirs it with the straw. "What is this?"
"A Bolian firefeather."
"Bolians do not have feathers."
"Nor are they usually on fire." Beverly leans over the table and drops the bright blue berry in that sends up a blast of flame from the drink.
Toreth's eyebrows shoot up. "You drink this."
"You have to blow it out first."
Extinguishing the flame, Toreth takes a sip. "Strange."
"It's a more herbal taste than most human drinks."
"I'll bring you some Romulan drinks when your ambassador arrives. I can't have you thinking that Romulan ale is all we drink."
"I liked the winter cider on Deep Space 5." Beverly nibbles the strawberry garnishing her drink and picks up her hand of cards.
"You have to try the summerwine, it's like filling a glass with sunshine."
"Bring it and we'll try it." Beverly smiles over at her wife and corrects herself. "I'll try it and taunt Kathryn about it."
Toreth chuckles and shows Shret her hand so he can advise her bid. They whisper to themselves and Maeute leans in towards Beverly.
"Did you warn Toreth about Emor's charming stubbornness?"
"Kathryn thinks her temperament will blend in perfectly on a Romulan ship."
Gnoe laughs, tossing his ante into the centre of the table. "I almost wish I was going with her. Seeing how the Romulans live would be fascinating."
Shret leans back and Toreth bids twenty. Beverly studies her pair of nines and stays in. It's a friendly game, she might as well see how it'll turn out.
Hours later, Toreth has a neat pile of chips, Shret and Maeute are playing a game of pool that seems to have no rules Beverly recognises and Kathryn's head is neatly pillowed on Beverly's shoulder. Beverly has to keep her eyes up and left to not see Kathryn's cards, and she's gotten a few accidental glimpses, not that it's helped her at all.
Toreth bluffs like she's been born to it and if Beverly hadn't just been playing with Will, she'd be much further behind than she is. Emor is too logical of a player, but she seems to be able to read Toreth's bluffs better than Beverly can so it's getting down to the wire between the three of them. Kathryn loses her last hand and snuggles closer to Beverly.
"We've created a monster."
"I'm going to have to teach this to my crew."
Kathryn yawns into her hand. "I'll make sure you get a set of chips before you go."
"You're too kind."
Beverly takes that hand and Emor's pile of chips starts to dwindle. It's part luck but Beverly's not going to argue with it.
"We played every week on the Enterprise, both of them."
Toreth tosses in three hundred, bankrupting Emor and leaving it between her and Beverly's three tens.
"Picard?"
"After a while. Will Riker and Deanna Troi usually beat me."
"I met Riker officially on his visit to Romulus after the Empress was crowned. We did not, unfortunately, get to play poker."
Beverly raises the bet to five hundred, drawing two sixes, which gives her a solid full house. It could be higher, but it's enough to risk a friendly game on.
Toreth counts her chips, then shoves them all forward. "Six hundred eighty."
Beverly tosses in a few more stacks and waits for Toreth to show her hand. Three kings. She cheers and drops her own cards to the table.
Toreth eyes them and shakes her head. "I concede."
"Practice playing your crew and you'll get me next time."
"I do like a challenge."
Beverly gathers the cards and shuffles them back as Toreth sorts the chips. Kathryn's stopped flirting with sleep and is lost, judging by the slow sound of her breathing.
"You wouldn't let her leave to meet with me."
"No."
"As her doctor or her wife?"
"Wife, mostly." Beverly smiles across the table. "Does that change your opinion of Starfleet?"
"It's sweet. I still have to think you're all soft hearted, overly ponderous do-gooders."
"While you're a coldly calculating part of a great Romulan machine-state."
"Exactly." Toreth finishes the last of her drink. "Though it didn't help me with cards."
"I had a good hand."
"You did." Toreth lingers, eyes on Kathryn. "You have a good hand here in more ways than one."
"Romulans fall in love too?"
Toreth's smile has a secretive light to it. "We do, from time to time. Remind me to send you more books."
"We'll try to find you a cat."
Sitting back in the booth, Toreth looks over the nearly quiet bar and watches the two Andorians settle the last part of their pool game with a long, lazy kiss.
"I'd like that." She rests her head on her hand, taking everything in. "I've enjoyed this. Seeing how the Federation lives."
"Much like home?"
"My security officer falls asleep on his wife's shoulder just like your admiral has every time we stay up late, drinking after dinner. My science officer has five children and talks about them every chance he gets. He suggested the book, which I remembered reading as a child. I hope your child enjoys it."
"In my experience, anything with magical boxes and robots is a big hit with children."
Toreth plays with her hair, trying to tuck it behind her alien ears and frowning. "Good. Perhaps, someday, you'll let me show you my side of things."
"I've been told Romulus is beautiful."
"The most beautiful place I've been, but I have yet to see the rest of the universe, so I can hardly be fair."
Beverly kisses Kathryn's forehead, starting to nudge her awake so they can go to bed. "I like that."
"It's gotten me this far." Toreth shuts her eyes and listens to station around them. "Off the edge of the map in unfriendly territory."
Beverly chuckles. "Terribly unfriendly."
"Isn't it just?"
Kathryn rubs her eyes and frowns at Beverly. "Why do you let me fall asleep?"
"Because I love you."
"Right." Kathryn rolls her head along Beverly's shoulder and remembers their guest. "Sorry."
Toreth watches them both, quietly fascinated. "Don't apologise. You've ruined decades of anti-Federation propaganda by being the least dangerous people I've met."
Kathryn's reply is more yawn than giggle. "Ruins the enmity, doesn't it?"
"Consider mine ruined."
"Happy to help."
~ finis ~
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"She refuses to give up the telescope and she is three hours over her allotted time, Admiral." Lieutenant Taitt, her petite science officer, taps her foot in frustration. "I know it's my job to make sure everyone gets use of the equipment--"
"You make sure they share."
"Yes, Admiral, and most of the time they do, but Doctor sh'Askenten is- difficult, Admiral."
"And you work with her wife."
"Yes, Admiral. I work with many wives." There's a hint of apprehension in her voice and Kathryn makes a mental note to try and keep her arguments with Beverly civil or at least out of her staff's hair. "I think you have to talk to her. Doctor Shishalan is already frustrated and Doctor Timordan is threatening to send another report to the Federation Science Council."
Kathryn frowns at her empty coffee cup and then at the clock when she realises how long she's supposed to wait for another hypo and another cup. At least Three is asleep, for the rare few hours of time when she does that. "I'll come down and sort it out, Lieutenant."
"Thank you, Admiral."
Leaving her chair reminds her of the crick in the base of her spine and Kathryn is careful not to frown at the young officer. "So, you served on the Enterprise, Taitt?"
"Yes, Admiral. I served on the Enterprise-D until she crashed, then I transferred to Deep Space 2. This position opened up last year and I accepted the promotion because I wanted to head my own department."
The turbolift whisks them down from station operations, a round, bright room more panels than should be allowed anywhere, down to the science section which is decks upon decks of labs, telescopes and offices. She has yet to tour the full station, though she's been meaning to. Her day started with a failed stabiliser, two ships experiencing different types of engine failure, a primary school introduction for the new admiral (which included the announcement that Admiral Janeway Day will be in six months' time) and squabbling scientists.
"I served with Doctor Crusher, when she was Doctor Crusher, I mean. Doctor Janeway was in charge of my first shift on the bridge."
"Gamma shift?"
"Skeleton crew, the rest of the ship was down on a planet, looking for Commander Data and Doctor Cr- Janeway was in command of the ship. We defeated a rogue Borg vessel--"
"With metaphasic shielding and a solar flare." Now she remembers. "Beverly's still proud of that. With good reason, the Borg are pretty tough, rogue or not."
"Thank you, Admiral."
They only have to start down the corridor before they hear the raised voices. Taitt winces slightly and Kathryn pats her shoulder. "Maybe I should call security."
"They usually don't hit each other, just yell, a lot, but the deadline for a number of scientific awards is coming up and last year there was a riot in the radiology lab."
Kathryn puts her hands on hips and takes a deep breath. "Let's try and avoid that, shall we?"
Taitt opens the door. Five scientists, all yelling, surround Emor sh'Askenten, who stands in front of the long range telescope with her hands folded over her chest. She isn't yelling, so that's something.
Some of Taitt's staff, mostly ensigns, surround the chaos and Kathryn waves them back, heading straight for the middle of the melee.
"Everyone stop talking or I'll have the entire science section shut down."
They don't even pause and Kathryn puts her hands up.
"NOW!"
They stop, all staring at her with various degrees of rage. Emor is completely cool, the eye of the storm, so Kathryn starts with her.
"What's going on?"
"The long range telescope is blocked, which prevented me from doing my research."
"Blocked?"
"It's a long range telescope."
"How can it be blocked?"
"She's preventing me from finishing vital research--"
The voices behind her continue to go on and on until Kathryn turns, livid.
"Get out."
None of them move. One of them even has the gall to keep talking. She'd be polite if it wasn't already thirteen hundred hours, which is ninety minutes past when she intended to have lunch, and as she faces them all, she wants them all to scatter, like the squabbling puppies they are.
Kathryn drops her voice and puts the full force of her anger into every word. "If I have to repeat myself again, you will be confined to your quarters until I decide that any of you are responsible enough to be near my equipment, do I make myself clear?"
Taitt points to the door and the room clears of all but the relieved yet traumatised ensigns, Emor, Taitt and Kathryn.
"Tell me again about the telescope."
"It is blocked," Emor says, unflinching. "When I try to refocus it the telescope remains blocked almost as if the energy cloud is following the telescope."
"Following the telescope?" Kathryn rubs her forehead. "How?"
"I do not know. See for yourself, Admiral." Emor moves from the telescope, offering the display to Kathryn. In the middle of the screen is a vague cloud of green, like a plasma storm or a piece of a nebula.
"If I refocus to spatial grid 8-3-7, the energy cloud will follow me." Emor inputs the new coordinates and for a moment, there's clear space, then the energy returns, slipping onto the screen like an amoeba in a petri dish.
"How long?"
"One hundred-forty-three different attempts to refocus the telescope, Admiral. three hours, twenty-two minutes--"
Kathryn's known Seven of Nine long enough to raise her hand for silence before anyone gets to seconds. "What is it?"
"This telescope is a long range multi-spectrum observer designed to study stellar clusters. All I can tell you is that the energy cloud appears to be composed of a mobile plasma field and has an ambient temperature of three hundred eleven degrees kelvin."
"In empty space, with no shielding."
"Yes."
"Human body temperature."
"It appears so."
"What else can we point at that thing? How far away is it? How is it moving?"
Emor absorbs Kathryn's questions with a stoicism she finds familiar. "We have several other telescopes that may be of use. It is approximately four point three light years from our position and I do not know, Admiral. Perhaps another scientist is more qualified to answer that."
"All the other scientists are probably rioting in the corridor." Kathryn sighs heavily. Her rage settles down to a boil in the pit of her stomach but she's hungry and her neck hurts. Beverly's not going to be back until after dinner and that makes everything less tolerable. "Taitt?"
"Yes, Admiral?"
"Pick a few scientists you can trust not to start in with the sacking of the lab and have them assist Doctor Emor in her work."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Report to me when you have some answers. Doctor?"
"Admiral." Emor looks up from the console, barely tolerant of Kathryn's interruption.
"Why didn't you mention this to Lieutenant Taitt?"
"I did not have the opportunity, Admiral. I wished to collect enough data to be sure of my discovery and my fellow scientists did not understand my need for further study."
"Your need for further study--" Kathryn stops herself before she snaps. "Led to a breakdown of discipline in my science lab that I cannot allow. From now on, I need you to clear your hunches with Lieutenant Taitt before you commandeer equipment."
"Yes, Admiral."
"Thank you."
"Good luck, Lieutenant." Kathryn retreats back into the hallway, where she's immediately swarmed with what seems to be the entire scientific community. She holds up her hands, again, urging silence before she has to raise her voice.
"Doctor Emor has a discovery that I need tracked. You will be allowed to assist in that research project and that one only until I am satisfied it does not pose a threat to the station. Do I make myself clear?"
When voices start, she raises both hands again, this time losing her temper. "If anyone wants to file a grievance, you all know where my office is. I have four more meetings, two planned crises and I plan on addressing grievances starting sometime next week. Anyone who wants to assist Doctor Emor may do so, everyone else, get off this deck."
She storms through the turbolift, grabbing the rail and leaning against the wall while her heart slows. What she wouldn't give for B'Elanna's nose breaking ability, or Chakotay's skill with crowds. The turbolift doesn't move and she remembers she specified no destination.
"Rec level five, dining area."
Maybe if she hides in the back of the replimat for lunch, no one will find her until Beverly gets back. It's a foolish hope, but she clings to it for the whole five minutes before her comm badge chirps and summons her back to reality.
Toreth's hair is far too Romulan, and Beverly's still growing it out with a follicle stimulator when they leave Epsilon Volantis and start back to the station. She keeps running her fingers through her thick, black hair as grows steadily longer, trying to keep it untangled.
"Why do your Starfleet allow your military's hairstyles to vary so much?" Toreth asks, careful not to move her head. Her ears are rounded and faintly pink. Her skin is still a deep olive, but Beverly's fairly proud of the ears and the softening of Toreth's cranial structure. She makes a severe yet attractive human and the civilian clothes she took from her ship would let her blend in on Earth, if she wanted to.
"It doesn't affect our work to look different."
"Doesn't it affect morale?"
Beverly ponders the idea. "Not that I've noticed. Earth had some more strict regulations before our last world wars, and Starfleet has some rules about hairstyle, but with so many different species and types of hair it's much easier to leave it up to the discretion of the officers."
She circles Toreth's chair, wanting to get an idea of the length. Her hair is absolutely straight and jet black so that just above the shoulders is abrupt but appropriate. Toreth reaches for Beverly's hair and rubs a lock of it between her fingers.
"I've never seen a full blooded Romulan with anything but black hair."
"Your genome is very specific when it comes to hair type and colour, much like Vulcans, barring certain differences in skin pigmentation."
"We share those as well, though I have not seen a Romulan with hair like Mr. Tuvok's either. Odd that we should have so little genetic diversity."
Beverly puts her tools away, pleased with the result. "There's a mirror in the back if you want to see what you look like."
Toreth touches her forehead, running fingers across her now smooth skin. "I'm afraid I won't recognise myself."
"Your eyes are still yours, the lower faces of humans and Romulans are enough alike that I didn't have to change anything."
"Have you ever seen yourself as another race, Doctor?"
Beverly nods, remembering how much her antennae itched. "I was Andorian for a week as part of my advanced tactical training."
"Are there holos?" Maeute asks from her seat. "I'd love to see."
"Blue suits me."
"Did you have the motor reflex antennae that respond to your facial muscles?"
Beverly tucks her medical kit away. "They itched."
"One of my mothers was on the team that designed them. I remember wearing extra sets of trial pairs when I was young. Once I had on four extra pairs and I looked like a, what is it- a Gorgon?"
"A Gorgon?" Toreth asks.
"A creature from human mythology, woman with snakes for hair who could turn anyone she looked at to stone."
"A less than useful skill."
"She was beheaded."
One corner of Toreth's lips rises in a smile. "Who knew your myths were so brutal."
"The early mythologies of most cultures are full of violence. The Betazoids and the Grizzellans are notable exceptions."
"Betazoids." Toreth cringes, as if something's run cold down her back. "I don't know how you work with a people who can read your thoughts."
"We have to be very honest."
"The Romulan Empire would collapse into dust before we embraced that kind of honesty."
Beverly orders herself a coffee from the replicator and turns to their guest. "Do you drink coffee?"
"Not the Klingon swill. Is human coffee also like tar?"
"No, human coffee is much less viscous." Maeute offers her non-human opinion. "It's not bad."
"I prefer tea." Tuvok adds from the pilot's chair. "You may also prefer the more subtle flavour of tea."
"I will have tea," Toreth says to Beverly. "An Earth tea, please. I've never had one."
Beverly orders a cup of jasmine green tea and hands it to Toreth. "You don't have coffee on Romulus?"
"I don't think we've ever attempted to cultivate it. We have several blends of tea, because we are descended from Vulcans, who are a tea-loving people."
"Vulcans do not engage in emotional relationships with beverages." Tuvok's gaze remains forward. "Humans on the other hand, do frequently form emotional bonds to their food and drink."
"My wife loves coffee."
Maeute blows across the surface of her coffee. "My husbands are both obsessed with root beer, ginger beer, anything sweet and bubbly from Earth drives them both wild. My wife finds them both frivolous, but she's admitted to enjoying them as well. I like coffee."
"My good friend-"
"Picard." Toreth's eyes light when Beverly acknowledges the guess. "You must tell me of Picard, he's something of a legend among Romulan commanders. Square off with Picard and the Enterprise and you could go weeks without buying yourself a drink."
"Picard loves his tea. Earl Grey in particular. You'll have to try that next."
"The drink of the menace to the Empire." Toreth chuckles over her cup. "My parents' ashes would twist in the wind if they knew."
Eventually, Kathryn gives up and eats dinner in the meeting, devouring her pasta while her staff reports. If her station can't stop having a crisis long enough for her to eat, it doesn't need her full attention. Ashmore sits on her left with Beverly gone and Taitt sits to her right, next to Emor, who takes her chair like a queen.
"The plasma cloud appears to move of its own volition, Admiral, almost as if it were alive."
"Life is purely conjecture at this time." Emor rests her hands in her lap, letting Taitt finish her report.
"It covers an area between six and seven thousand cubic metres, large enough to engulf a starship, if one were to pass close enough. The cloud does not currently appear to be headed in any particular direction, but it is attracted to the guiding pulse used by our telescopes. Any transmission on that wavelength is immediately investigated by the cloud."
"Like a fish and something reflective." Ashmore's quicker to believe than Emor.
"Does it pose any danger to the station?"
"No, Admiral," Ashmore says, easing the knot in Kathryn's stomach. "The mass of the station is enough to repel any electromagnetic forces generated by the cloud. Smaller metallic objects, shuttles, runabouts and other spacecraft may be affected by the cloud's presence."
"You mean the cloud might decide a shuttle is more interesting than the guiding pulse of a telescope?"
"It is possible, Admiral."
"Why don't we launch a probe in the cloud's direction to see if that draws its attention more than a pulse."
Emor meets Kathryn's gaze across the table. "The probe may be ignored or destroyed."
"But we'll have learned something either way, won't we?"
Emor agrees to that with a nod, as does Taitt.
Kathryn looks to Ashmore. "Don't tell me we're short on probes?"
"We have several probe casings--"
Staring at her pasta, Kathryn spears a piece in frustration. "However?"
"We are short on the sensory components and thruster assemblies. If we were to mount a spare sensor net from one of the shuttle craft on a torpedo instead, we'd save a probe."
"Any reason the cloud might consider a torpedo a threat?"
Taitt shrugs. "We know it likes our telescope, for all we know, a torpedo might be a sign we want to mate."
Kathryn sighs, remembering when Voyager had to lose her sex appeal to avoid an angry space-dwelling life form. "Let's avoid making any innuendoes, shall we?"
"We'll have a modified torpedo in a few hours, Admiral."
"Thank you, dismissed."
Emor lingers after the other two. Kathryn keeps eating, even though it's nearly cold, she's famished, just as she was yesterday. Maybe she needs to snack more or eat more for lunch.
"My husbands would like you and your wife to join us for dinner tomorrow. They are excellent cooks, and my mates are all gregarious and intrigued by the prospect of getting to know you both. The evening should be pleasantly diverting."
Kathryn swallows her bite. "You are not gregarious?"
"I am not." Emor maintains eye contact and her antennae turn inwards. "I am not fond of most social occasions, though I find you and your wife intelligent."
"Thank you."
"It would please us for you to attend."
"Including you?"
"Yes."
"We'll be there."
Emor nods and heads out of the room, leaving Kathryn with the last few bites of her pasta and a great swath of stars hanging outside the windows. Beverly's mission isn't exactly overdue, but Kathryn wants her back. Even the cat knows she's gone and he keeps looking at Kathryn suspiciously when she picks up paperwork or drops in to make sure he hasn't eaten all of his food.
Maybe he blames her for sending Beverly away. She's going to have to get over this, Beverly will go on missions and she'll stay on the station. It's her station, she can't send herself on away teams whenever she wants anymore. These people need her. They need order and a voice of reason, and stem bolts.
There has to be a better way to run supplies to the deep space stations than through a whole set of starships who take what they need and leave the rest for the fringe outposts. They have too much duranium, not enough conduit shielding and no one knows when they'll get the sensor nets they asked for.
Kathryn scrapes her fork over the last of the sauce in her bowl and leaves her chair to put it back in to the replicator. She wants cheesecake and she spends a few moments trying to decide before she takes the advantage of the moment of silence and retreats to her quarters.
The computer translation of the Romulan story book is on the PADD on the table and instead of unpacking or starting in on all the paperwork that's been piling up during the transition period, she sits down with that. Da Vinci curls up next to her on the sofa, purring contentedly with his feet beneath him.
Kathryn has to alternate between the beautifully illustrated pages and the PADD with the words, but she finds the strangeness of the story fascinating. There's a box bigger on the inside than the outside and angry steel creatures trapped inside their own armour that want to destroy everything that's not them. It's a fantastic tale, and she almost can't believe that the Romulans have such imagination, but she loves it.
It would make an incredible holosuite programme and she's half tempted to see if there's some way to find the Romulan version. Do children's holosuite programmes end up on the black market? Would Barclay know? Is this the Romulan equivalent to Flotter? Do all the Romulan children play it in all their free holodeck time?
The comm interrupts her, waking the cat who gives her a sly look before he stand and starts kneading the muscle of her leg. She twitches, hoping his claws won't dig into her flesh.
"Janeway here."
"Admiral, the runabout Enheduanna has returned with a guest. Doctor Janeway would like your permission to bring her to your quarters."
"A guest?"
"Yes, Admiral. Doctor Janeway says she's an old friend from Deep Space 5."
Kathryn nearly drops the book. Da Vinci crawls into her lap and digs his claws in stubbornly when she tries to stand. "She said Deep Space 5?"
"Yes, Admiral."
"Tell Doctor Janeway to bring her guest to my quarters."
"Right away, Admiral."
Petting the cat gives her hands something to do and Kathryn's too dumbstruck by the idea that a Romulan is on her station, with Beverly, to do anything else before Beverly arrives with her guest in tow. The woman with her is certainly familiar, but she's human when her ears should be pointed and her hair is too long.
"Beverly?"
"Kathryn, you remember Vice Admiral Toreth?"
Kathryn tries to move the cat off her lap, but Toreth crosses to her, making it a moot point.
"What is this?"
"He's a cat, a domestic feline from Earth."
Toreth studies Da Vinci's huge gold eyes and tentatively touches his head. "Do you keep many large creatures?"
"He's big for his species."
"What is his purpose?"
"He likes to be scratched under his chin, like this," Kathryn says, demonstrating. She looks up at Beverly helplessly. "Does he have a purpose?"
"He allows us to serve his needs."
Toreth laughs and Da Vinci enjoys his petting too much to move. "He sounds like the gorbeh we had when I was a child. A big green lazy thing, he was."
"Sounds very similar."
Toreth strokes Da Vinci, shaking her hand as stray pieces of fur cling to it. "Did you like my book?"
"It's exquisite, thank you." Kathryn sets it aside. "But you're not here to meet the cat and talk about gifts."
"I have a proposal for you, Admiral, and you're the only human I can trust to listen to me."
"I do owe you."
"This is so." Toreth brushes her hands on her trousers and sits on the floor at eye level with the cat. "Could I have one?"
"A cat?"
"Yes."
Kathryn looks up at Beverly. "Does anyone here have a cat?"
"We can ask." Beverly shrugs and heads for the replicator.
"I'd like that."
"Vice Admiral--"
"Toreth, please."
"You disguised yourself as a human to ask for a cat?"
Toreth laughs again, a deep pleasant sound. "My apologies, Admiral Janeway, it's been a long time since I've seen a domestic creature."
"You don't visit your mother?"
"She died some years ago, fighting the Klingons. In the last incarnation of the Empire I could have never dreamed of a gorbeh on my ship, but with the new Empress, I doubt she'll have me executed for keeping a cat. Forgive me, I ramble. I need supplies, desperately. I assume you are similarly low on the Federation's supply list?"
"How did you guess?"
"There are no major planets out here, no Romulan starbases, and only a few scattered colonies with little to trade. We're last on the supply convoys and I can't tell you the last time my fleet has been recalled to Romulus. Before we sank to raiding the non-aligned colonies, I discovered you were arriving here and I realised we could be of use to each other."
"You want us to trade with you?"
Beverly passes Kathryn a cup of tea and hands one to Toreth. "It's a good idea, Kathryn."
"We can't--"
"Security of the realm, yes, of course. Some things are easily stripped of proprietary components, Admiral, and duranium is duranium, whether it's made in a Romulan or human foundry."
Kathryn's tea is too hot and she sets it aside. "You think that could work?"
"If it doesn't, I'll be stuck patrolling the far fringes of the Empire against flying ghost clouds with ships that are falling apart while your station suffers from a lack of proper probes."
Kathryn's lips part in astonishment. "You know about that?"
"There's not much to do out here other than watch the Federation indulge their scientific curiosity."
Waving that off, Kathryn goes back to cloud. "A green ghost cloud?"
"One that follows your sensors?"
Kathryn points at the table and the PADDs on it. "Beverly, the top one, left pile, please."
Beverly brings it over and sits down on the floor next to Toreth to read over her shoulder.
"We detected this plasma cloud this morning, it follows our sensors yet seems to have no real mass or direction."
"We've been calling it 'ahriman', which means evil spirit. It's not scientific, but we have no other explanation for it."
"How close have you gotten to it? Has it ever attacked one of your ships?"
Toreth shrugs her shoulders, almost as if she were as human as she appears. "We've stayed away from it. We're usually cloaked this close to the Federation and it doesn't seem interested in cloaked vessels, so far anyway."
"Is this ahriman in any of your texts?"
"Like your virus?" Toreth looks up. "No, there are tales of the ahriman, but they're as based in science as that book."
"Would you be willing to share a missing studying it? If your cloaking devices allow you to get close to it, we could--"
"You humans are so curious, aren't you? My ship has few scientists."
"I could lend you several."
"Scientists who wouldn't mind being on a Romulan warship?"
Kathryn can think of one she'd trust. "An Andorian woman."
"Andorians are acceptable. If she'll stay in the restricted areas and do as I tell her."
"Who?" Beverly asks.
"Doctor Emor, she discovered the plasma cloud, I bet she'd love a chance to see it."
"Her spouses might not like that."
Kathryn fixes Beverly with a look that conveys exactly how much she doesn't like Beverly bringing home Romulans, even friendly ones.
"Doctor Emor is trustworthy."
Toreth starts stroking Da Vinci's head again and studies them both. "I will take your scientist, but I cannot promise we will immediately proceed to the cloud or that I will be able to return her quickly."
"She'll understand."
"She'll have to eat Romulan food."
"How similar is it to Vulcan food?"
"We're not vegetarian, if that's what you're asking."
Da Vinci is only too happy to be adored and purrs.
"I'll need to formalise a trading relationship through an ambassador."
Beverly frowns. "You know a Federation Ambassador who would sanction a questionably legal trading agreement with the Romulans?"
Kathryn beams at her. "I can think of one."
"Kathryn--"
"What?"
"Ambassador Troi is a friend of ours, she'll be happy to formalise a trade agreement."
"Making it not an act of war for you to trade with us?"
"Yes."
"Romulan Ambassadors are not as easy to come by. I am afraid my word as sector commander will have to suffice until I can find a politician who is willing to meet with the Federation. I may need to bring it to the Empress herself."
"If you have the authority."
Toreth sips her tea and nods. "Enough to keep any of us from being declared an enemy of the Empire." She thinks for a moment then asks, "Ambassador Troi is related to the woman on my ship?"
"That's her mother."
"A Betazoid."
"Yes."
"So you don't trust me after all, Kathryn?"
"It's not that I don't trust you, but that the only Federation Ambassador I do trust happens to be Lwaxana Troi."
"Your politicians are as bad as ours."
"Betazoids are honest," Beverly says. "Even blunt."
"All right, Kathryn. You bring me your Ambassador and I'll take your scientist to see the ahriman." Toreth gets to her feet, extending her hand just as a human would.
Kathryn displaces the cat and gets to her feet. "It'll take me a few weeks to bring the Ambassador here."
"When could your scientist be ready?"
"Tomorrow, I'm sure."
Kathryn takes her hand; Toreth's grip is firm.
"I'll look forward to meeting your ambassador."
"She's an unique individual." Beverly says, standing. "Would you like to see more of the station while you're here?"
"It's a little crowded."
"Can't be worse than the Romulan capital. I-" Toreth pauses and smiles, almost shy. "I'd love to see what humans do."
"You mean when we're not plotting the demise of the Romulan Empire."
"I understand I can't see that but I'd love to see the rest. No one looks at me in fear."
"You look human."
Toreth glances across at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. "I do. You wouldn't be fascinated to walk down the streets of Romulus and have no one stare at you?"
"Maybe someday I will."
"Perhaps I'll walk on Earth with my real face." Toreth touches her forehead again and smiles at Beverly. "No offence meant, Doctor."
"Come on, we'll buy you a drink and teach you to play pool."
"Pool?"
"It's all about geometry, and no matter what Kathryn says, she's very very good, so we won't let her play."
"So, who's your friend?" Jubiel pries as Beverly orders another round of drinks. They don't have Romulan Ale, but Toreth is just as fond of Skarovian Exterminati as Beverly is. Even if they go straight to her head.
"A trader we know from Deep Space 5," Beverly lies easily. "An old friend."
"Uh uh." The bartender is unconvinced but she lets it go. "Enjoy yourself, Doc."
Maeute and Shret are patiently teaching Toreth the basics of poker while Kathryn and Emor play a vicious-looking game of pool that appears to be to the death by the looks on their faces.
Gnoe grins at her as she takes a seat next to him. "Will they both live?"
"I can't tell. Is Emor always so serious?"
"She has to win."
"We could be here all night."
The waiter brings their drinks and Gnoe clinks his foamy root beer against Beverly's glass of multilayered spirits.
"Here's to staying up all night."
Shret, Maeute and Toreth return from the far table and start dealing a hand of poker.
"I know enough to play, apparently." Toreth takes her brightly coloured drink and stirs it with the straw. "What is this?"
"A Bolian firefeather."
"Bolians do not have feathers."
"Nor are they usually on fire." Beverly leans over the table and drops the bright blue berry in that sends up a blast of flame from the drink.
Toreth's eyebrows shoot up. "You drink this."
"You have to blow it out first."
Extinguishing the flame, Toreth takes a sip. "Strange."
"It's a more herbal taste than most human drinks."
"I'll bring you some Romulan drinks when your ambassador arrives. I can't have you thinking that Romulan ale is all we drink."
"I liked the winter cider on Deep Space 5." Beverly nibbles the strawberry garnishing her drink and picks up her hand of cards.
"You have to try the summerwine, it's like filling a glass with sunshine."
"Bring it and we'll try it." Beverly smiles over at her wife and corrects herself. "I'll try it and taunt Kathryn about it."
Toreth chuckles and shows Shret her hand so he can advise her bid. They whisper to themselves and Maeute leans in towards Beverly.
"Did you warn Toreth about Emor's charming stubbornness?"
"Kathryn thinks her temperament will blend in perfectly on a Romulan ship."
Gnoe laughs, tossing his ante into the centre of the table. "I almost wish I was going with her. Seeing how the Romulans live would be fascinating."
Shret leans back and Toreth bids twenty. Beverly studies her pair of nines and stays in. It's a friendly game, she might as well see how it'll turn out.
Hours later, Toreth has a neat pile of chips, Shret and Maeute are playing a game of pool that seems to have no rules Beverly recognises and Kathryn's head is neatly pillowed on Beverly's shoulder. Beverly has to keep her eyes up and left to not see Kathryn's cards, and she's gotten a few accidental glimpses, not that it's helped her at all.
Toreth bluffs like she's been born to it and if Beverly hadn't just been playing with Will, she'd be much further behind than she is. Emor is too logical of a player, but she seems to be able to read Toreth's bluffs better than Beverly can so it's getting down to the wire between the three of them. Kathryn loses her last hand and snuggles closer to Beverly.
"We've created a monster."
"I'm going to have to teach this to my crew."
Kathryn yawns into her hand. "I'll make sure you get a set of chips before you go."
"You're too kind."
Beverly takes that hand and Emor's pile of chips starts to dwindle. It's part luck but Beverly's not going to argue with it.
"We played every week on the Enterprise, both of them."
Toreth tosses in three hundred, bankrupting Emor and leaving it between her and Beverly's three tens.
"Picard?"
"After a while. Will Riker and Deanna Troi usually beat me."
"I met Riker officially on his visit to Romulus after the Empress was crowned. We did not, unfortunately, get to play poker."
Beverly raises the bet to five hundred, drawing two sixes, which gives her a solid full house. It could be higher, but it's enough to risk a friendly game on.
Toreth counts her chips, then shoves them all forward. "Six hundred eighty."
Beverly tosses in a few more stacks and waits for Toreth to show her hand. Three kings. She cheers and drops her own cards to the table.
Toreth eyes them and shakes her head. "I concede."
"Practice playing your crew and you'll get me next time."
"I do like a challenge."
Beverly gathers the cards and shuffles them back as Toreth sorts the chips. Kathryn's stopped flirting with sleep and is lost, judging by the slow sound of her breathing.
"You wouldn't let her leave to meet with me."
"No."
"As her doctor or her wife?"
"Wife, mostly." Beverly smiles across the table. "Does that change your opinion of Starfleet?"
"It's sweet. I still have to think you're all soft hearted, overly ponderous do-gooders."
"While you're a coldly calculating part of a great Romulan machine-state."
"Exactly." Toreth finishes the last of her drink. "Though it didn't help me with cards."
"I had a good hand."
"You did." Toreth lingers, eyes on Kathryn. "You have a good hand here in more ways than one."
"Romulans fall in love too?"
Toreth's smile has a secretive light to it. "We do, from time to time. Remind me to send you more books."
"We'll try to find you a cat."
Sitting back in the booth, Toreth looks over the nearly quiet bar and watches the two Andorians settle the last part of their pool game with a long, lazy kiss.
"I'd like that." She rests her head on her hand, taking everything in. "I've enjoyed this. Seeing how the Federation lives."
"Much like home?"
"My security officer falls asleep on his wife's shoulder just like your admiral has every time we stay up late, drinking after dinner. My science officer has five children and talks about them every chance he gets. He suggested the book, which I remembered reading as a child. I hope your child enjoys it."
"In my experience, anything with magical boxes and robots is a big hit with children."
Toreth plays with her hair, trying to tuck it behind her alien ears and frowning. "Good. Perhaps, someday, you'll let me show you my side of things."
"I've been told Romulus is beautiful."
"The most beautiful place I've been, but I have yet to see the rest of the universe, so I can hardly be fair."
Beverly kisses Kathryn's forehead, starting to nudge her awake so they can go to bed. "I like that."
"It's gotten me this far." Toreth shuts her eyes and listens to station around them. "Off the edge of the map in unfriendly territory."
Beverly chuckles. "Terribly unfriendly."
"Isn't it just?"
Kathryn rubs her eyes and frowns at Beverly. "Why do you let me fall asleep?"
"Because I love you."
"Right." Kathryn rolls her head along Beverly's shoulder and remembers their guest. "Sorry."
Toreth watches them both, quietly fascinated. "Don't apologise. You've ruined decades of anti-Federation propaganda by being the least dangerous people I've met."
Kathryn's reply is more yawn than giggle. "Ruins the enmity, doesn't it?"
"Consider mine ruined."
"Happy to help."
~ finis ~
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