The Masked Ball

Idrissa Senghor sat at the ball feeling a little shy and overwhelmed.  Her dress has enough fabric in it to make five of her usual wraps .. but for her first ever ball anywhere, she wanted to shine!  SInce arriving, she and Hars had stood for a bit, but in time had needed to sit.  His poor legs.  But she had sat next to him and enjoyed watching everyone else.  Inside, she was happy because she was nervous, but she suspected that Hars … was feeling something else and she hoped it wasn’t inadequacy for not being able to dance with her.  As she has the thought, a young man walks up.  She is a bit better than she was at reading ranks and this one was a LTjg.  He smiles at her and asks her to dance.  Politely she declines, explaining that she is engaged.  He nods and walks off and she glances at Hars ….

Hars sits on one of the decorative couches, Driss at his side. The walk here with her, at sunset, had been wonderful. Hand in hand, dressed to the nines, they had slowly made their way through the gardens and paths until they reached the gleaming Officer’s Mess. The main room was filled with streamers and balloons, hanging masks. The music was pleasant as they entered and were greeted by several people who knew Driss from her Cafe, and him by association. He’d always been rather quiet, and since losing his ship, had kept to himself a great deal. Although the scene was lovely and Driss so beautiful and glowing, he had been forced to whisper to her that he needed to sit down. Perhaps they should have beamed over instead of walking. He’d felt so good when donning his Mess Dress uniform. Perhaps it was the heavy sword at his side that had thrown off his balance. He regretted not choosing to wear a tuxedo instead, no matter what Po would have said.

Hars cast his eyes around the crowd, seeking for her. She barely spoke to him these days, something he profoundly regrets, but in mulling over the situation he can’t see how he could have behaved any differently than he did. He thought it highly unreasonable of her to be jealous of him and Driss when she was so clearly involved with Souleymane.  A young officer comes up to them, smiling at them both but mostly at Driss. She declines politely and the boy nods and moves away. Hars turns to Driss, “You should dance, mo choi, you look so stunning this evening and the music is wonderful. I want you to enjoy yourself.” He will squeeze her hand lightly as he whispers to her.

Nico stands on the outer edge of the dance floor, watching the dancers.  He’s trying to remember why he agreed to come to this damnable event.  Social interaction was not his strong suit.  The Diplomatic Corps would pay good latinum to keep him as far away from them as possible.  But he was here … and he was effectively on a date … with Arroz ….  something he had never done in his entire adult life.  They used to call it the closet.

He glanced at Arroz, who still seemed both amazed and angry that his tuxedo, which had been pristine when they had left the house, now looked like Nico had taken a nap in it.  But that just seemed to be how clothes worked on his body ……

Arroz leans, broad shouldered and taciturn, against the wall behind Nico. He’s confused and his inability to sort out what to do and how to be makes him quiet. His annoyance with Nico, who looks so disheveled, grows. What the hell are they doing here? He watches the couples swing by them, mostly male and female as is standard on Astra, but here and there, a female female or a male male. He is surprised to see two J'naii there. They have such distaste for gender associated activity, viewing it as distasteful and primitive.  In a way, he envies them. Although Starfleet adheres to the Vulcan philosophy of IDIC, not every member planet of the Federation believed the same. They had to show tolerance of differences in order to join, but that didn’t stop those in the population who believed differently from making their views known. The J’naii are dressed so plainly that they attract attention at this overdressed masquerade ball. He sees Opal come in on the arm of Girpoz Stleew, the Beryl Supervisor. She’s got a huge headdress that makes her look like a Sabre-tooth tiger with a fruit hat. He makes a noise in his throat. Detaching himself from the wall, he moves to Nico and says bluntly, “Let’s dance, dammit.”

Driss squeezes Hars’s hand back.  “With him?”  she asks, as if she honestly thinks she would do it.  “I’d rather drink replicated tea.”  she snorts softly.  But she turns to him and watches as he sits.  Even sitting he was cutting a fine and dignified figure.  “I have a dance partner, thank you very much.”  she huffs.  Lifting his hand she rests her cheek on it.  “It’s all so beautiful … the decorations are glowing and it’s … like magic.  But I think without you, I’d rather be home with Fuku and Aki.”  she tries to keep her voice serious.  “Besides, the songs are too fast.  I would feel silly stamping around the floor as if it were on fire.”  leaning into him, she kisses his cheek.  “But we must find a way for us to dance while I am standing and you are sitting … or while I am sitting in your lap.”  she proclaims.  “I know there must be a way ….. and if there isn’t I will make one up!”  she proclaims with a nod.

Nico glances to his right when Arroz approaches him.  He had been looking at the fruit on Opal’s head and wondering if it had rotted just being in her presence before he realized it was probably fake.  But Arroz’s voice reaches him and for a moment all he can do is stare.  While he can see the female and female couples, as well as the male and male one, he has never ….  he opens his mouth and then shuts it.  “I …. don’t do … this … well … fast … well … music …. “  he stammers.  “I’m ….  too old.”  he offers as excuse.  “This is for … younger … well …  Arroz.  Besides ….  you want me to dance with you, you might not want it to sound like you’d rather have a tooth extracted by that low tech doctor on N’Doto.”  he huffs, honestly indignant at the way he was asked.  Below the filth was a romantic heart.  “  If you could ask me like you really wanted to, I would love to …..  I would.  You know that, right?”  he pleads.  “But  I’m not cut out for … this … “  he motions onto the floor and spots his former boss, Commander Litac, who arches both of his eyebrows in disapproval.  Nico tries to ignore him.  “If they ever play any slow music, of course I would dance with you in a heartbeat ….”

Hars smiles to Driss. How sweetly she declined to dance with anyone else, and although he is sure she is disappointed, his heart can’t help but be happy that she has eyes only for him. She is so young in his eyes, and yet he is totally aware of her dark and tragic past, how much she has tried to hold herself together and survive in the face of adversity.  He is thrilled he has met her, and that she cares for him so much. He hopes he can live up to her dreams. His brow furrows slightly as he thinks of their picnic a few days back, with Fuku and the dog. He has to admit, he found the child exhausting. She was so active, always moving, and the playful mutt had almost thrown him off balance more than once. It made him wonder if he was cut out to be a father. He looks down at Driss, as she makes a joke of dancing with him, and his heart beats faster, a mix of sadness and joy. How he wishes he was a healthy man, he’d lift her up and swing her around with the rest of them and come home to her and their five children after landscaping the grounds to eat one of her delicious suppers and then make slow, easy, tender love as Questi rose to shine silver down on their happy home.  His lips twist wryly. “If they play something slower, and I take off this ridiculous sword, we will trip the light fantastic,” he promises.

Driss smiles as he promises her a dance … if there is slower music.  If it weren’t for Hars and the fact that she knew most here, she thought that she would really have stayed home.  The planet seemed to be full of disaster in the last several weeks.  What happened with Treman couldn’t really be considered an Astra disaster, she thought, but she did not understand the military mind and how it would all affect the planet.  But the fire … and then that horrible thing at the hospital.  Hars had explained that the planet was now on high alert, and that this dance, which had already been planned had not been cancelled despite the security status of the colony.  The logic was that the ball would be a welcome distraction, and those who agreed were apparently here … while those afraid of an attack stayed away.  She and Hars had come to support the planet … which had become Driss’s home.  Here, she had found a home and friends .. and Hars.  Love was the last thing she had expected to find, yet here he was.  She thought of this as she leaned in and whispered.  “I’ll be right back.”  and she moved to where the music was being played.  She stood, shyly by, but she was recognised and was asked what she needed.  Driss told them, then moved back to Hars, standing before him until the song stopped.  A moment later, the announcer said “This song if for the lovers with us tonight…”  and a slow song began to play.  Smiling at Hars, she looked at him.  “We could dance right here.”  she suggested.  “You wouldn’t even have to stand, beloved ….”

Arroz stands brooding at Nico’s side. He’s not sure why they came at all. Neither of them are enamoured of Starfleet, and both dismissed the wearing of Mess Dress and wore the optional tuxedo. He’s aware of the hopeful glances from different females in the room. A fellow Security officer, dressed in an odd sort of gown he supposes she thinks is pretty. With her hair piled on her head it almost looks like a Terran pineapple with a straw stuck in it, moving to music. Opal looked suggestively at him more than once. A little Ops officer he knew, stiff in her new Mess Dress, standing back from the dancers, and alone. There were probably fewer Starfleet here than normal, given the situation on the station and at the MCH. Both were damaged a week ago by what appeared to be unrelated issues, but the Colony Commander had raised the alert level.  These two occurrences, along with the Beryl Fire, had brought them to DefStat two. Nico wasn’t very happy with him and refused to dance with him because he hadn’t asked nicely enough. Probably just didn’t want to out them. He shook his head. “Fuck if I know why we’re here,” he grumbled over the music.

Nico watched the young women watching them … well watching Arroz, at any rate.  His heart pounded so hard and loud, he thought it could be heard by Arroz and anyone else within ten meters of them.  But over them, he heard Arroz ask why they were even here.  Lifting his hand, feeling his pulse in his fingers, he touched Arroz’s shoulder.  “Because I figured you would want to be here.  Socialize.  I’m the hermit.  You’re the young, social butterfly.”  he tells him and he swallows.  Around him, the music stops and he waits …. seconds later, a slow song begins.  He leans in slightly.  “But I am here for you.”  he murmurs over the opening bars of the song.  “Arroz, I have never in my LIFE, danced with another man in public.  Never been SEEN with another man in public.  But ….”  he takes half a step back, inhales deeply, and offers his hand to Arroz.  “May I have this dance, Arroz?”  he asks.  The sound of his heart is loud in his ears, and he fears … no … if Arroz takes his hand, the Earth cat will be out of the Earth bag.  He was ready .. for this young man … but was the young man ready for this?

Hars watched Driss move away, assuming she was going to the Ladies Dressing Room to freshen up, he looked around the room, noting some of the more colourful costumes. It occurs to him perhaps one reason why he can’t see Po is that she is wearing some kind of a getup.  He begins instead to look for Souley but the crowd is too thick. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a glimpse of his girl moving back towards him.  The music changes, and she looks down at him, suggesting they dance as they are. He shakes his head to her, reaching for his belt and removing it, letting the heavy saber fall onto the couch. He’s sure he’s a kilo lighter without it.  He gets up carefully and finds his feet steady.  He would brush her forehead with his lips as he draws her into his arms, and they begin to move, very slowly, onto the floor. “Practicing for our wedding dance,” he tells her. She is warm and soft. His arms would tighten just a little more, wanting her near.

His eyes on the young OPs officer, who is clearly uncomfortably wishing she was anywhere else, Arroz is tempted to go and at least talk to her. He knows what it’s like to be the new one. But he is aware of Nico at his side. Normally at an event like this he’d be making the rounds, chatting to friends, bitching about his chief, making fun of the senior officers, and enticing the Astra girls to ask him to dance, just because he could. Is this how it’s going to be? Never wading in the stream together, always standing on the opposite side from one another, the meter between them stretching like a light year. Maybe it would be that way with anyone. He’s not used to being tied down. Starfleet has him chained enough that he frets to be free. Nico tells him he’s a social butterfly, he shrugs. “There’s a million opportunities to socialize,” he responds. Nico’s words go on, telling him how special he is, that together they will make a statement. He hesitates. Once he does this, everyone will know. In the past weeks he’s come to feel that love should be genderless. That humanoids cling to male and femaleness as though it’s something that defines them down to the DNA. But the J'naii remind him there is another way. Hell. The parents will just have to understand there will be no grandbabies. At least not the old fashioned way. Opal swivels her face to look at him, smiling seductively behind her tiger mask and fruit hat. She drops the mask to let him see her eyes. Arroz smiles in his dark and sexy way, nodding to her. She grins wider.  Then he takes Nico’s hand, and swings him onto the floor. Her face morphs into a look of stunned surprise. He gracefully takes the lead, one hand on Nico’s waist, moving in time to the traditional Astra Sunrise waltz.

Driss smiles as Hars removes his belt, leaving his sword behind.  As he leads her out onto the dance floor, she is already looking at his face, and the feel of his lips on her forehead only secures her to him more.  Each of his touches seem to.  She allows him to draw her as close as he would like and she moves slowly with him, her steps uncertain … not only is this her first ball … it is her first dance … the dances at her first wedding were nothing like this .. slow and sweet.  Looking up at him as he speaks, she smiles.  “Our wedding ….”  she whispers, as if still unable to believe it.  “I must learn what to do and how to be.”  she snuggles into him a bit.  Dancing seems very simple and she is grateful for that.  “Am I doing it right?”  her voice is uncertain and a giggle escapes her.  “How many times will I ask that question before we wake the morning after we wed?”  she wonders, her heart tensing slightly about that night …. the first night … as his wife...

When Arroz takes his hand, Nico suppresses his sigh of relief.  They move onto the dance floor and the younger man takes the lead.  Pointedly, he focuses on his young dance partner.  He almost fears what he will see if he looks around, and so he refuses.  But even as he quashes the thoughts, he asks himself what does it matter?  What if he is interested in this young man?  And the young man, in turn is interested in him?  Somewhere in his head, he hears accepting voices, then his father’s voice, which is far from accepting.  But as he dances, he relaxes slightly and he takes in a relaxing breath.  Then his thoughts turn on him again, but at least this time it is not about the fact that he is dancing publically with another man.  Now he considers their age.  Swallowing hard, he closes his eyes.  “If one doesn’t matter, Nicoli, why should the other?”  he murmurs and looks down very slightly into Arroz’s eyes, as he is the taller of them.  But now a new worry taunts him … the one that tells him that Arroz would be much happier with a man … in his own age range.

Hars looks down at Driss, shaking his head with a slight grin, “I hope not often. What to do is what you like to do, what you are inspired to do by your own heart and creativity. How to be is… be you, learn to know yourself without the expectations of others. Communicate, yes, express your thoughts and emotions, and agree to compromise, sometimes. But always from your own self, Driss. Do not try to think of what I want or how I want you to be.” His face is ernest, “Don’t change to please me. Please me by being yourself. Even if it makes me angry or irritated...” He tries to explain over the music and the sound of many voices. He gently moves her a few steps, guiding her by a swirling couple with long capes, having care she does not trip. He’d seen the slight worry in her eyes about the wedding night. He bends his head again, whispering in her ear, “I love you Idrissa Senhor.”

Arroz leads Nico through the steps of the dance, realizing it is probably awkward for him to be lead for what might be the first time. His hand on Nico’s back is firm. If the guy would just let go a bit, they would flow a little easier.   Somehow they must be in tune, for even as that thought crossed his mind, Nico relaxed. Although Arroz is slightly shorter, his elegant bearing draws many eyes. He begins to show off, now that Nico is following his lead so well. They cut quite a dash through the circling crowd. Several jealous female eyes follow them. As his instincts tell him the music is about to finish, he brings them back to their starting point with a final flourish. The traditional song ends, and everyone applauds politely, and he grins to Nico as he claps. His mood is lighter.

Idrissa looks up at him as they dance.  She watches his lips as he speaks to her.  “I can’t be anyone but me.”  she reminds him.  “Now that I am here, and established …”  she sighs and tries to move even closer as a couple wearing clothing that expanded, it seemed, to fill the room passed them.  “When I left Earth, the paradise I imagined was a little shop on Deep Space Nine … having quarters I could make like home, but better.  To find Souleymane and get him to live with me, where he could be safe.”  she places her cheek on his chest.  “Astraios is all of that and more.  A pretty house.  Souleymane settling down with a child and a family.  Not taking risks that could get him arrested or killed.”  she hugs them as they dance together.  “And you.”  she looks up at him.  “I love you, too Hars Darax.  You are my gift.”

Being led was not Nico’s favorite thing, and allowing Arroz to do it confirmed the feelings that had been increasing slowly over the weeks since he’d moved in with the young man.  Remembering his own youth, which to him feels like a thousand years ago, he smiles softly when his partner begins to show off a bit.  He isn’t sure if he is showing off how well they dance together when they never had before, or if he is showing off his man.  The smile increases a bit at the thought that Arroz would ever consider him ‘his man’.  When the dance ends and they are back to where they began, Nico claps with him.

“If I had known all of this, I wouldn’t have let you go so easily.”

Nico turned and found himself facing a man he had not seen in a very long time.  Eight years.  The man was about the same age as Nico, Trill, resplendent in full Mess Dress and smiling at him while also taking in Arroz.  But soon his attention was back on Nico.

“Reja?”  Nico knew he sounded surprised … and he was … “It’s been years ….”  he accepted the hug automatically.  It was the quick kiss that took him by surprise.  He pulled his head back, obviously taken aback by it.  Clearing his throat, he tried to dispel the awkwardness he felt.  “Reja Pavun, I’d like you to meet Arroz Arum.”  he stopped there, not sure what to call Arroz anymore.  Friend?  Roommate?  Man who is becoming more dear to me than anyone before him, including you?  So he played it safe and just stopped talking, looking at Arroz, curious to how he would take meeting one of his exes …

Hars lets the night take him away, for a time it’s like they are dancing on a cloud and he has no pain. He smiles and whispers, “Where would I be without you, A chuisle mo chroí? How lucky can one man be, to meet the girl he could only dream of, on a planet so far away from where they were both born?  If you told me this story, I wouldna believe it,” he squeezes her hand warmly as they dance, hoping the music will go on for a few minutes more.

Idrissa nods into his chest.  “It is like a dream, isn’t it?”  she bites the corner of her lip.  “So wonderful. Maybe I am too simple of my mint … but for me, this is as close as it gets to an ideal life for me.”  looking up at him, she nods a bit.  “A new life begins with pain … and it took pains for both of us to come to this place in our lives that we could meet, and fall in love.”  for her it is just that simple and, as the song ends, she stops and sighs.  “And this night for you … so beautiful and fancy … I will never forget it.”

Arroz claps, replaying the dance in his mind, remembering the look on Opal’s face made him want to laugh out loud. He smiles to Nico, who looks just as untidy as ever but is glowing slightly. Warm from the dance, perhaps, or maybe something more. Arroz felt it too and was about to say so when a voice interrupted.  He swivelled his eyes to an officer in Mess Dress who was smiling at Nico. Wha-? From the conversation, it appeared they knew each other very well. Arroz kept a grin pasted on his face as they were introduced and exchanged pleasantries.

Reja looked over at Arroz, who Nico noticed was grinning a bit.  Was this awkward for him?  The Trill nodded at the younger man.  “A pleasure.”  he speaks in that tone of voice that dismisses Arroz from the conversation, in many ways.  Then he turns his full attention to Nico, and the ex lovers look at each other, as two people who haven’t seen each other in a long time do when they run into each other unexpectedly.  But Nico didn’t expect the words he heard.  “You changed.”  Reja’s voice was low, but still easily heard by anyone around.  Nico had no doubt that Arroz could hear him just fine.  The Trill reached out and took the lapel of Nico’s jacket between two fingers, smoothing out one of a thousand wrinkles.  “You’re still so handsome, you draw stares from men and women.  And still as rumpled as the dog’s favorite bed.”  he didn’t take his eyes off of Nico, and he smiled in a way that was almost hungry.  Like a lover who wanted to go to bed, not now but right now.  Nico remembered the look well.  How quick and spontaneous it had been with them.  And how risky.  But Reja is not finished.  “But now ... “  and finally he spares Arroz a glance.  “Dancing in public with another man?”  his eyes go back to Nico.  “Does that mean you are out of those shadows you had been hiding so deeply in when you were with me?”  he takes in a deep breath.  “Wonderful.”  Reja takes Nico’s hand, as confident and arrogant as always, and turns towards the dance floor as another slow song begins.  “Dance with me, Nico.  In the light, for all to see.”  it is like a demand from a superior officer.

As the music ends he lets go of her with a smile of regret, clapping politely. He is not fatigued, although the nerves in his legs are just starting their customary jangle, telling him that he should rest.  He ignores them, and would take her hand, and lead her off the dance floor, but not to their seats, but instead towards the platform where the orchestra sits, now preparing to play another piece. He approaches the same man who knew Driss, and had played the slower song she had requested for them.  The man looks to them, smiling, a question in his eyes, where they coming to thank him or something more?  Hars leans in to whisper something in his ear.  The band leader nods to him cheerfully, pointing to the microphone on it’s stand.  Hars steps up onto the platform, if permitted, still holding his girl’s hand. People are milling around, chatting, waiting for the next dance.  He says, “Ladies and Gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying this beautiful night, the fabulous music, and the great company.” There is some applause. He pulls himself to full height, standing straight in his Mess Dress, “I am Captain Hars Darax, and I would like to announce,” he looks down to Driss, “that the most wonderful woman in the universe has agreed to be my wife.” There are scattered exclamations of happy surprise. “A ghrá geal, you have truly blessed me with your love.” He looks up at the crowd most of whom are now turning to see the couple, smiling and starting to clap, “Miss Idrissa Senghor.” He then steps down to her as the music starts, an old Scottish song, “Skye Boat Song,” and he will take her in his arms gently, beginning to move to the music again if she will allow, his heart bursting with pride and love.

Arroz stands mutely watching Reja. The man has pointedly ignored him, and ignored as well the relationship that likely exists between Arroz and Nico, as evidenced by their dance in this very public event full of couples. He still grins but a slow burn begins deep inside him. It disconcerts him. He’s never been jealous of a woman, in fact. Slate Talc’s willingness to do anything to please his girlfriend was something he understood as an observer of behaviour, but not anything he had ever felt himself. As Reja reaches a hand to touch Nico, and makes suggestive remarks, his face grows darker.  The music fades, the people fade, and as in a dream he sees Nico and Reja hand in hand, moving towards the dance floor. Without thinking, he leaps. A burly arm comes down on the point of connection.

Driss is a bit confused, as once the dance ended, she expected for them to sit again.  And she would have, happily.  The one dance was more than she had hoped for after their long walk to the ball.  Hars was surely getting tired now and would need to sit and rest.  But he took her to the stage and speaks first to the leader and then … he steps up to the microphone.  His announcement surprises her most of all, she thinks.  Although they had not made any kind of formal announcement, it was hardly a secret and Driss told anyone who noticed and asked about her Lukenbooth brooch, which she wore always, including tonight.  She smiles up at him.  When he stands at his full height, her lack of same always seems glaring.  As he steps down and takes her into his arms, she glances around quickly for Souleymane.  But she cannot see him for the crowd .. and the stars in her own eyes.  She begins another dance with him and looks up at him, tears glimmering.  “You told …. everyone …”  she marvels, as if she’d not expected that .. and she hadn’t.  “I will make you proud of me, I swear it.  As your wife, we will belong to each other.”  she tells him.  “And I will never bring shame on our family.”  she vows to him, even before their wedding vows.  She will forever be old fashioned .. perhaps now Hars understands that some women are submissive to those men important to their lives … and he was to her.

The moment Reja touches him, Nico remembers all of the reasons he so easily asked for his transfer.  He resists the pull, but also, out of the corner of his eye, notes Arroz’s expression.  The young Astra man was jealous! Warmth and love fill Nico’s heart and, even as he feels Arroz’s hand move to separate he and Reja, Nico pulls his own hand away.  “No, Reja.”  he frowns.  “How dare you even ask.”  he will reach for Arroz’s hand and he prays he can take hold of it.  “You of all people should know how deeply I have to care for a man to come out of the shadows and be seen with him in public.  I’ve never done it before.  Because I never trusted anyone the way I trust Arroz.  Never … loved . anyone like this.”  he sighs and will move closer to his .. date … they aren’t lovers yet, he reminds himself, mildly surprised at his depth of emotions for a man he hasn’t even had sex with.  But it had always been that way with Arroz.  He knows that Arroz is angry … infuriated … maybe even blind with jealousy … and that warms and excites him.  Cements things in his own mind.  Now he turns to the young Astra man.  “May I have another dance?”  he asks, making eye contact if he could.  “In the light, for all to see?”  he parrots Reja’s words.

“I am already proud of you, my darling,” Hars replies. “There is nothing you need to do to make me proud. I am proud of who you are, how you are, and I am very proud to be your chosen husband,” he feels like he’s writing wedding vows and grins. “There can be no shame between two people who belong together. We promised each other the truth, if we are honest with each other, there is nothing anyone else can say or do to damage our bond, because we will already know what was said or what happened.” He slowly moves across the floor with her, glad others are now joining them in the dance, their fifteen seconds of fame now over. “Since we are being honest, I have to say that part of the reason I made that announcement was because Po isn’t dealing with it. I have sent her two requests to speak to her. I know that she knows. She’s shutting me out, and I don’t like it. It’s unkind and it’s unfair, especially since she has someone in her life too. I can’t understand what she’s thinking. It feels so unlike her. It makes me confused as I thought I knew her well.” His face has grown serious, he looks down at Driss and smiles wryly, “I wanted everyone, including Po, to know that you and I are spending the rest of our lives together,” he smoothly kisses her forehead as they whirl. “And, my love, another confession: I need to sit down after this,” he winks at her.

Arroz’s arm slices through the air without impact, as Nico has pulled his hand away from Reja’s, and offered it to him instead.  It takes a beat for Arroz to comprehend what has happened. The red mist in his eyes fades a little. Nico makes it plain who he prefers to be with. Arroz swivels his eyes to Reja, his face dark, frowning, the stance of his body clearly ready for a fight if the man wants one. “Don’t you dare,” he mouths to Reja, even as Nico asks Arroz to dance. Arroz takes Nico’s hand in his... the music fades for a moment while someone makes an announcement... he is so occupied with their own play he doesn’t hear it. The orchestra strikes up another slow dance, and he gracefully moves past Reja, deliberately jostling him, pulling Nico with him, whirling in place until he faces his partner, nodding his head to the beat as he places his hands correctly, then begins to lead Nico away, taking their first steps around the floor.

Driss dances and listens, smiling for the world … and for Hars.  While she agrees with his every word, she doesn’t respond to them.  It is the words about Po that spark her interest.  “She is very formal to me, as well.”  she sighs and bites her lip.  “You know she and Souley are … well … much closer than you and I are … in that .. way…”  she wondered if she would always be so hesitant to talk about sex.  “So I can’t understand why she would be so upset about you and I ….”  she pauses.  “Unless it is not as much you as it is me.  And I cannot imagine someone as independent as she is being jealous of someone like me.”  she sighs.  “My brother will come to our wedding.  He likes you.  And I want him there .. to give me to you.”  she considers.  “Maybe you can talk to him about talking to her?”  she suggests, not at all sure how good an idea that would be.  “Now everyone knows we are getting married.  I love that.  Not sure why but ….”  she giggles at his second confession.  “Come … lets sit and watch and rest, please.  I am not used to all of this attention.  Is it wrong I LIKE to be seated with you watching the others?”  she asks, softly.

Nico catches the … motions and hidden messages that Arroz sends to Reja, and for his part, he doesn’t even look back as he goes out and Arroz again leads.  The first steps are very much in sync … they are … and he loves it.  It’s like they’ve been dancing together for years.  He glances when he can towards Reja and, sure enough, the man has already moved back to a LTjg who wasn’t bad looking.  The Trill snaps something and the other man follows him out the door and out of the ball.  Sour grapes … but that was Reja.  Nico moves closer to Arroz if he can, and enjoys the closeness.  For a long time, he simply enjoys the dance … much easier with Reja gone.  But in time, he looks down at his shorter, but more aggressive partner.  “Thanks.”  he speaks softly.  “For not getting arrested … and for ..”  he shrugs slightly. “Being ready to … well … you know …”  he hedges.  What he is feeling .. what he is doing now .. has been a dream of his for a long time.  “Even ... before … in the ‘shadows’ … no one ever acted like I might be worth … well .. much.”  he chuckles suddenly.  “I go to work and I bark and snarl and sometimes bite … been every rank up to Commander and back at least twice for my mouth and my attitude.  But …. in case you hadn’t noticed … that is … my public face.”  he falls silent then.  “Anyway … thanks.”  he finishes lamely, going back to this public display of affection and enjoying it immensely.

Smiles to her, and glances up to deftly move them past two men who are starting to dance, taking himself and Driss back to the couch where his sword lies. “It is quite a spectacle tonight,” he says, “I have been to this event before, and the costumes have always been fun to look at, but tonight seems more colourful than ever.” The last two times he had come, he had been Po’s escort, but he doesn’t say so. He just wants Driss to enjoy her night. They arrive at the couch and he offers her his hand to assist as she seats herself, then plops down at her side with a side. “I’m thirsty now,” he says, beckoning to a waiter, “How about you? Champagne? Cider? Sparking water?” He wonders what she will choose.

Arroz is pleased that Nico and he are dancing again, especially pleased to throw that fact into the face of Reja, who he has decided he dislikes. The guy was plain rude, coming up and asking Nico to dance in such an obvious way, challenging Arroz by clearly coming on to Nico in front of his face. The man has left, ‘good riddance’ he mutters, swinging Nico around the floor deftly. All those lessons paying off.  He’s sure they make a great looking couple. Or would if Nico could look a little more… pressed, and a little less wrinkled. “It might have turned ugly,” he confesses to Nico. “If you had made another choice, if he had persisted, I would have taken him down.” He has no conceit, in his mind, he has all the skills to deal with another man decisively. “I would have had him on the floor and then out the door within a couple of minutes. Most people wouldn’t have noticed.” He notices the room is getting fuller, many people have been dancing for awhile in heavy costumes, he gets a wiff of sweat as a large man dressed as King Louis of Frances swings by with Marie Antoinette in his arms. He makes a face. “I’ll need two showers after this.”

Driss takes the hand gratefully and sinks into the couch with less grace than she’d hoped for.  Hars may be tired, but she was exhausted.  The ball, all of the talk, the announcement.  It had made her a little dizzy and more overwhelmed than she’d been since Souleymane’s ship had been boarded and she’d been introduced to this planet via the hospital in Majel.  “So many people…”  she agrees, sighing.  The waiter comes by and she doesn’t hesitate to select a soft Astra cider, ignoring the hard stuff.  She watches as Hars makes his own choice and, taking a sip she sighs again.  “Could we leave soon.  Go home …  I mean … well, you know what I mean.”  she stumbles over her words.  “It’s been so wonderful, but …  I actually think I am overwhelmed by all these people.  Is the whole planet here?”  she wonders.  Taking another, deeper drink, she looks around some more.  “It’s so beautiful.  All of it.  I’ll never forget this, Hars.  Not as long as I live.”

Nico dances, finally looking around at those around them and he realizes that the place is filling up.  He stiffens a bit, as crowds were never his thing.   Give him his office, his schematics, a raw hole in the ground that would, in time and with his guidance, be a simple cellar and he could feel better.  “I’m flattered.  But I am about ready to go home.”  he replies to the words and then when the king and queen pass them by and Arroz mentions two showers, he lifts his brows.  “You WILL let me help with at LEAST one of those, won’t you?”  he teases.  “After all, you KNOW what a dirty man I am…..”  and he winks.  The ball has been great for him, but more in what its shown him about his roommate than anything else.

Hars takes a sparkling water, bringing the glass to his lips with a sigh of relief, and downing half of it before turning back to Driss to hear what she has to say. He smiles, “I’d love to walk you home. Why don’t we take our drinks out to the lawn, and sit on one of the benches for a rest, and then take our time going back to your house?” He rose, ready to take her arm, ignoring his sword. There was no way he was going to buckle it back on, nor was he prepared to carry it all the way to Driss’s and back. He’d leave it there and get it later, or replicate another one. He doubted he’d need Mess Dress again for awhile. Maybe for their wedding, whenever that might be, looking to Driss’s face, he thought they should wait a little while. Souley and Fuku were just getting settled, there was the Beryl fire and some kind of explosion on the station as well as at the hospital. He wanted her to be calm and happy, not worried about things. If he could have an hour with Po, he’d talk to her about his ideas with regard to the Treman situation. It was so frustrating to feel cut off. He knew he was retired, but he’d always been able to talk to Po and had felt he had something to offer as the former CO of the flagship and a longtime Starfleet officer. He sighed as he led Driss through the dancers and out into the night air. The sky was clear and Questi was beaming down, silver, lighting their way. “That’s better,” he said, still carrying his cup.

Arroz blinks as Nico suggests taking a shower with him. His pleasure at the success of the evening, shocking Opal, defeating Reja, and dancing so well, ‘winning’ Nico… morphed into something else he could only call reluctance. He had paid the piper and now he would have to play the tune. He deftly moved them across the floor to one of the open doors, bringing them to a stop as a Captain and his date moved by them, carrying glasses, obviously also looking for some fresh air. “Let’s go,” he said to Nico, stopping the dance but still holding his hand, pulling the man through the door and out onto the lawn. It would be a ways to the parent’s house, even longer than normal as they couldn’t walk through the burnt village, but needed to take the road around it, since it was all blocked off for security reasons. He looked to Nico with a brief smile. “Up for a walk?”

=^=

Stopping and Starting

Nico Caito walked into the house feeling pretty good about things.  Beryl was coming along nicely.  His house designs were mostly finished and sent in for approval.  Now he only had to wait for the bureaucrats to decide which, of any, of his designs to choose.  Knowing how bureaucrats worked, he already had three more designs waiting in the wings.  Just in case. All in all, things were going so well, he could easily go home and fix himself a lunch instead of grabbing one of The Cafe’s bento boxes to eat on the site.

He came in and fixed himself a quick sandwich, poured himself some berry juice and moved to the dining room table with a small grin on his face.  Arroz had been, more or less successfully, training him to eat at the table as opposed to over the sink.  Taking off his hard hat, he dropped it on the table … not all of his young roommates efforts had been easy.

As he sat he noticed a PADD sitting squarely in the middle of the table.  Had to be Arroz’s, as of the two of them only Arroz was that compulsively neat.  They were a study in contrasts.

Seeing his name on the screen, Nico picked up the PADD and began to read … and as he did, his day went from good to worse.  It was a report … about the insurance dweeb that had tried to bribe him …..

Arroz stepped out of the shower, dried himself and slowly dressed in the clothes he had chosen to wear. It was certainly nice to be out of uniform. More comfortable. He tidied the room after himself, glancing out the window. Nothing to do. He smiled. No reports to write, no one to answer to but himself… and the absent parents.  He’d slept hours. He heard a noise from downstairs, probably Nico coming home for lunch, and he was just getting up.  He smiled…. then frowned slightly, reminding himself that if he left Starfleet he would have to be working just as hard if he wanted a successful business. He’d been sketching out some ideas for interior design for the houses he’d seen in various stages of construction on the site of the Beryl Village fire. He grabbed his sketchbook off the art table and ran lightly down the stairs.  Nico was standing there, reading Arroz’s PADD. “Hey,” he said, grimacing slightly at the sight of a dirty hardhat on the dining table. “How was your morning?”

Nico glanced up from the report as he heard a sound.  Most likely Arroz tidying up something.  Then he turned his attention back to the report and read it again.  When Arroz came  happily down the stairs, he looked at him.  “It was fine until I came home to find this.”  he grumbled, dropping the pad on the table.  “You don’t actually plan on FILING this, do you?”  he demanded to know.  “It was nothing, Arroz.  Nothing!”  the last word was punctuated by a flat handed slap on the dining table, causing a bit of the dried mud on the hard hat to flake off on the table.

His happy mood shattered, Arroz grinds to a halt. Breathing slightly faster due to his run down the stairs, he pauses. His mind takes a snapshot of the scene. Nico, dressed in what some might call work clothes, but appear like old gardening clothes to the younger man. Worn in the knees, rips unmended, Nico’s face is dark with anger, the sound of the hand hitting the table still reverberates around them. Behind his roommate, windows open to the sun, the ocean breeze moving the drapery he’d hung there, the floor he’d washed yesterday gleaming in the light. Through the window the sound of children playing on the beach, and even the smell of food from the small kiosk in the sand down the hill from the grand Caitian Embassy. Mixed with that, the faint order of sweat and mud from the man before him. He grinds his teeth slightly, replying, “I wouldn’t file anything without talking to you first.  If I’d known you’d react like this I wouldn’t have taken the time. BUT if you want to actually LISTEN instead of jumping to conclusions, I can tell you that woman is trouble in more ways than one.” He moves over to the table, picking up the hardhat, “DON’T put your muddy CRAP on the furniture. Look at this!” He points to the mud that is on the surface now, then stomps away to the front door, where he tosses the hardhat with a hard bang, on a crate that sits outside the entrance. He turns back, his broad shoulders cutting out at least three quarters of the light.

Nico pauses at the first words out of his roommates mouth.  The kid had a point … Nico knew him better than that now.  He takes in a deep breath and is about to apologize when Arroz snaps at him about the hardhat.  Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inwardly chides himself for his thoughts and his unneat habits, then follows Arroz to the front door, where he is momentarily taken by the silhouette.  “I’m … sorry…”  he ventures.  “For the mud, and for thinking even for a second you’d do something like that.”  he blows out a breath.  He moves forward and past Arroz, the fit a bit tight.  Arroz was shorter but larger, but Nico was taller and thin, but had decently broad shoulders.  He picks up the hardhat and half turns back to Arroz.  Then he realizes he may die if he tries to clean the thing off in the kitchen sink.  “So tell me more about this witch.”  he asks, casually, moving down the front stairs and to the water spigot that is placed for external use like watering the grass … or rinsing off muddy clothes.  “And do you really think anyone will do anything about some bureaucrat trying to bribe me?”  he emphasises me.  “I’m Starfleet.  Might be a tiny bit more … bad ….”  he begins to wash off his hardhat.

Arroz is surprised at how angry he feels with Nico. It’s irritating that there’s mud on the table and that he’s accused of interfering. He struggles to calm himself.. He watches Nico go down the stairs to the tap at the side of the house to wash off his hardhat.  The slim figure bending over the running water holds his gaze.  “Opal has a reputation. She’s a lot like that girl Latte. A maneater. She didn’t just try to bribe you. She offered you sexual favours in return for information. She has half the men in the province wrapped around her little finger. If YOU don’t report it, she might. She might accuse YOU.” He pauses, feeling his emotions morph from anger to worry for his... friend. “She’s trouble. And I don’t think, given my junior position and current status, that I could do anything to help you. Except file an official report about a disturbance on your job site to my Chief of Security so that there is some record of what happened from your point of view, BEFORE anything is received from HER.”  He goes in the house, grabs the PADD, and comes back down, moving down the stairs. Earnestly, his voice low, “If she says it first, anything you say will be suspect. Please let me send it right now, Nico.” His finger hovers over the PADD, ready to press ‘submit’. He’s tempted to do it anyway, he’s so sure he’s right, but he waits for an answer.

Nico washes the hardhat blindly.  His eyes are on Arroz.  When he mentions the sexual favors, he sighs deeply.  “Yea ….”  he whispers.  that had crossed his mind, but he’d ignored it for many reasons.  “And when I didn’t respond to her sexually, she offered me money ….”  he shakes the water off of the hardhat.  It’s a thousand times cleaner than it WAS, but it’s hardly in brand new condition.  He straightens and moves back up the stairs, drying the hardhat on his dirty shirt without thinking. He pauses and leans into Arroz.  “Send it.  I need to find a towel ….”  and he moves back into the house, towards the kitchen and one of the kitchen dishtowels to finish drying off his hardhat.

Arroz presses the screen, watching as the message flashes away and a confirmation of receipt is recorded. Then he goes back in the house, putting the PADD on the table by the door before crossing to the kitchen, where Nico is drying his hardhat with one of his newly hung kitchen towels. “Oh man,” he mutters, “you just are going to drive me crazy, aren’t you?” His voice is a low growl. He could say a lot of things but he just walks up to Nico and puts his hand out. He will take the hardhat, and the towel, if permitted.  He’ll put them down on the counter - a sign that his mind is well on something else. He looks at Nico’s face, then away, his jaw working. “My life was as sterile as I could make it before you arrived in it. Now look at me. Mud on the table, dirt on the floor, lord knows how much bacteria you track in here every time you walk in the door. You use a brand new kitchen towel to wipe off your fucking dirty hat, you leave crumbs everywhere, your clothes are filthy, if you took them off I bet you’d be filthy too;” the litany of complaints is said in a throaty bass and… at the end he smiles wryly to Nico.

Nico allows the towel and hardhat to be taken from him.  With each complaint, he grins a little wider, although he does try and suppress it.  “Arroz.”  he tries to keep the humor out of his voice.  “I am working to rebuild a village.  And I am a ‘hands on’ kinda site supervisor.  So my hands get in the dirt, my knees get in the dirt.  It’s a dirty job.”  he shrugs.  “I’m not as filthy as you make me sound.  Hell ….  you make me sound like Mary Malone, who was a filthy cow who wound up infecting a bunch of people on Earth a million years ago.”  he tries to look insulted.  “Yes, I drop my clothes in a pile before I get in the shower and sometimes … ok .. rarely … pick them up when I dry off.  Then I drop my towel at the foot of my bed before I pick up and change into clean clothes.  And I have seen you stare …..  I have a system.  Clean clothes on top, dirty clothes on the floor.”  he says this as if that should be obvious.  “But …”  he takes a step closer and leans in a bit.  “If you want to make a bet, I’ll strip right now and you will see that the filth ends at collar and cuffs.  My mother’s biggest complaint….”  he is close enough to kiss Arroz, probably and probably would … if a knock didn’t sound at the front door …

Arroz swallows as Nico comes closer. The mingled scent of sweat, mud, and something else entirely manly hits him like a punch in the stomach. The muscles in his legs flex as he takes a step closer, his instincts telling him what Nico wanted. He reaches a muscled arm to touch Nico’s shoulder, unsure if it would be allowed, but wanting to touch. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he links his lips. The space between them is negligible. One small step further and he’d have Nico against the counter, hard. In that brief moment of time, when everything stands still while he decides, a sound is heard. Almost as though woken from a sleep, he blinks, and turns towards it, his arm falling away, moving to the door. A messenger is there, wearing the traditional Astra uniform of a page. From the Council?  He speaks briefly to the boy and takes the missive, a piece of parchment made from fine Astra rice. Turning, he strides back to the kitchen counter, tearing off the ribbon that holds the cylinder together. Glancing at it, he realizes he is mistaken. “It’s for you,” he says to Nico, still reading.

=====ORDER=====
Beryl Station Officer IFR: Bues Yretta
Chief Superintendant APF: Tamor Seirots
Group Captain ADF: Sitruk Nevat
Head, Astra Civilian Authority: Mr Lazuli Pookara
LTjg Nico Caito, Civilian Engineer
Beryl Supervisor Girpoz Stleew
Colony Commander Poison Toocool

BERYL  VILLAGE

Effective immediately all work on the site of Beryl Village shall cease by order of Magistrate Kcods Guma, Arbitrator of Iherzolite Province North. Nothing is to be removed from the area, including building materials and machinery. Additional security will be provided by APF in coordination with Starfleet Security. No one without proper authorization from this office is to enter the area until investigations by police, fire and insurance are concluded.  So ordered this day 00h00m00.0000 Astra.

Signed:
Kcods Guma,
Provincial Magistrate
Iherzolite
=====END=====

Arroz looks up after reading the message text aloud in disbelief.  Only a few minutes after he’d sent that note to his Chief, too.. “Fuck me,” he says.

Nico was all ready for this … he wanted this … he NEEDED this ….  and then the knock comes and it is like a bucket of water, separating them …..  Arroz reads it aloud and his whole body goes cold.  He moves to Arroz and takes the missive and reads it with his own eyes.  “That ……”  he begins and growls low in his throat.  “Fuck!”  he screams and, lucky for he and Arroz, throws he only thing he is holding …. the missive … which flutters to the ground at a whole quarter of a meter away from him.   He trods over it, marching away and then back, and then away again.  “I’m out of work!”  he growls, more to himself than to Arroz.  He marches around the couch and paces there before he turns towards the fireplace, growls at it and places his hands on the mantel, his head bowed in defeat, slowly moving back and forth.

Nico’s shout rings through the room and Arroz leans on the kitchen counter, bowled over by his emotions. The past few minutes have been a blur. He’d suspected Opal would get up to mischief, just because she could. He is also intrigued by the idea that someone is trying to hide evidence at the site of the fire.  He looks at Nico’s back. He’s known the man since Nico’s friend Slate Talc was found dead. It’s not Nico, he was just doing what he was told.  A host of names come through his mind.  He wants to talk to Nico, find out who ordered him to work in the village, who said what and when.  He moves towards him, but instead of asking him anything, he reaches out a hand. He wants to turn Nico to face him. He wants to hold him, and tell him it will be okay. His fingers will land gently on Nico, if allowed. After that… his mind goes blank. Half strong and secure, offering support. Half trembling on the edge of something new.

Arroz’s hand on him is felt .. gentle and tentative … Have I scared him?  he wonders.  At first he doesn’t move, just keeps shaking his head.  “I’m sorry, Arroz.”  his voice is gruff.  “I know this sounds stupid, but .. I’ve been hiding in this job for a couple weeks now.  Hiding .. trying to heal from my friends death and my blindness at not being able to know it was going to happen …”  a rational part of him understands there was nothing he could have done, but another part … a more powerful part …  had him feeling as guilty as if he’d poisoned the boy himself.  “I LIKE being busy.  LOVE working with my hands … so when the Counselor suggested I do this job I jumped at it.  No matter what I tell anyone else but YOU.”  he takes in a deep breath and takes one hand off the mantel. to put it on his shoulder over Arroz’s, if allowed.  Taking it off his shoulder he turns now to face his roommate.  Moving the hand from his shoulder to his own waist, he places it there and moves his own hand, as if to caress the younger mans face.  “You’re saving my life, you know….”  he whispers but stops short, not touching him.  His hands are much cleaner after washing the hardhat, but .. with Arroz it was better to be safe than sorry ….  but he leans in again, as he had before the missive that knocked him on his ass.  This time, if he is allowed he will ‘complete the circuit’ and kiss the younger man.

Arroz starts as Nico’s hand lands on top of his. An electric shock runs through him as the man turns to face him. Nico reaches his fingers to touch Arroz’ cheek… the electric pulses are coursing now… nervous, jangling. His heart is beating loud. Despite his pentient for cleanliness and his dislike of germs (blame the required Science classes at Academy), he is also proud. He will take the first step. He leans into Nico, brushing the man’s lips with his own. He steps over the brink, but he is not falling. Someone is there to hold him.

=^=

Untidy Lunch

Arroz Arum: delves deep into the box, looking for more books. The shelves are empty, but since his parents failed to label the crates, he has no idea where the library might be. Frustrated: "Hope I don't have to spend my whole damn leave trying to sort out their mess," he grumbles, squinting into the blackness of the crate. Nothing in it but dust, it appears. He gets back up off his knees and kicks the box into the corner.

NicoP.Caito marches in, expecting the place to be empty. He turns left, but hears the crate being kicked. He spins around and sees his new roomie. "What'd it do to you?" he asks, still frowning a bit.

Arroz Arum: turns as he hears Nico come in. Sticks his hands in his pockets with a sigh. Shrugs: "Fed up with unpacking my disorganized parents junk," he says, with a wry grin, "what's up with you?"

NicoP.Caito chuckles. So far he's been able to keep his own untidiness in check. "They don't label anything, do they?" he guesses. "Oh, I figured I could use a homemade lunch. A bureaucrat in a skirt visited the site today .... " he shakes his head. "Offered me a bribe no less." he actually chuckles. "Money, not sex."

Arroz Arum: raises an eyebrow, "Guess there's lots of officials worried about their jobs now a whole village burned to the ground. One came by here earlier, I had to inform him my parents are already housing you, and that there's no room for anyone else. Otherwise they might have hoisted a family of five on us. I showed him the ONE bedroom and pointed out I was already sleeping on the couch." Shakes his head, "If they want to put tents in the yard it's fine with me, but," he looks to Nico, "Starfleet has a HUGE spacestation and an Academy building with empty floors, so surely they could do SOMETHING." Looks towards the kitchen, suddenly hungry, "Plus I don't want Starfleet around here. I came to stay to get away from all that." Starts to move towards the cooler, "I suppose it's selfish."

 NicoP.Caito arches his brows, suddenly feeling a bit more pressure to get the village rebuild. "Oh? On THESE floors?" he motions to the living space before going into the fridge. "Well, you could put a good thirty people here on the floor. Another fifteen upstairs. You could bunk with me." he manages to sound light. "Well, remember .... Starfleet often won't step in unless it's really crucial. And this might not qualify." he begins to prepare sandwiches. "I'm Starfleet ... well ... yea ... they haven't busted me down to civilian ... yet." he snorts.

Arroz Arum: roots around, "How about a bottle of wine, there's some cheese, apples, fresh veggies, and a loaf of that bread from The Cafe." Turns his head from the fridge, "Forty five people??? No F'n way," he grabs some of the things he's listed and brings them over to the counter. "Use the embassies, they're all empty, I haven't seen a Caitian yet, and can't remember the last time I saw an Equiner." He takes a knife and starts to chop up veggies. "I'm beginning to hate Starfleet," he confesses.

Nico nods.  "Well, I was raised on the moon."  he reminds.  "So dome housing.  Me and my parents lived in a space the size of this kitchen and my father always felt bad because my mother refused to have any more kids."  he watches him chop the veggies while he takes the loaf of bread.  "Well ...  I am making some good contacts on this job."  he says.  "Once my housing design gets built it can be replicated and put in place."  he pauses.  "I can pay you back then.. you come live with me and we BOTH resign our commissions and become civilians."  he suggests casually.  "You don't even have to sleep with me."  he concentrates as he slices the loaf in half, making SURE not to make eye contact.

Arroz stops what he’s doing and leans on the counter, watching Nico as he cuts the bread. Silence falls for a minute, then he says, “I didn’t know I could resign. My recruiter told me I had to finish Academy and do at least two more years after that. Unless I can get a medical release.” He looks around, “A new house designed by you… much better than this old place. Or my quarters…. the parents, they drive me crazy although I suppose they are ‘good people’. I can’t really fathom how they think. I thought maybe I’d learn something out there, in space,” he points his knife, “but I didn’t get much of a chance. Probably should have gone into science, but, I didn’t think I had the brain for it. Security is easy. I have brawn,” he grins slightly, banging one fist on his chest. Silence again. He looks back at Nico’s profile, “You’re kidding, right?” he swallows nervously.

Slicing the bread loaf evenly, Nico opens it and concentrates on placing sliced meat and cheese in place.  “Of course you can quit Starfleet.  Recruiters have to tell you that.  It’s part of the job.  I told it to Slade, too.”  he examines the work, still not completely satisfied, and not wanting to look up in any event.  “Thats what I do.  Design houses, office buildings, bridges, you name it.  And parents are *supposed* to love you and drive you crazy while they do it.  I’m sure your parents love you.”  he says the words almost dismissively, keeping his own emotions .. jealousy .. out of it.  “You.  In science ..with the alien diseases and strange substances?  You wouldn’t last ten minutes.”  he catches the chest bang out of the corner of his eye and swallows hard.  Feeling the younger mans eyes on him, he doesn’t speak for a few minutes.  He glances at him and then away.  For a moment he considers not answering at all, but that could go very bad very quickly.  So he shrugs.  “I’ve lived in close quarters all my life.”  he replies.  “When my aunt and her husband died, my cousin Adam came to live with us.”  he tells Arroz.  “He and I slept in the same bed from the time I was ten until I was eighteen and joined Starfleet.”  the story isn’t a lie, but that is not what he was talking about at all.  “So sleeping with you doesn’t mean *sleeping* with you.”  he over emphasises the second ‘sleeping’.  He gives a laugh that he hopes doesn’t sound as forced as it actually is.  Straightening, he looks at Arroz.  “But ya never know until you try, kid.”  he quips, and turns his back, heading for the cooler and opening the door, kneeling in front of it before his legs collapse and peering inside.  The statement could have meant anything.  Silently he cursed the incredibly strong attraction to this young man who failed in relationships with women as much as he had.  Of course in his case ninety percent of the women he failed with didn’t exist, and the other ten percent … he’d never really tried to make it work.  Looking at the bottles in the cooler, he tried to qash his attraction, and not for the first time.  He hated not knowing if the kid was failing with women because he was simply young and stupid, or because Arroz was like him ….

Arroz looks at Nico’s back as the guy leans into the fridge, talking to the vegetables. Silently he takes what they have prepared to the table, then pauses on his way back, thrusting his hands into his pockets, hesitant. “Hey Nico,” he says, “chill out okay.” He moves to lean on the counter again, “I.. hear the words you’re saying but the way you look and the way you move says something different. Just be honest.” His security training assists him to read between the lines. “Ever heard of IDIC?” he says, “It means Starfleet accepts people as they are, without prejudice or discrimination. I’ve seen all kinds, Romulans, Caitians, Klingons, former Borg, species without gender and species with three genders, androids too… as well as gays and lesbians, Christians, Buddhists and Bajoran priests. The lot, and then some. We are given all kinds of classes and we meet all kinds of humanoids in our studies and at Academy, as well as on our assignments. You don’t have to pretend with me.” He sighs, picking up the plate of bread and taking it to the table. “Just be who you are… and let me be who I am too,” he carefully arranges the items on the table, geometrically aligned.

Nico turns to look at him sharply as he speaks, asks for honesty and quotes Starfleet policy at him.  As he moves to the table, he watches him arrange it.  Nico takes a bottle of local wine out of the cooler, then pauses and puts it back and reaches for a bottle of harder stuff.  Moving back to the table, he pours himself a glass of the hard stuff and, after a moment, sets the bottle between their two glasses.  He picks up his glass and murmurs.  “Be honest?”  he then downs his drink and reaches for the bottle to pour another.  “Alright …..”  he drinks half the glass.  “I’m a Greko-Italian born on the moon.  My parents had high hopes for me.  Especially my father.”  he looks into the glass of liquid.  “Who never heard of IDIC.”  he licks his lips, looks up at the younger man and downs the other half of the drink, feeling the alcohol relax him.  He pours a third.  “Remember when I told you my father loses good money because I haven’t been drummed out of the service?  Well, he’s more hoping that I will get killed in action or something.  Being an Engineer to him is a pansy ass job for his pansy ass son.”  he sips from this drink.  “So there’s your honesty.”  he leans back and then glances up at Arroz.  “Oh …. and since I got over the initial shock of Slade’s death, I got to take a better look at you and like what I see.”  he takes another sip and leans back in his seat, studying the liquid in the glass.  He almost says one more thing, but keeps that little bit of honesty to himself.

Raises his eyebrows, “Of course I went to Academy here on Astra and Fleet Captain Toocool is a stickler for IDIC… Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations, so we were all forced to take classes in history and culture along with everything else. We have a melting pot with the Astraionian Council being, it seems, the central point for an alliance of sorts with sentient beings from a variety of planets in the explored sectors,” he pours himself a glass of wine and takes a sip, carefully wiping a spill from the table with his napkin. “I take it you don’t like your father much, he doesn’t sound like an adherant of IDIC,” he chuckles, “but you’re light years away from him now, so… why let it bother you?  Your life is yours. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. In fact,” he says gently, “I hear you are pretty well respected for your talents, but your choice of clothing could use some assistance. I can provide that,” he takes another sip, “I have excellent taste in clothes. And,” he says, fingering the place settings again, “What about the possibility that you design the houses, and I design the interiors?” He lifts a hand, pointing around them at the decorating he’s done, “I do pretty good, if I say so myself.” Then he turns to look at Nico, “I like you Nico. I’m not sure yet how much, but…” he looks away out the window, swallowing, “I’d like to find out.”

Nico sighs and snorts.  “Arroz, from what little I know about our beloved Fleet Captain, she is the well trained sanctimonious, starry eyed, optimistic regulations quoter, who may have a boyfriend, but still acts like she desperately needs to get laid.”  And who would now wonder why he spent so much time in front of various disciplinary committees charged with insubordination.  He sighs again and rubs at his temple.  “No, my father isn’t a great believer in IDIC.  If Terra Prime was still in existence, my father would be one of its dues paying members.  They were this group of xenophobic terrorist extremists back in the moon’s history.  Wanted all humans off of Earth and out of the whole damn Sol system.”  he shrugs.  “But my father would delve even deeper into history … hating and fearing homosexuals … especially any from his own loins.”  he shakes his head.  “It …. it’s hard to explain.  But he is my father and … if nothing else I want to prove to him that I am some good to someone.  But even if I did … I would still be gay.”  Nico’s eyebrows raise as his tastes in clothes is criticized a bit and chuckles slightly at the idea that Arroz could … and would … help him there.  He then listens to the proposal and nods, slowly.  He has thought the same himself.  But then he hears the words that confirm what he’s hoped he would hear.  Watching the young Astraios man’s profile, he licks his lips softly.  Allowing the silence a chance to build, he finally breaks it.  “Let’s find out together …”  he relaxes and reaches for one of the sandwiches.  Taking a bite, he chews and, with his mouth full comments.  “We make one hell of a sandwich together.  So who knows what else we do well together.”  and he finally swallows.

=^=

House guest

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 is crawling around in the mulch of the side garden, close to the house peering closely at its foundation. He is out of uniform, dusty and flecked with small pieces of debris from ... who knows where. he works around the corner and sneezes when he gets a bit of dirt in his nose.

Arroz Arum: moves from the kitchen towards the front door, frustrated that the movers did not properly place the crates, and frustrated even more that his parents, as usual, did not label them properly. He steps out the door, just as a sneeze is heard. "What the devi...?"

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 looks up suddenly when he hears a voice, ready to explain himself to a nosy home owner. Then he sees it is Arroz. "Oh .. I didn't know you lived here." he states, wiping the dirt off of his hands and onto his pants. He looks down at them and grabs the tail of his shirt, using it as a towel. He steps forward and looks up at the younger man. "I was .. well .. looking at the way native houses are built." he explains. "They put me on medical leave and then promptly lent me out to the government like a servo wrench." he pauses. "When did YOU get back?"

Arroz Arum: moves away from the boxes and down the stairs, to offer his hand. A custom he has learned from the humans in Starfleet. "Just this morning," he says. "I sent you a message to let you know what we'd found," he looks at Nico closely, "You look worn out and... dirty," he frowns slightly, "want to come in for a drink?"

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 wipes his hands on his shirt again before taking the young mans hand. "You did?" he reaches into the side pocket of his pants and comes out with a PADD. Taps a bit and .. "Ohhh .. here it is ...." he reads and nods, then looks up. "I'm a little of both. Sure, if you don't mind." he brushes himself off as best he can before entering the house. "Good building. Nice structure." he hovers near the kitchen. "I've been crawling around the disaster area. Keep finding myself examining my own old house .. what's left of it." he sighs. "I'm glad you got a suspect too."

Arroz Arum: moves up the stairs and through the house, ignoring the packing crates, gets behind the counter of the kitchen and starts rooting around in a box for some glasses. "I have some Astra Apple Cider in the cooler. That much I was able to organize.  I only got here a couple of hours ago. It looks a lot better now, but it's still a mess." He looks down at himself, "guess I ruined my uniform. Oh well. I have four days leave."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 nods. "That'll be fine." he agrees watching him. He looks at the high cielings. "I ... got no problems with mess, as lng as its ORGANIZED mess." he chuckles and looks at he uniform. "You alright? You mentioned you were sick on Gati." he frowns slightly. "I mean is it medical leave or ... personal?" he looks around the place again.

Arroz Arum: pours them both some cold cider, "I think these glasses are clean." He pushes one across the counter to Nico. "I hate mess. It's unhealthy," he takes a sip. "That's nice," he says, rolling the liquid in the glass, "I got sick, yeah, saw an interesting doctor on Gati... if you can call him a doctor, but he suggested I take some leave so I put in for it as soon as we got back to where comms worked." He leans on the counter, "what do you mean, what's left of your old house?"

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 chuckles and looks down at himself. "Well, I'm healthy. But I have a busy life and it requires me to crawl around in muck, dirt and mire. And mostly I am clean .... just ..." he shrugs. He isn't exactly an iron and press kind of man. "Gati has a doctor? That's bound to be interesting." he sighs. "I lived in Beryl. Just made it out of my house, helped some people out, was one fo the first to call in firefighters. I'm homeless now." he shrugs. "I won't go back to living on a damn station." he growls and plucks at his smudges wrinkled shirt. "These aren't even my clothes. I lost everything but my life, so I came out of it pretty good."

Arroz Arum: lifts his glass for another sip, enjoying the smooth liquer as it slides down his throat, "What happened in Beryl?" he asks, "I transported here as soon as I could upon arrival, I haven't talked to anyone or even opened my bag to look at my PADD."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 blinks. "It burned to the ground." he states. "All of it. Looks like arson to me and the fire crews. Twenty deaths. And the place is leveled." he watches the kid. "Rumors are that is was Treman somehow. I got put on leave the day before and now I'm the man helping rebuild the place better. Not so much wood and glass anymore, I think."

Arroz Arum: opens his mouth in surprise, "OH, I'm totally stunned. The whole place?" He shakes his head, "I had no idea. I wonder if I knew any of them.." his voice trails off. "Awful. Treman? I had heard we are at defstat two... if I didn't have a doctor's note I wouldn't have been approved for leave." He leans on the counter, looking at Nico, "You alright then?"

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 nods. "Leveled." he confirmes. He paues. "I have the casuality lists. They're being updated every few hours. A lot of the survivors are in the hospital still." he nods. "You didnt want to. It was hot as the sun in there at first. Once I got out I wasn't allowed in until I was approached for the rebuild effort. Reconstruction is sort of my speciality." he leans on the counter too and grins. "I'm fine. You worried about me, kid?"

Arroz Arum: looks down at his empty glass. "Life is way too short. What a mess. It was a pretty village, only half developed if I remember correctly," he nods slightly, "You were pretty broken up over Slate, now this... a village gone, more people dead, even your house..." he pauses for a moment, "Would you like to stay here?" He lifts a hand, "Lots of room and the parents aren't coming for a month."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 nods. "Yea. It's not really been my month." he agrees. He blinks at the offer, his mind quashing inappropriate thoughts. Besides ... he DID need a place to stay. "Well .... sure .... Thanks for the offer. I was going to have to live on the station, like you." he pauses. "And I am a fairly responsible housesitter. Don't let my service record fool ya." he has no idea if the young man has looked into his record ... but he figures he may have.

Arroz Arum: shakes his head, "I hate the station. A junior officer like me has to share quarters with three other guys. In spite of inspections, the room is a mess, they never clean the shower, and you can't sleep at night. This place is big. There's a bedroom and a sitting room upstairs, plus all the space down here.  Not much for furniture though."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 chuckles. "Yea. They've let me keep having private quarters, even though I'm not a Commander anymore." he shrugs. "I'm quiet but not that big a housekeeper, I confess. But I can keep my clutter to my own personal space while I look for another place ...." he pauses. "Or just build one since I'm working on drawings." he looks around. "I'm not much on furniture. I'm going to be out a lot anyway with meetings." he snorts. "I think the councelor wanted me to get my mind off of Slate. Mission accomplished." he snorts.

Arroz Arum: moves away from the kitchen to look around the living room, "There is some more furniture coming. They want me to set it up, get some artwork, decorate the place. Or... Mother does. Father could care less about artwork." He sniffs. "The walls look empty to me.  I like the view though," he looks out the window at the ocean, "and it's fairly private too.  Must have cost some latinum." He nods to Nico, "Just don't leave dirty dishes in the sink, drives me crazy. Do you want top or bottom," he says innocently, hands in his pockets, looking at the sea.

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 moves with him to the window. "Yea .... I'm kind of with your father on the artwork. All I have is pictures of my work." he looks around. "I can do dishes. In the next couple months it may be as close as I get to washing my hands." he teases, looking out at the water. His brows raise at the question and he swallows before answering the question, as casually as he can. "Oh .... I've always been a top man." h admits, biting the inside of his cheek. "Your parents are still alive?" he wonders, probing a bit. "How old are they? Are you an only child?"

Arroz Arum: raises his eyebrows, "Of course they are still alive. I am only 23. They run a big business to the south, but they lost some money last year during the epidemic. I have a sister, she's married and lives down there too. They all work in the family business but me. I'm the maverick," he turns to Nico, "I was never interested in farming."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 shrugs. "Well, you never know. My parents were both firefighters." he tells him. "They had to drag my mother out of the stationhouse .. she didnt want to quit." he laughs lightly. "I was the maverick also. Joined with Starfleet out of school. My father has lost plenty of latinum to me on when I would be dishonorably discharged." he quips.

Arroz Arum: smiles, "My parents like to travel, so my sister and her husband and their kids live on the farm and look after it." He shakes his head, "Now that I've actually been on a real mission for Starfleet... I'm not sure I like it. I wish sometimes I'd followed my original plan to join the APF." He looks to Nico, "Were?  I guess that means they're gone? But you're from Earth, right. A long way. Funny you end up here, standing next to me in this house."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 grins. "A farm sounds nice. But the dirt might drive some people crazy." he teases, lightly. He moves to the windoa and begins to run his hand along the frame. "You know, Starfleet is not a prison term, no matter what people have overheard me saying. You can quit anytime. Hell, even *I* am considering resigning my commission half the time. So its never too late, Arroz." he looks back. "My father is still alive. My mother died just before I transferred here. And I'm from the moon ... Luna a lot call it." he leans against the apace between windows. "I've done a lot of traveling in my twenty years." he murmurs. "A lot of beautiful places, a couple dumps. But ... I like it here." he turns again to look out of the window. "Might make this my last stop, even if I don't have my time in yet. Find someone to take care of me in my old age."

Arroz Arum: watches Nico run his hands over the window frame. He shakes his head slightly, "The problem with Starfleet is that... well," he runs his hands over his bald head, "I think I chose the wrong branch. It's good I didn't get into the APF as well..." he sighs, "I thought I wanted to be a detective, and solve mysteries... but now I don't know. It just seems so... nasty. Dirty. Maybe I don't want to see the worst in people. And I have to go to... so many places that are filthy, where people are sick, or poor, or angry... it's not what I imagined at all." He shrugs. After a couple of minutes, "I like this house. And, I haven't been very far from Astra, but I like it too. It's home. It's special." He tilts his head, "Do you have a girl here?"

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 listens to him as he looks out of the window, peering close to see its thickness and what its madeor ... and how to improve it. "Yea .. you choose the wrong branch, but ... what's clean? Engineering .. a bit. Maybe you could help with the rebuild too somehow. I never really considered the neatness and hygenic qualities of my profession." he takes the silent time to tap on the glass. "This really is a beautiful place." and then Arroz mentions a girl and he looks back sharply. But then his face softens. "No. I .. had a lover on Tellar Prime a long time ago. Ten years we've been apart and we were together about seven years." he paises. "Been a long time since I thought of hi .. them." he trips over the last word, then glances at the floor, then finally, back out the window, allarently actually looking at the scenery outside the house for once.

Arroz Arum: shakes his head, "I don't think I'd be a good Engineer. I'm probably supposed to be an artist or an interior designer... or maybe an architect. I could never be a doctor," he shudders, thinking over what Nico had said. "Tellar Prime. Wow." He looks out the window too, "It is very beautiful here and it's special too. In all my studies I never read about another planet that was like this one. Alive, in her own way, they say in the myths. Softly sensual and with a sense of humor. Like they say a good girl should be," he shrugs at this, "I've only really known a couple of girls. And I don't know..." he confesses softly, "Maybe it was timing or someting but, they never worked out."

NicoP.Caito @hypergrid.org:8002 nods absently. "Interior design. That sounds like you. I build it, you decorate it." he looks over his shoulder. "Beautiful land, beautiful archetecture ... beautiful people." he listens further and narrowly avoids laughing. "I've never been married myself. Like you ... never worked out with the women." he looks at him, evenly. "But that's okay too, you know. Not everyone is suited to the so called normal life of marriage, hearth and home." he sighs. "Anyway I had better get back to my schematics. I'll come back here .. not like I have anything to pack ...."

Arroz Arum: nods to him, "Take the upstairs, it's tidy.  I'll sleep on the old couch. I like it, it's comfortable.  Do you cook?  If not I have a replicator coming. Or we can go to the cafe sometimes, if you prefer." Smiles, "That's an idea... have our own business? Something to think about," he doesn't really think it will happen, it's just idle chat. He looks around, "I have a lot to do in here. But hey... there are some spare clothes upstairs, and you could have a shower, it' all set up."  He moves away, starting to root in another box. "Just have a look in the dressing room there, if you don't mind old stuff, there's a ton of my Father's farmclothes there." He gets to work.

=^=

The Voyage Home

=^=
TO: CO­ SS ASTRAIOS
OIC­ ASTRAIOS COLONY SECURITY
OIC­ ASTRAIOS CID

FROM: Ens Arroz Arum, Security
STARDATE: 150411

SUBJECT: CID CASE 2413­03/1
=========================

Away Team to N'doto Moon on outskirts of Takaar Nebula included myself and Detective Evan Torg APF. Through questioning of the granite natives, we were led to one Latite Porphyry, the female acquaintance of the deceased Slate Talc. She was removed to the Gati jail through cooperation with Babu Chuku. Dect Torg interrogated her more completely as I sought medical aid for a serious condition that prohibited me from carrying out my duties for a few hours. The female remains in Gati brig pending extradition to Astra. Dect Torg to follow up with the legal matters that will bring her back to Astra. I continue to be unwell and have requested medical leave. My files have been transferred to Chief Security, and Dect Torg.

In service,
Ens Arum
=^=

Arroz sighs.  They are, at least, moving away from the nebula. He is sure it has some profound effects on humanoids, in fact, he remembers reading mission logs of the USS Neil Armstrong. That ship entered the nebula and he recalled the medical team advising some kind of injection to mitigate the possible symptoms. Nobody thought to give him one before he left Astra. He was just a little cog in a big wheel. 'Thank goodness at least this runabout has slipsteam drive," he whispers to himself, glancing at Torg, who is fast asleep in his chair.  Arroz looks to his PADD again, and begins to write...

=^=
TO: LTjg Nico P Caito
Colony Engineering Dept
Personal

FROM: Ens Arroz Arum, Security
STARDATE: 150411

Hey Nico I am on my way back from N'Doto. We found Latte and she's been questioned.  Definitely some suspicion there and they'll be bringing her back to Astra for further investigation. I fell ill when I was on Gati, or maybe before I left, pretty awful experience finding... well, you know. I've requested leave. I also found a message from my family that they've purchased a new summer house close to the Colony. They haven't moved in yet. I'm going to see the doc when I get back tonight, then head there for a few days. Just wanted to catch you up on the Talc thing. Must be hard on you.

A. Arum.
=^=

Deathly afraid

Arroz Arum sat ruefully on a chair by the science console on the runabout. Embarrassed the hell out of him, to get sick while questioning the suspect in a murder. But he’d felt off since getting to Gati, in fact, maybe even before. Seeing Talc’s dead body in a state of decomp outside the guy’s cabin on Astra, had made him ill twice. He’d put it down to the situation, but maybe he’d been coming down with something even then.

He felt slightly better now he was in the vessel and the ship’s gravity, which matched Astra’s, was normal to him. He’d changed his clothes, washed his face, brushed his teeth, taken something for nausea from the med kit.  What if it was something serious though?  Here he was, light years from home, finally in space after all these months of graft, and he had space sickness? Or was it worse. He checked his pulse. He’d tried the medical tricorder but it was fucking useless in this nebula. Some might think it’s colourful clouds twisting and turning was beautiful, it just made him queasy.

When he and Evan Torg had been looking for the ‘Blue Door’, Arroz had noticed a medical office. “Maybe there’s a doctor here.” He got up, took another drink of cool water, and pressed the button to open the runabout door. He walked through the village and past the buildings, ignoring the statue people, and trying not to look at the sky. Which way had it been?

Served Starfleet right if he had something serious and was forced to retire. On full pension.


Anjohl Morio chuckled as the little girl made a face at the taste of the medicine.  There wasn’t enough sweet sap on N’doto to really take away the bitterness of the bark once it was ground up.  But it would help her, he knew.

Her mother smiled at him as her daughter hopped down and they walked into the waiting room.  Morio held the clinic’s door open for her and the females moved out into the slowly brightening Gati day.  The mother spoke of trade in payment and Morio named a couple of vegetables in the greenhouse, where she worked.  Agreement reached, she took her daughters hand and headed into the Rainbow Hen building, where her store was, while the little girl skipped off in the direction of Gati’s miniscule school.

Going back into the clinic, he sat at the front desk, writing down the treatment and the payment received, his head bowed in concentration, always amused at the idea of using pen and ink.  The island was beautiful because of its lack of technology, he thought.  Even further back than Bajor before ….

He brushed that thought away and continued to write, dipping his rainbow hen quill yet again.


Arroz continued to walk through the pathways until he found the blue building again. He leaned against it for a minute, to catch his breath, peering inside the window. There was someone sitting at the front desk. Good. He opened the door with a flick of his wrist. There was an odd smell, but not too unpleasant. He looked around, seemed vastly different from the sickbays he was used to, but closer to what he might have seen in his hometown of Tachylyte. This was in the southern province of Keratophyre. As he thought of this he felt a thrill of fear run through him. Last year there was a huge epidemic at home, dubbed the KP virus by the media. Hundreds died before it was contained. He began to sweat. Starfleet had worked closely with Astraionian scientists and there was now an innoculation against the virus, which he’d been given almost as soon as it was ready, being Starfleet security. But what if it didn’t work? What if he’d come in contact with a carrier?  What if it had mutated? The vaccine wouldn’t work then. He could die!  He moved quickly to the desk, “I have to see a medic, quick!” he gasped.


Morio looks up when the door opens and a man stumbles in gasping to see a medic.  One look at the uniform tells the doctor that the man is Starfleet.  They’d been several reported, and as a result, Morio had been giving out all manner of medication to relieve anxiety.  It seemed they were more frightened at the idea of Starfleet than annoyed.

He stood.  “I am Doctor Anjohl.  Anjohl Morio.”  he introduces himself.  The man seemed pretty nervous.  He touches the man on the elbow and motions him towards an exam room, soft beds and a chair or two.  “What seems to be the problem ….”  he pauses, not being too familiar with Starfleet beyond his parent’s stories.  “Officer?”  he guesses.


Follows the Doctor, clutching at his chest,” Doctor Annnjohhll, I am sick, very sick I could have KP virus I come from there, on Astra you know they had an epidemic last year I threw up three times now in three days I feel so strange, it could be very very serious, please HELP ME,” he throws himself on a bed with despair, moaning, “I feel hot and cold, my heart is racing, my stomach is reeling, I feel dizzy.” He rattles off his symptoms, “names’ Arroz, Arroz Arummmm mpfh. Security Officer,” he adds in a weak voice. “Am I going to die?” he goes still, body limp on the bed, pleading eyes on Morio.


Morio watches the man and suppressed a grin.  He somehow reminds him of some of his child patients.  Listening, he straightens the man on the hospital bed and takes his pulse with his fingers.  It’s elevated, but the man seems to be in a state of extreme agitation.  He reaches for a thin piece of equipment and wraps it around Arroz’s forearm, then looks at the readout.  Confirming that his pulse was a bit high, but adding to that his blood pressure reading and body temperature.  Looking down at him and giving him a confident ‘I am a doctor you will be alright’ look, he notices a few beads of sweat, but … the man seems to be thinking himself into some kind of plague virus like the one on Astra.

“Well, you seem pretty anxious about having this plague.”  he tells him.  “But my guess is that it’s something else.”  he turns around and looks at some of the bottles around the room.  Deciding on one, he shakes out a lavender square pill that is about an inch on all sides.  “This should take care of your nausea.”  he tells him.  “It’s a local herb we compress and turn into these cubes.  Lie back and roll it on your mouth.  It will melt there in about a minute.”

He hands the man the pill and then stands over him, waiting for his orders to be carried out.  “Now tell me about your last … oh … say … week or two …”  he orders.  “You’re showing some very classic symptoms of severe anxiety.”  he tells him.  “Now if you’re security and don’t want to tell me details about some case, then don’t, but at least tell me if you’ve been under an unusual amount of stress lately.  My guess is you have been.”  he waits for the reply, still looking completely confident in his ability to help the patient.


Arroz lay in flaccid despair, dimly aware of the doctor moving his limbs, attaching some kind of device to him. What can be done? They’ve sent him to this odd little moon in the nebula from hell, no ship in sight, no hope of a proper sickbay or even a properly trained medical doctor. This is some rustic guy who writes with some kind of odd spitting feather. He can’t possibly know anything at all. He groans but take the square and puts it in his mouth, wondering where it has been, who has touched it, and whether it will make him sicker instead of better. All these germs everywhere. “Hundreds of people died from KP before they found the vaccine. I saw people from home just last week. And I miss home. I don’t like Starfleet. The recruiter told us we’d be exploring space and helping the helpless but all I do is sit in an office and do rounds and I don’t really like space anyway Doctor, I really don’t. And now I had to look at a dead body, and I mean really really dead like for DAYS and it STANK and lord knows what germs or rodents or fleas or bugs were on it or near it and I’ve been sick ever since.”


Morio listens to his patient ramble on.  He keeps his face relatively impassive, but he learns a great deal from this young man.  Even though he had not needed to, Morio had learned a great deal about psychology during his medical school days.  As he has suspected, it helped him a great deal with his patients.  Smugglers and pirates who didn’t want to tell him where they had been, never mind who they had been transporting.  An indigenous population for whom placing a cast on a broken arm often means doing things he once considered only while helping his grandfather put together an outdoor oven.  He even had a patient who claimed to be human, avoided him as if he were in infections Bajorian disease, and from a distance, seemed to heal twice as fast as he had any right to.

“Arroz, if you don’t like your job, why not just ….  quit?”  he asks simply.  “Because it is my professional opinion …. and I went to one of the best civilian medical schools on Earth …. and graduated third in my class, I will have you know …”  it was a source of pride for him…. although he did not finish first, neither did he finish in the middle or at the bottom.  “That is might just be your job that is making you sick.”  he looks at him evenly.  “This is your first time off your home world, isn’t it?”  he asks, softly.  Almost paternally, even though he is only about thirty-five years old.  He pauses and watches him.  “How are you feeling now?  Stomach any better?”


Arroz sits up, the bed creaking slightly. He shakes his head at the doctor, “Not the first time, not really, because I had cadet cruises to do, you know, on that old rusty ship they call the Pemmican what a name I don’t even know what it means never mind how to spell it, but you had to log a certain number of hours each year to get your helm certification which you need as security so I had to do a lot more than my friends and I couldn’t go outside the system though without an escort and sometimes we were grounded because of tensions in the sector with places like,” here he lowers his voice, “Treman. I don’ t think I’m allowed to quit, I have to do some years don’t I or I lose my pension, I don’t really know all the rules I fell asleep in that class and I didn’t really care at the time because I was going to be like Worf or Major Kira and be one of the finest security officers ever. You came from Earth? That’s a HUGE distance away why would you come here,” he throws up a disdainful hand, adding, “I feel hungry.”

Morio understands he must be feeling better when he sits up.  “Pemmican.”  he then goes on to spell it for him.  “It’s a concentrated mixture of fat and protein used as a nutritious food. The word comes from the Earth Indian tribe called Cree word pimîhkân, which itself is derived from the word pimî, "fat, grease".  It was invented by the native peoples of North America on Earth.”  he explains.  “They used … well whatever they could lay their hands on … meat and fruits … dried .. stuff lasts a good long time and doesn’t taste too bad either, from what I’ve read.”  he realizes he is rambling.  He sighs.  “I know what Treman is, I know where Treman is and …”  he lets out an exasperated sound.  “And I wouldn’t be presenting myself to you like a complete rube backwoods country doctor if they weren’t having another of their damnable coups.”  he inhales and exhales slowly, calming himself.  “I suppose you should be able to quit.  Starfleet is always on about how they want freedom for everyone.  That should include their own personnel, shouldn’t it?”  he chuckles when he mentions Major Kira.  “A Bajoran legend.”  he murmurs, although what he knew of her, he sometimes had a hard time believing she was really a woman.  “I went to Earth from Bajor and …”  he shrugs.  “By the time I was done with school there, I did a short residency on Deep Space Nine …”  he shrugs again.  “Then I became alienated by my own people, and Starfleet and … just … wanted to be someplace where I could actually help.  I found this place completely by accident, but there was a minor epidemic going on here at the time that I helped end.  All those nights reading on homeopathic and herbal remedies finally came in handy.  I still use the modern stuff … when I can get it … but …”  he stops himself again.  “I’ll tell you more over a dinner.  My treat.  Then I will send you back to your ship to finish whatever it is you are here to do.  We’ll have some rainbow hen soup.  Very delicious, very filling and very mild on the nervous stomach.”

=^=