Impossible Odds 05 - The Trill Candidate
Title: Log #1: Impossible Odds
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Star Trek - Voyager
Series: The Equinox Logs
Rating: 16+, for this part.
For disclaimer, background trivia, etc., see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
This particular chapter happens shortly before the 4th season TNG-episode “Reunion”. Arjin is the same person as Jadzia Dax’ trainee from the DS9 episode “Playing God”, of course. Frankly, I found him quite annoying. But that wasn’t the only reason to give him an appearance in this story. He’ll play a more important role later.
CHAPTER 5: THE TRILL CANDIDATE
Personal log of Lt. Cmdr. Rudolph Ransom.
Stardate: 44227.3
Life aboard the Aries has been not particularly exciting since we left Starbase 80 - we’ve done the usual basic scientific work: cartography missions, readings on radiation anomalies and other small tasks like those. It’ been a welcome change for most of the crew, who needed some recovery time after Wolf 329 badly.
We even returned to some joint efforts with civilian organizations, which had to be stopped for the time of fighting and regrouping. I’ve just met the young Trill candidate who’s come aboard for pilot training. He’s a civilian by the name of Arjin - I haven’t learned his family name yet. He’s a nice enough guy… maybe a little too eager to please, but knowing the hard competition among Trill candidates to even get into the training programme (which he hasn’t managed so far) that’s understandable. Lt. Solis says he’s got an instinctive talent for flying.
Trills are fascinating creatures. I hope I’ll learn more about their physiology and customs with Arjin’s help. Our database is not very forthcoming where Trills are considered.
On a more personal note, I’ve found a good colleague, a competent aide and maybe even a potential friend in my second, Lt. Vanderweg. We are on first name basis now, something I never had with my former colleagues, on any of my earlier assignments. But Greta is a delightful woman who could cheer up a rainy day, despite the fact that she misses her family greatly. She keeps telling me ridiculous stories about my Vulcan predecessor, Chu’lak - it seems they didn’t get along all too well. Greta never fails to point out that I, too, am almost Vulcan in my mannerism. Still, I think that the constant interaction with her has helped me to open up to other people a little.
Lt. Nella Darren is a different matter entirely. She’s a good scientist as far as I can tell (stellar cartography isn’t exactly my field of expertise, but her references are outstanding), and an amazing piano player. But there is something about her that makes me uncomfortable. Greta says it’s because she’s as stiff-mannered as I am, but I think there’s something more. I just don’t know what. I wish Max were here; he has an almost uncanny sense for judging people’s true character.
Dr. Luisa Kim, on the other hand, is another charming lady. She’s a civilian scientist, one of the ill-fated geology team members from Velara III(1). I believe that after years, she still has nightmares about what happened there. She’s quiet, withdrawn and rather beautiful, comes from an early Terran colony founded by Asian emigrants, back in the 22nd century. At first Greta tried to play matchmaker between the two of us, so I finally had to tell her about my sexual orientation before she managed to talk Dr. Kim into something that would never work. Why certain women always try to get their friends married is beyond me.
Nevertheless, Luisa, Greta and I have formed an easy friendship. We spend much of our off time together and have a lot of fun. I wonder where the tendency of surrounding myself with lovely women has come, all of a sudden. Can it bee that I seek out their company because they are safe? Because - unlike a certain male nurse at sickbay - they pose no temptation? As I’ve never been interested in female partners at all, I can’t follow Max’ example and ‘only cheat on him with women’. He is important to me, more important than I’d ever think, but can I honestly expect from myself to be alone until we can get together again?
This is ridiculous. Max and I have practically broken up; there’s no need for me to become chaste, now that we are on the opposite sides of the quadrant. Besides, I know Max doesn’t expect it from me - he’s made it clear enough that we have no obligations to each other. So, why do I feel vaguely guilty when I catch myself checking out the assets of Med. Tech. LeBonne? Because he doesn’t seem adverse?
He’s been sending me subtle signs of interest all the time. And I’ve never been the person grieving after a lost lover. And Jean-Pierre LeBonne is as handsome and exotic as only a man born from French and Betazoid parents can be. So, why am I still hesitating? As much as I miss Max - and I do - life goes on. Sooner or later, I’ll have to give in and seek another partner, even if only temporarily.
But I’m not that desperate yet. And a starship is a closed community. On a Starbase, one has enough anonymity to indulge in casual affairs. On a starship, one has to live with the consequences. So, for the time being, spending time with my charming lady friends is safer. I’m not alone, and I’m not tempted to become unfaithful.
Ransom out.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ransom glanced at his wrist chrono - a relict that most likely no other officer of the Fleet wore anymore - and realized with a start that unless he moved ready really fast, he’ll be late for his dinner appointment. Which would have been an unfortunate thing indeed, as this was the usual weekly dinner for the senior officers - and civilian guests - a t the captain’s table.
According to Commander Flaherty this was a brand new tradition aboard the Aries, introduced by Captain Rixx, who wanted to know his officers better. The former captain, a solitary Vulcan, had always eaten alone, or in the company of former science officer Chu’lak, in his personal dining room.
Rixx, on the other hand, seemed a more sociable creature. Not only had he most of his family on board, he also interacted with the crew on a personal level. The weekly dinners were served in the captain’s dining room, and civilian clothes were required - something that especially the female officers would greatly appreciate. Starfleet uniforms were practical, and even looked good on most people, but everyone welcomed the chance to show off a little.
Ransom didn’t really care about clothing orders. Hurriedly, he threw on some civvies and raced to the turbolift, regardless of such irrelevant things of dignity. When it came to punctual appearance at the captain’s table, dignity was overrated.
He reached the dining room just in time and sat down quietly next to the captain’s junior wife, a young Bolian science officer named Mitana Haro. Rixx’ co-husband, a petty officer by the name of Zim Brat, was a member of the Aries crew as well, while the fourth member of their clan marriage, the senior wife, remained on Bolius and raised the children. If Ransom had understood the snatches of information given to him by various officers, the matriarch of the clan was already beyond her fertile phase, and Bolian females usually lost all sexual interest after that. Males, on the other hand, were sexually active for a lot longer, which was the reason for the clan marriages, as the junior wife (or wives) came at a much younger age. The older females started their career after the fertile phase and were highly respected in society. Rixx senior wife was a member of the local administration and didn’t want to give up her work for being a mere family member on a starship.
Ransom found these differences between species and customs fascinating, and he’d found a kindred spirit in the newly assigned CMO of the Aries, Dr. Katherine Pulaski. Right now, the doctor was seated next to Moira O’Brien, talking in her usual, wry manner to Blake Argyle, the stocky, bearded chief engineer of the ship. On her other side the security chief, a big, muscular Zaldan named Rondon, glared onto his own plate as was his wont, still struggling to handle human-norm eating utensils with his large, webbed hands.
Zaldans descended from sea mammals and usually lived in a maritime environment. Ransom wondered sometimes, how they married to survive on starships at all. Whether they slept in the bath tube or whatnot. He knew Lt. Rondon had been a training officer of the Starfleet Academy training facility on Relva VII(2), but got drafted after Wolf 359m because of the severe lack of experienced officers all across the Fleet.
The heads of the various science departments were talking shop over the table, as usual, Lt. Darren dominating the conversation - as usual - while Greta Vanderweg and the Tiburonian scientist, T’Lor, made heroic efforts to show some interest. Neither of them was an astrophysicist, though, which made it a lot harder for them to endure Nella Darren’s monologue. Louisa Kim didn’t even attempt to listen. She could afford it, of course. She was a civilian, after all.
With other words, it was a perfectly normal Friday dinner at the captain’s table. With the exception of one extremely nervous young Trill, wearing a strangely asymmetric, oversized dark tunic and an almost panicked look on his face. Ransom couldn’t blame him. Being trapped between Ensign Rhiann O’Brien (Flaherty’s daughter, a promising botanist) and Counselor Shyana Uhnari (a young, but talented and intimidatingly beautiful Hahliian) could have made any man panic. Especially since neither woman hid her intense interest for the soft-faced young Trill.
The entire situation was even more complicated by the fact - known by Ransom but obviously not by the young ladies - that Arjin was not interested in women. To be more accurate, he was not interested in pursuing any relationship at all. His only interest was to become the best candidate for the Joining - which, as he had explained to Ransom on a purely scientific level, was so much more than any romantic involvement could offer.
For Arjin’s apparently naïve mind, it was so simple. When he became Joined, he’d merge completely, not with the symbiont alone, but also with all the memories and personality quirks of every former host. He’d become a new person entirely. And that new person would then make all of his important choices, bared on the vast experience of its former lives.
On a purely scientific level, this fascinated Ransom.
On the more personal level, it made him sick.
Such intimacy… Once Joined, never alone with one’s own feelings and thoughts… Always invaded by strange memories…
It would kill him in a week.
Fates, he wasn’t even able to allow Max close enough to share his feelings openly, and Max had meant more to him than anyone else before.
He’d discussed the Trill problem extensively with Dr. Pulaski. The CMO of the Aries was an intelligent, experienced woman - even though Ransom could not entirely understand her mistrust towards technology - who approached everything and everyone with a refreshing cynism and a healthy portion of dry humour. Ransom found her quite charming and understood perfectly well how all her ex-husbands remained friends with her. Their family reunions, featuring all those exes with their new partners, must have been quite… interesting events.
To Ransom’s surprise, Pulaski had no hopes for Arjin to ever become Joined.
“He tries very hard,” she commented with a certain amount of dismissive pity in her voice, “but he’s just not host material. To handle a centuries-old symbiont and the memories of half a dozen former host, one needs… spunk. The boy is such a bottom it’s not even funny. He’d break under the pressure in no time.”
Ransom still remembered choking on his synthale at that comment.
“He’s a… bottom?” he repeated. “In which way?”
“Well, Commander,” the doctor gave him a wryly amused look, “I don’t think I need to explain that to you, of all people. Even though I meant it figuratively. The boy has no spine. Or if he has one, it’s made of rubber. Which might come handy on the bottom, of course,” she added, musing over the logistics.
Being a rather laconic creature, Ransom rarely blushed. This had been one of these rare occasions - understandable, though. Hearing such rude words from someone who looked like a fine Southern lady, even in the 24th century, was quite shocking.
In that moment he finally understood how the doctor could get along with Lt. Rondon so excellently. Zaldans held politeness for a sign of dishonesty - Pulaski’s bluntness was probably highly valued by the security chief. Maybe Lt. Rondon would advance to Husband #4 one day. In theory, Zaldans and humans were compatible, and since procreation was hardly an issue for the good doctor any longer…
Ransom shook his head and tried to focus on Dr. Luisa Kim, who was seated opposite him on the other side of the table… with little effect. As much as he liked Dr. Kim, geophysics was not exactly his field of expertise either, and he didn’t understood half of what the dark-haired Asian beauty was saying.
Unfortunately enough, Dr. Kim noticed his lack of interest after a while.
“Am I boring you, Commander?” she asked, slightly insulted - and with right so. She was an intelligent and attractive woman, entitled to expect her dinner neighbour to pay attention. Especially if said dinner neighbour was a fellow scientist, whom she considered a friend.
“Not at all,” Ransom hurried to answer, more than a little ashamed. “It’s just… I was wondering if I should rescue poor Arjin from those very determined young ladies over there.”
Dr. Kim followed his gaze and smiled. Being a mature woman in her mid-thirties, she found the predatory instincts of the young girls (which Counselor Uhnari and Ensign O’Brien certainly were, compared with her) fairly amusing.
But she also felt some pity for the clearly terrified young Trill.
“I believe you should,” she said with twinkling eyes. “I’ll continue this conversation with Greta Vanderweg. She might even enjoy it. Her husband is a geopaleontologist, after all.”
Ashamed that he’d been found out, but relieved nevertheless, Ransom excused himself to launch the rescue action.
“Commander,” Luisa Kim’s voice stopped him, “You owe me one for that, you know. And I’m a woman who collects her debts.”
Ransom smiled. Even though his interests went in other directions, he found Dr. Kim absolutely lovely - as long as she wasn’t discussing the finer points of geophysics.
“What about dinner?” he asked. “Tomorrow, at 19.00?”
Luisa Kim nodded. “It’s a date. Now go and free that boy from the clutches of the young furies.”
Ransom laughed as he strolled around the table. The last part of the Captain’s Dinner, as it had become to known, was always a casual thing. People moved away from their usual places, mingling and chatting merrily. He found Arjin and his two female pursuers sitting on a small sofa, under the large viewport. The young Trill was positively squirming under the dual assault of female charms by now, and the look he shot at Ransom was nothing short desperate.
Honestly, Ransom could understand the young ladies. By any measure, Arjin was definitely pretty, with his long limbs and soft, oval face. So exotic with those dark spots adorning his temples and the sides of his graceful neck. I wonder if they are sensitive, Ransom mused, the database says the spots of Trills go all the way, down to the ankles. Arjin wore his dark hair a bit long, it would have reached his collar, had that ridiculously cut, asymmetric tunic a collar in the first place. Elegant, long-fingered hands and big, dark, soulful eyes completed the appealing picture.
Yes, the boy was pretty. A little too pretty for Ransom’s taste, and most likely rather inexperienced. No match for the determinate young ladies, and apparently unable to wind himself out of this situation, which - if his burning cheeks were any indication - he found thoroughly embarrassing.
“Ah, here you are, Arjin,” Ransom said lightly, as if discovering the young man just in that moment. “I was looking for you. Have you forgotten that we have an appointment tonight?”
The utter relief on Arjin’s soft face was almost comical. The young man was so surprised that he could barely produce a convincing reaction.
“We have?” he asked meekly. Ransom nodded.
“You’ve promised to help me with the correction of the xenobiology database. You know, the incomplete records about symbiont physiology…?”
“Oh, oh, yes, indeed,” Arjin stuttered. “I apologize, Commander. It seems that I.. I forgot to check my schedule for… for tonight…”
“So, do we still have that appointment or should we postpone it?” Ransom couldn’t resist to make him squirm a little. The boy should learn to stand up for himself. “If you’d prefer the company of the young ladies, I’d understand…”
“N-no, that’s quite all right, Commander,” Arjin all but jumped to his feet. “E-excuse us, Counselor… Ensign O’Brien… I… we really have to go. I’m sorry, Commander, I… I didn’t intend to set you up.”
The two young ladies seemed decidedly unhappy, but they both knew that counteracting a ranking officer wouldn’t be a good idea. Still, the glares that they shot at the retreating backs of his two men could have killed an Algorian mammoth from a hundred paces.
Ransom led the young man into his office. It was a spacious room, divided into a living and a working area, the former equipped with a small coffee table, a low sofa and two armchairs, the latter (which he had mistaken for the whole office when it was first shown to him) with a computerized desk, viewscreens embedded in the walls and a replicator unit. In a corner, a large terrarium stood, housing a pair of extremely rare Corvan gilvos, kept here for scientific observation.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Arjin collapsed on the sofa, without waiting for an invitation.
“T-thank you for rescuing me, Commander,” he said, literally sagging in relief. Ransom smiled.
“You are welcome,” then, with a smirk, he asked. “Not interested in women, or did you have another problem?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” now, out of harm’s way, Arjin seemed to calm down rather easily. He even stopped stuttering. “It’s more like ‘not interested in young, aggressive women’. The few affairs I’ve had so far were all with mature ladies… or men who were considerably older than I am,” he added, a speculative look in those suddenly not-quite-so innocent, dark eyes.
Ransom shook his head with a tolerant smile. The attempt had been a little clumsy, but honest, and under different circumstances he might even have been tempted by Arjin’s unspoken offer. The boy was pretty, after all, and obviously more than willing.
And that was exactly what killed his interest almost immediately. Experience told him that Arjin would be a week and submissive lover. He didn’t want meek and submissive in his bed. He had never been into those sorts of affairs, not even before Max. As a general rule, he preferred his partners closer to his own age, who knew what they were getting themselves into. Max had been the youngest lover he’d had for a very long time. But Max was a strong and feisty person who knew exactly what he wanted and could protect his own interests quite effectively.
Quite frankly, Max had spoiled him in that matter thoroughly, and right now, he didn’t really want anyone else. He knew, after a while he would get over Max and go on with his life, just as his young lover wanted him to do when severing their bond with surgical precision. It still hurt, but he’d come to realize that Max had been right. Again. Subspace relationships seldom worked out, and they surely would not between the two of them who couldn’t even admit their feelings to themselves.
Yes, one day he would look back at his time with Max with melancholy and a slight heartache, but nothing more. There was no use wallowing in self-pity over ‘what if’s. But right now, he was not so far yet. And the last thing he needed was to become the doting lover of an insecure young man who didn’t have the courage to make his own decisions.
Fates, he had even found Max too young. Compared with Max, Arjin was little more than a baby: a soft and pretty little thing, but immature and clinging like a leech. Besides, there had been something vaguely whorish in the boy’s offer that made Ransom uneasy.
“I think you are into power in the first place, Arjin,” he said, searching for the right word to make his point without hurting the young man’s feelings. “Older partners make you feel safer… more secure. But that is the false way, in the long run, even if it seems easier at the moment. You must learn to stand up for yourself, to make your own choices. You can’t lean on others all your life.”
To his relief, the young man didn’t seem hurt or insulted.
“I won’t need to do that any longer, once I get Joined,” Arjin replied with a shrug. “From that point on, the symbiont’s experiences and knowledge will guide me in all my decisions. Including finding my further way.”
“And what if the Symbiosis Commission doesn’t accept you?” Ransom asked seriously.
The young man dismissed the mere idea with an overly self-confident shrug.
“Oh, they will take me. My father knows a few people in the Commission, and they promised that I’ll be accepted. Unless I mess up my evaluation training with an older, joined Trill, of course, but that’s not very likely.”
Ransom had his doubts about the whole thing, but again, he was no Trill, so Arjin probably knew better how the procedure was usually handled. Still, the older man had the feeling that Arjin saw his own choices a little too optimistic. He’d met quite a few Trill scientists during his years in Starfleet, both joined and unjoined ones, and he always had the impression that among Trills, personal maturity was the first requirement to get any important assignments. He could imagine that it was tenfold the case when selecting a potential host.
Before he could make any comment, however, his doorbell rang, and - following his invitation - Captain Rixx entered his office.
That was a first. Rixx had never shown any scientific interests, and so far they had only socialized during the weekly dinners. Besides, it was way beyond Ransom’s duty shift, so the captain must have asked the computer about his locations - which, as far as he knew, was a first, too.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the tall, bony Bolian said after taking the offered seat.
“Nothing at all, Captain,” Ransom answered. “We’re just hiding after that risky little rescue action. You know the saying: ‘Hell hath no fury…’ “
“’Like a woman scorned’,” Rixx nodded, one of those wry little half-smiles on his hollow face. “I’m a married man, Commander, and my senior wife has a… formidable personality. We all love her dearly, but the peace of our family life is definitely improved by the current arrangement.”
“With her and the kids on Bolius and the other spouses here?” Ransom asked, just to be certain he understood it rightly. The captain nodded.
“We all need to find the living conditions that suit our peace of mind best,” he said. “But I didn’t come to discuss my family life with you, Commander.”
“No, I didn’t think so, sir,” Ransom said. “What is this about, then?”
“Just a minute,” Rixx turned to the young Trill. “I believe you are quite safe now, Arjin. If you’ll excuse us…”
“Of… of course, Captain,” with that, Arjin left, unsatisfied curiosity and reluctance clearly written in his face.
“Sounds serious,” Ransom commented. Captain Rixx shook his head.
“Not really, it isn’t. It’s a purely scientific issue. I just didn’t want that boy eavesdrop on our conversation. Nothing against him, but to me, he seems the ultimate opportunist. For a favour, he’d probably sell his soul.”
“Not his soul alone,” Ransom commented dryly. The Bolian raised a completely hairless eyebrow.
“Really? Well, I’m not surprised. Anyway, Commander, how would you feel about a little scientific mission on your own?”
Ransom shrugged. “Depends on the circumstances, Captain. As a rule, though, I like to work alone. What’s up?”
“We’ve just been ordered to set course for the Gamma Arigulon system. Have you ever heard about it?” Captain Rixx asked. Ransom shook his head.
“Not really. Of course, I’ve seen the name on star charts and so, but I’m first and foremost a xenobiologist, and there are no indigenous lifeforms, save certain sorts of bacteria that live in the lower atmosphere of a gas giant, so I never bothered to study that part of space. Why are we going there?”
“To rendezvous with the USS LaSalle,” Rixx said. “Apparently, they have discovered something unusual there - some anomalous radiation, if I understand correctly. Now, the LaSalle is a Deneva-class scout ship, without a science crew, so we’ll have to make routine scans or whatnot, until the Enterprise arrives and takes over for us.”
Ransom called up the star chart in question to check the coordinates - and frowned.
“Captain, this is dangerously close to the Klingon border. Will our presence not be interpreted as a provocation?”
“I hope not,” Rixx said. “Gamma Arigulon is clearly on our side of the Klingon Neutral Zone, and therefore Federation territory.”
“Such formalities have never hindered trigger-happy Klingon border guards to shoot at our ships, whenever they believed we were too close to their borders,” Ransom reminded him. “Besides, they’d want to know why we are interested in that system… and, most likely realize that they are interested in it, too. That sort of thing has happened frequently in the past.”
Rixx nodded. “I know. That’s why we won’t go in openly. The Aries will be doing regular border patrol, while you go in by shuttle craft and take those scans.”
“Captain, the Aries isn’t equipped for a confrontation, even if the Klingons would believe that a deep space research vessel would be sent to border patrol duty,” Ransom pointed out. Unexpectedly, the Bolian grinned at him.
“Well, in that case I suggest that you do your work quickly and efficiently, Commander,” he said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
(1) See the 1st season TNG-episode “Home Soil”.
(2) See the 1st season TNG-episode “Coming of Age”.
Chapter 6 - Cat-and-Mouse
Author: Soledad
Fandom: Star Trek - Voyager
Series: The Equinox Logs
Rating: 16+, for this part.
For disclaimer, background trivia, etc., see the secondary index page
Author’s notes:
This particular chapter happens shortly before the 4th season TNG-episode “Reunion”. Arjin is the same person as Jadzia Dax’ trainee from the DS9 episode “Playing God”, of course. Frankly, I found him quite annoying. But that wasn’t the only reason to give him an appearance in this story. He’ll play a more important role later.
CHAPTER 5: THE TRILL CANDIDATE
Personal log of Lt. Cmdr. Rudolph Ransom.
Stardate: 44227.3
Life aboard the Aries has been not particularly exciting since we left Starbase 80 - we’ve done the usual basic scientific work: cartography missions, readings on radiation anomalies and other small tasks like those. It’ been a welcome change for most of the crew, who needed some recovery time after Wolf 329 badly.
We even returned to some joint efforts with civilian organizations, which had to be stopped for the time of fighting and regrouping. I’ve just met the young Trill candidate who’s come aboard for pilot training. He’s a civilian by the name of Arjin - I haven’t learned his family name yet. He’s a nice enough guy… maybe a little too eager to please, but knowing the hard competition among Trill candidates to even get into the training programme (which he hasn’t managed so far) that’s understandable. Lt. Solis says he’s got an instinctive talent for flying.
Trills are fascinating creatures. I hope I’ll learn more about their physiology and customs with Arjin’s help. Our database is not very forthcoming where Trills are considered.
On a more personal note, I’ve found a good colleague, a competent aide and maybe even a potential friend in my second, Lt. Vanderweg. We are on first name basis now, something I never had with my former colleagues, on any of my earlier assignments. But Greta is a delightful woman who could cheer up a rainy day, despite the fact that she misses her family greatly. She keeps telling me ridiculous stories about my Vulcan predecessor, Chu’lak - it seems they didn’t get along all too well. Greta never fails to point out that I, too, am almost Vulcan in my mannerism. Still, I think that the constant interaction with her has helped me to open up to other people a little.
Lt. Nella Darren is a different matter entirely. She’s a good scientist as far as I can tell (stellar cartography isn’t exactly my field of expertise, but her references are outstanding), and an amazing piano player. But there is something about her that makes me uncomfortable. Greta says it’s because she’s as stiff-mannered as I am, but I think there’s something more. I just don’t know what. I wish Max were here; he has an almost uncanny sense for judging people’s true character.
Dr. Luisa Kim, on the other hand, is another charming lady. She’s a civilian scientist, one of the ill-fated geology team members from Velara III(1). I believe that after years, she still has nightmares about what happened there. She’s quiet, withdrawn and rather beautiful, comes from an early Terran colony founded by Asian emigrants, back in the 22nd century. At first Greta tried to play matchmaker between the two of us, so I finally had to tell her about my sexual orientation before she managed to talk Dr. Kim into something that would never work. Why certain women always try to get their friends married is beyond me.
Nevertheless, Luisa, Greta and I have formed an easy friendship. We spend much of our off time together and have a lot of fun. I wonder where the tendency of surrounding myself with lovely women has come, all of a sudden. Can it bee that I seek out their company because they are safe? Because - unlike a certain male nurse at sickbay - they pose no temptation? As I’ve never been interested in female partners at all, I can’t follow Max’ example and ‘only cheat on him with women’. He is important to me, more important than I’d ever think, but can I honestly expect from myself to be alone until we can get together again?
This is ridiculous. Max and I have practically broken up; there’s no need for me to become chaste, now that we are on the opposite sides of the quadrant. Besides, I know Max doesn’t expect it from me - he’s made it clear enough that we have no obligations to each other. So, why do I feel vaguely guilty when I catch myself checking out the assets of Med. Tech. LeBonne? Because he doesn’t seem adverse?
He’s been sending me subtle signs of interest all the time. And I’ve never been the person grieving after a lost lover. And Jean-Pierre LeBonne is as handsome and exotic as only a man born from French and Betazoid parents can be. So, why am I still hesitating? As much as I miss Max - and I do - life goes on. Sooner or later, I’ll have to give in and seek another partner, even if only temporarily.
But I’m not that desperate yet. And a starship is a closed community. On a Starbase, one has enough anonymity to indulge in casual affairs. On a starship, one has to live with the consequences. So, for the time being, spending time with my charming lady friends is safer. I’m not alone, and I’m not tempted to become unfaithful.
Ransom out.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Ransom glanced at his wrist chrono - a relict that most likely no other officer of the Fleet wore anymore - and realized with a start that unless he moved ready really fast, he’ll be late for his dinner appointment. Which would have been an unfortunate thing indeed, as this was the usual weekly dinner for the senior officers - and civilian guests - a t the captain’s table.
According to Commander Flaherty this was a brand new tradition aboard the Aries, introduced by Captain Rixx, who wanted to know his officers better. The former captain, a solitary Vulcan, had always eaten alone, or in the company of former science officer Chu’lak, in his personal dining room.
Rixx, on the other hand, seemed a more sociable creature. Not only had he most of his family on board, he also interacted with the crew on a personal level. The weekly dinners were served in the captain’s dining room, and civilian clothes were required - something that especially the female officers would greatly appreciate. Starfleet uniforms were practical, and even looked good on most people, but everyone welcomed the chance to show off a little.
Ransom didn’t really care about clothing orders. Hurriedly, he threw on some civvies and raced to the turbolift, regardless of such irrelevant things of dignity. When it came to punctual appearance at the captain’s table, dignity was overrated.
He reached the dining room just in time and sat down quietly next to the captain’s junior wife, a young Bolian science officer named Mitana Haro. Rixx’ co-husband, a petty officer by the name of Zim Brat, was a member of the Aries crew as well, while the fourth member of their clan marriage, the senior wife, remained on Bolius and raised the children. If Ransom had understood the snatches of information given to him by various officers, the matriarch of the clan was already beyond her fertile phase, and Bolian females usually lost all sexual interest after that. Males, on the other hand, were sexually active for a lot longer, which was the reason for the clan marriages, as the junior wife (or wives) came at a much younger age. The older females started their career after the fertile phase and were highly respected in society. Rixx senior wife was a member of the local administration and didn’t want to give up her work for being a mere family member on a starship.
Ransom found these differences between species and customs fascinating, and he’d found a kindred spirit in the newly assigned CMO of the Aries, Dr. Katherine Pulaski. Right now, the doctor was seated next to Moira O’Brien, talking in her usual, wry manner to Blake Argyle, the stocky, bearded chief engineer of the ship. On her other side the security chief, a big, muscular Zaldan named Rondon, glared onto his own plate as was his wont, still struggling to handle human-norm eating utensils with his large, webbed hands.
Zaldans descended from sea mammals and usually lived in a maritime environment. Ransom wondered sometimes, how they married to survive on starships at all. Whether they slept in the bath tube or whatnot. He knew Lt. Rondon had been a training officer of the Starfleet Academy training facility on Relva VII(2), but got drafted after Wolf 359m because of the severe lack of experienced officers all across the Fleet.
The heads of the various science departments were talking shop over the table, as usual, Lt. Darren dominating the conversation - as usual - while Greta Vanderweg and the Tiburonian scientist, T’Lor, made heroic efforts to show some interest. Neither of them was an astrophysicist, though, which made it a lot harder for them to endure Nella Darren’s monologue. Louisa Kim didn’t even attempt to listen. She could afford it, of course. She was a civilian, after all.
With other words, it was a perfectly normal Friday dinner at the captain’s table. With the exception of one extremely nervous young Trill, wearing a strangely asymmetric, oversized dark tunic and an almost panicked look on his face. Ransom couldn’t blame him. Being trapped between Ensign Rhiann O’Brien (Flaherty’s daughter, a promising botanist) and Counselor Shyana Uhnari (a young, but talented and intimidatingly beautiful Hahliian) could have made any man panic. Especially since neither woman hid her intense interest for the soft-faced young Trill.
The entire situation was even more complicated by the fact - known by Ransom but obviously not by the young ladies - that Arjin was not interested in women. To be more accurate, he was not interested in pursuing any relationship at all. His only interest was to become the best candidate for the Joining - which, as he had explained to Ransom on a purely scientific level, was so much more than any romantic involvement could offer.
For Arjin’s apparently naïve mind, it was so simple. When he became Joined, he’d merge completely, not with the symbiont alone, but also with all the memories and personality quirks of every former host. He’d become a new person entirely. And that new person would then make all of his important choices, bared on the vast experience of its former lives.
On a purely scientific level, this fascinated Ransom.
On the more personal level, it made him sick.
Such intimacy… Once Joined, never alone with one’s own feelings and thoughts… Always invaded by strange memories…
It would kill him in a week.
Fates, he wasn’t even able to allow Max close enough to share his feelings openly, and Max had meant more to him than anyone else before.
He’d discussed the Trill problem extensively with Dr. Pulaski. The CMO of the Aries was an intelligent, experienced woman - even though Ransom could not entirely understand her mistrust towards technology - who approached everything and everyone with a refreshing cynism and a healthy portion of dry humour. Ransom found her quite charming and understood perfectly well how all her ex-husbands remained friends with her. Their family reunions, featuring all those exes with their new partners, must have been quite… interesting events.
To Ransom’s surprise, Pulaski had no hopes for Arjin to ever become Joined.
“He tries very hard,” she commented with a certain amount of dismissive pity in her voice, “but he’s just not host material. To handle a centuries-old symbiont and the memories of half a dozen former host, one needs… spunk. The boy is such a bottom it’s not even funny. He’d break under the pressure in no time.”
Ransom still remembered choking on his synthale at that comment.
“He’s a… bottom?” he repeated. “In which way?”
“Well, Commander,” the doctor gave him a wryly amused look, “I don’t think I need to explain that to you, of all people. Even though I meant it figuratively. The boy has no spine. Or if he has one, it’s made of rubber. Which might come handy on the bottom, of course,” she added, musing over the logistics.
Being a rather laconic creature, Ransom rarely blushed. This had been one of these rare occasions - understandable, though. Hearing such rude words from someone who looked like a fine Southern lady, even in the 24th century, was quite shocking.
In that moment he finally understood how the doctor could get along with Lt. Rondon so excellently. Zaldans held politeness for a sign of dishonesty - Pulaski’s bluntness was probably highly valued by the security chief. Maybe Lt. Rondon would advance to Husband #4 one day. In theory, Zaldans and humans were compatible, and since procreation was hardly an issue for the good doctor any longer…
Ransom shook his head and tried to focus on Dr. Luisa Kim, who was seated opposite him on the other side of the table… with little effect. As much as he liked Dr. Kim, geophysics was not exactly his field of expertise either, and he didn’t understood half of what the dark-haired Asian beauty was saying.
Unfortunately enough, Dr. Kim noticed his lack of interest after a while.
“Am I boring you, Commander?” she asked, slightly insulted - and with right so. She was an intelligent and attractive woman, entitled to expect her dinner neighbour to pay attention. Especially if said dinner neighbour was a fellow scientist, whom she considered a friend.
“Not at all,” Ransom hurried to answer, more than a little ashamed. “It’s just… I was wondering if I should rescue poor Arjin from those very determined young ladies over there.”
Dr. Kim followed his gaze and smiled. Being a mature woman in her mid-thirties, she found the predatory instincts of the young girls (which Counselor Uhnari and Ensign O’Brien certainly were, compared with her) fairly amusing.
But she also felt some pity for the clearly terrified young Trill.
“I believe you should,” she said with twinkling eyes. “I’ll continue this conversation with Greta Vanderweg. She might even enjoy it. Her husband is a geopaleontologist, after all.”
Ashamed that he’d been found out, but relieved nevertheless, Ransom excused himself to launch the rescue action.
“Commander,” Luisa Kim’s voice stopped him, “You owe me one for that, you know. And I’m a woman who collects her debts.”
Ransom smiled. Even though his interests went in other directions, he found Dr. Kim absolutely lovely - as long as she wasn’t discussing the finer points of geophysics.
“What about dinner?” he asked. “Tomorrow, at 19.00?”
Luisa Kim nodded. “It’s a date. Now go and free that boy from the clutches of the young furies.”
Ransom laughed as he strolled around the table. The last part of the Captain’s Dinner, as it had become to known, was always a casual thing. People moved away from their usual places, mingling and chatting merrily. He found Arjin and his two female pursuers sitting on a small sofa, under the large viewport. The young Trill was positively squirming under the dual assault of female charms by now, and the look he shot at Ransom was nothing short desperate.
Honestly, Ransom could understand the young ladies. By any measure, Arjin was definitely pretty, with his long limbs and soft, oval face. So exotic with those dark spots adorning his temples and the sides of his graceful neck. I wonder if they are sensitive, Ransom mused, the database says the spots of Trills go all the way, down to the ankles. Arjin wore his dark hair a bit long, it would have reached his collar, had that ridiculously cut, asymmetric tunic a collar in the first place. Elegant, long-fingered hands and big, dark, soulful eyes completed the appealing picture.
Yes, the boy was pretty. A little too pretty for Ransom’s taste, and most likely rather inexperienced. No match for the determinate young ladies, and apparently unable to wind himself out of this situation, which - if his burning cheeks were any indication - he found thoroughly embarrassing.
“Ah, here you are, Arjin,” Ransom said lightly, as if discovering the young man just in that moment. “I was looking for you. Have you forgotten that we have an appointment tonight?”
The utter relief on Arjin’s soft face was almost comical. The young man was so surprised that he could barely produce a convincing reaction.
“We have?” he asked meekly. Ransom nodded.
“You’ve promised to help me with the correction of the xenobiology database. You know, the incomplete records about symbiont physiology…?”
“Oh, oh, yes, indeed,” Arjin stuttered. “I apologize, Commander. It seems that I.. I forgot to check my schedule for… for tonight…”
“So, do we still have that appointment or should we postpone it?” Ransom couldn’t resist to make him squirm a little. The boy should learn to stand up for himself. “If you’d prefer the company of the young ladies, I’d understand…”
“N-no, that’s quite all right, Commander,” Arjin all but jumped to his feet. “E-excuse us, Counselor… Ensign O’Brien… I… we really have to go. I’m sorry, Commander, I… I didn’t intend to set you up.”
The two young ladies seemed decidedly unhappy, but they both knew that counteracting a ranking officer wouldn’t be a good idea. Still, the glares that they shot at the retreating backs of his two men could have killed an Algorian mammoth from a hundred paces.
Ransom led the young man into his office. It was a spacious room, divided into a living and a working area, the former equipped with a small coffee table, a low sofa and two armchairs, the latter (which he had mistaken for the whole office when it was first shown to him) with a computerized desk, viewscreens embedded in the walls and a replicator unit. In a corner, a large terrarium stood, housing a pair of extremely rare Corvan gilvos, kept here for scientific observation.
As soon as the door closed behind them, Arjin collapsed on the sofa, without waiting for an invitation.
“T-thank you for rescuing me, Commander,” he said, literally sagging in relief. Ransom smiled.
“You are welcome,” then, with a smirk, he asked. “Not interested in women, or did you have another problem?”
“I wouldn’t say that,” now, out of harm’s way, Arjin seemed to calm down rather easily. He even stopped stuttering. “It’s more like ‘not interested in young, aggressive women’. The few affairs I’ve had so far were all with mature ladies… or men who were considerably older than I am,” he added, a speculative look in those suddenly not-quite-so innocent, dark eyes.
Ransom shook his head with a tolerant smile. The attempt had been a little clumsy, but honest, and under different circumstances he might even have been tempted by Arjin’s unspoken offer. The boy was pretty, after all, and obviously more than willing.
And that was exactly what killed his interest almost immediately. Experience told him that Arjin would be a week and submissive lover. He didn’t want meek and submissive in his bed. He had never been into those sorts of affairs, not even before Max. As a general rule, he preferred his partners closer to his own age, who knew what they were getting themselves into. Max had been the youngest lover he’d had for a very long time. But Max was a strong and feisty person who knew exactly what he wanted and could protect his own interests quite effectively.
Quite frankly, Max had spoiled him in that matter thoroughly, and right now, he didn’t really want anyone else. He knew, after a while he would get over Max and go on with his life, just as his young lover wanted him to do when severing their bond with surgical precision. It still hurt, but he’d come to realize that Max had been right. Again. Subspace relationships seldom worked out, and they surely would not between the two of them who couldn’t even admit their feelings to themselves.
Yes, one day he would look back at his time with Max with melancholy and a slight heartache, but nothing more. There was no use wallowing in self-pity over ‘what if’s. But right now, he was not so far yet. And the last thing he needed was to become the doting lover of an insecure young man who didn’t have the courage to make his own decisions.
Fates, he had even found Max too young. Compared with Max, Arjin was little more than a baby: a soft and pretty little thing, but immature and clinging like a leech. Besides, there had been something vaguely whorish in the boy’s offer that made Ransom uneasy.
“I think you are into power in the first place, Arjin,” he said, searching for the right word to make his point without hurting the young man’s feelings. “Older partners make you feel safer… more secure. But that is the false way, in the long run, even if it seems easier at the moment. You must learn to stand up for yourself, to make your own choices. You can’t lean on others all your life.”
To his relief, the young man didn’t seem hurt or insulted.
“I won’t need to do that any longer, once I get Joined,” Arjin replied with a shrug. “From that point on, the symbiont’s experiences and knowledge will guide me in all my decisions. Including finding my further way.”
“And what if the Symbiosis Commission doesn’t accept you?” Ransom asked seriously.
The young man dismissed the mere idea with an overly self-confident shrug.
“Oh, they will take me. My father knows a few people in the Commission, and they promised that I’ll be accepted. Unless I mess up my evaluation training with an older, joined Trill, of course, but that’s not very likely.”
Ransom had his doubts about the whole thing, but again, he was no Trill, so Arjin probably knew better how the procedure was usually handled. Still, the older man had the feeling that Arjin saw his own choices a little too optimistic. He’d met quite a few Trill scientists during his years in Starfleet, both joined and unjoined ones, and he always had the impression that among Trills, personal maturity was the first requirement to get any important assignments. He could imagine that it was tenfold the case when selecting a potential host.
Before he could make any comment, however, his doorbell rang, and - following his invitation - Captain Rixx entered his office.
That was a first. Rixx had never shown any scientific interests, and so far they had only socialized during the weekly dinners. Besides, it was way beyond Ransom’s duty shift, so the captain must have asked the computer about his locations - which, as far as he knew, was a first, too.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” the tall, bony Bolian said after taking the offered seat.
“Nothing at all, Captain,” Ransom answered. “We’re just hiding after that risky little rescue action. You know the saying: ‘Hell hath no fury…’ “
“’Like a woman scorned’,” Rixx nodded, one of those wry little half-smiles on his hollow face. “I’m a married man, Commander, and my senior wife has a… formidable personality. We all love her dearly, but the peace of our family life is definitely improved by the current arrangement.”
“With her and the kids on Bolius and the other spouses here?” Ransom asked, just to be certain he understood it rightly. The captain nodded.
“We all need to find the living conditions that suit our peace of mind best,” he said. “But I didn’t come to discuss my family life with you, Commander.”
“No, I didn’t think so, sir,” Ransom said. “What is this about, then?”
“Just a minute,” Rixx turned to the young Trill. “I believe you are quite safe now, Arjin. If you’ll excuse us…”
“Of… of course, Captain,” with that, Arjin left, unsatisfied curiosity and reluctance clearly written in his face.
“Sounds serious,” Ransom commented. Captain Rixx shook his head.
“Not really, it isn’t. It’s a purely scientific issue. I just didn’t want that boy eavesdrop on our conversation. Nothing against him, but to me, he seems the ultimate opportunist. For a favour, he’d probably sell his soul.”
“Not his soul alone,” Ransom commented dryly. The Bolian raised a completely hairless eyebrow.
“Really? Well, I’m not surprised. Anyway, Commander, how would you feel about a little scientific mission on your own?”
Ransom shrugged. “Depends on the circumstances, Captain. As a rule, though, I like to work alone. What’s up?”
“We’ve just been ordered to set course for the Gamma Arigulon system. Have you ever heard about it?” Captain Rixx asked. Ransom shook his head.
“Not really. Of course, I’ve seen the name on star charts and so, but I’m first and foremost a xenobiologist, and there are no indigenous lifeforms, save certain sorts of bacteria that live in the lower atmosphere of a gas giant, so I never bothered to study that part of space. Why are we going there?”
“To rendezvous with the USS LaSalle,” Rixx said. “Apparently, they have discovered something unusual there - some anomalous radiation, if I understand correctly. Now, the LaSalle is a Deneva-class scout ship, without a science crew, so we’ll have to make routine scans or whatnot, until the Enterprise arrives and takes over for us.”
Ransom called up the star chart in question to check the coordinates - and frowned.
“Captain, this is dangerously close to the Klingon border. Will our presence not be interpreted as a provocation?”
“I hope not,” Rixx said. “Gamma Arigulon is clearly on our side of the Klingon Neutral Zone, and therefore Federation territory.”
“Such formalities have never hindered trigger-happy Klingon border guards to shoot at our ships, whenever they believed we were too close to their borders,” Ransom reminded him. “Besides, they’d want to know why we are interested in that system… and, most likely realize that they are interested in it, too. That sort of thing has happened frequently in the past.”
Rixx nodded. “I know. That’s why we won’t go in openly. The Aries will be doing regular border patrol, while you go in by shuttle craft and take those scans.”
“Captain, the Aries isn’t equipped for a confrontation, even if the Klingons would believe that a deep space research vessel would be sent to border patrol duty,” Ransom pointed out. Unexpectedly, the Bolian grinned at him.
“Well, in that case I suggest that you do your work quickly and efficiently, Commander,” he said.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
End notes:
(1) See the 1st season TNG-episode “Home Soil”.
(2) See the 1st season TNG-episode “Coming of Age”.
Chapter 6 - Cat-and-Mouse