Erratic Nerd Writings

{{Made one slight change to Chapter 5 after realizing I made a mistake.  Wonder if anyone will notice? ;-P Onward to Chapter 7!}}

Kanor sat down at the desk in his quarters, the Federation parcel that had prompted this whole ordeal in front of him.  It had been silent in his quarters after his spat with Cypher in the shower.  She was angry, and he understood why, but didn’t know how he could rectify the situation.  He was committed to giving her some sort of physical presence, some form of body.  He believed it was the best thing for her in her personal development as a lifeform, without question.  He did his best to put the issues aside.  Her flinging the word “master” at him had stung, but he needed to be prepared for this upcoming meeting with Kaz and his senior staff. 

While he didn’t normally bother investigating things he was retrieving for a job, beyond what he would need to for completion, this was larger than it had initially appeared.  He had put on a clean jumpsuit before coming into the office, and had replicated himself a “hamburger” after reassembling the machinery parts he had disconnected.  The sandwich was smaller than he had expected, but the taste was acceptable, if a bit uninspired.  The “toppings” that had come with it seemed unnecessary.

He unlocked the seals on the case, and started pulling things out.  A few PADDs, a data storage device, an identification chit, and what appeared to be an interactive holographic display.  He picked up the latter first and activated it.  Sure enough, the hologram of a world was projected into the air above the device, though it wasn’t one Kanor recognized.  There was no ID tag of its name, either, but there was a marker placed on the globe along the equator, along the coast of one of the larger body masses.  Tapping on it, the view zoomed in to what appeared to be a somewhat standard Federation settlement.  Manipulating the image by grasping it with his hands, he maneuvered the aerial view to try and get a better view of the buildings, and understand the layout better.  It looked like a preliminary colony; mostly agriculture, very little industry, lots of residential buildings, some basic defenses.  There didn’t seem to be any coordinates or names attached with the hologram, so Kanor shut it down so he could move on to the other items.

He grabbed the identification chit next.  He was about to place it in the appropriate port on the Enterprise computer at the desk to read what it said, when he realized he had yet to secure the computer.  He frowned.  Setting up a new base of operations, even a temporary one, was endlessly frustrating.  Retrieving his toolkit, he pulled out a specific isolinear chip and connected it to the Enterprise computer to begin securing the terminal.

After that was finally finished, Kanor retrieved the isolinear chip, and inserted the identification chit.  Immediately, a profile screen pulled up.  It featured a Zaranite; whether it was male or female was hard to discern from the picture due to the breathing apparatus that covered their face.  His eyes shifted to the text alongside the picture.

“Ambassador D’larin (retired); Prime Huntress of the future Zaranite colony in the Zenas Expanse.”

There were multiple official seals, Federation and Zaranite the only two he recognized, accompanied by signatures.  The Federation’s was the reigning President in office.  From what he could determine, the Ambassador was retiring to lead up the colony the Zaranites were sitting up on this planet; this was the paperwork showing the multiple levels of government that were giving her that authority.  While the identification chit was mildly valuable, it wasn’t worth setting a bounty on.  Sure, the document could be altered to give that recognized authority to a different individual on a different planet, even; but the effort required for the forgery wasn’t really worth it.  Especially since the Zaranites, long-standing members of the Federation but by no means powerhouses, rarely set-up new colonies.  Their unique respiratory systems, which relied on a heavy concentration of fluorine-rich microorganisms, made worlds they could live on without additional breathing apparatus rare.  If someone tried using this, altered or no, it would draw a lot of unwanted attention.

Whatever someone had wanted from this container, it didn’t make sense for it to be the chit or the hologram.  There had to be something more.  He looked at the data storage device, and the PADDs.  No telling how much information that storage device would have on it; he’d save that for last.  He picked up the first PADD and started sifting through the information on them.

Over an hour had passed before he looked up again, surprised at the chronometer that the desk computer displayed.  He had only gone through about half of the PADDs; skimming mostly, but several sections in the documents on the devices caught his eye and made him stop to read more intently.  Most of his scientific and technological expertise he focused on things that were in his realm of interest; weapons, personal defense, tactics, computer systems.  However, he was well-versed on the base concepts of a broader scope of topics; so he was at least able to comprehend, if not fully grasp, what he was reading.

The majority of the documents were focusing on outlining revolutionary new terraforming techniques the Zaranites had developed after years of research.  They were specifically designed for their own unique biological needs on planets, yet the basic concepts of their advances could be adapted to suit other species without many changes.  Apparently, the Zaranites had been searching for a suitable site to field test these techniques for a couple of years, now. 

“Well, it looks like they found you…but still, the question remains, who cares?”

The relatively easy adaptation for other species would undoubtedly explain the Federation’s interest and heavy involvement, but the techniques were certainly no Genesis device or anything.  It was a big deal for the Zaranites; if the experimental methods ended up proving successful, it would drastically alter their ability to populate the stars.  The Zaranites were such a relatively minor race politically, though, Kanor couldn’t fathom why anyone would want to bother attempting to stop them.  Maybe the race that inhabited that ringed ship wanted the technology to adapt for their own needs; but he had a hard time believing they were capable of a feat such as that vessel, yet needed to resort to stealing this.  Sure, it could be just that simple, but Kanor still felt the need to dig deeper.

He got up to get some water from the replicator and move around a little.  He had been avoiding talking with Cypher during all of this, though he knew she was watching.  He took a sip of water as he walked around in the living area, then steeled himself.

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Master?”

His jaw tightened at her continued use of the noun.  She needed to act her frustration out, however; he couldn’t deny her that.

“What do we know about a Federation Ambassador D’larin, recently retired?”

“Nothing more than what you have discovered going through the contents of the parcel so far.”

“Are you able to access and utilize the Enterprise’s computer systems without risking your discovery?”

“As long as this one does not attempt to alter key systems or intrude upon the barriers surrounding the watchdog AI, this one believes so, yes.  If this one were constrained to the limits of a physical body, this one would undoubtedly require a hard line connection that would be significantly more difficult to secure.”

Kanor rolled his eyes.  Now she was referring to herself as an impersonal object, too.

“Alright, I want you to access the Enterprise’s databanks for any information they may have on D’larin.  If you cannot find anything significant, attempt to piggyback any subspace transmissions to access larger networks, but only if you’re certain you can do so undetected.”

“Affirmative, Master.  This one will update you as needed, or, at the latest, give you an overview of my progress before you depart for your meeting with the Enterprise crew.”

He spoke through clenched teeth.

“Thank you.  Alert me of the time and issue your report no later than 1240 hours.”

“As you command, Master.”

Kanor tossed the remainder of the water back and scowled, biting the retort back while trying to stifle his ire.  She would get over it, eventually.  He hoped.  They had never had an argument of this nature before.

After relieving himself in the lavatory, he returned to the office and picked up a new PADD.  More reports from varying Zaranite scientists detailing the progression of different projects concerning the new methods they were developing.  This one seemed more current than the others he had been reading, and appeared to be the culmination of all of the lab work they had put into the effort.  There was a transcript of approval from the Zaranite Hierarchy to proceed with a small scale and controlled live test, as well as mention of petitioning the Federation Council for beginning the search for a suitable uninhabited planet.

All well and good.  Standard bureaucratic dances.  Again, nothing that really hinted at a reason for this information to have been stolen.  He wondered if there had possibly been something else in the container originally that the pirates had removed; it seemed unlikely they would have guarded it like they were when he had boarded their ship, however, if that were the case.  He reached for the next PADD to start skimming over, sitting the first in the growing pile of PADDs he had already gone over.  This new one seemed to contain information about the planet he had seen in the hologram.  Initial surveying reports. 

“Now there’s something I didn’t see in the hologram…” he murmured.

Ruins.  A massive site, from what was described.  Kanor poured over the details, trying to extrapolate the scenario and read between the lines.  Everything else about the planet was ideal for their initial test site.  The evidence of a past civilization had demanded they investigate the planet thoroughly; any remaining intelligent life would have made the planet unsuitable for the terraforming and colonization process, so they had to be sure.  After they had verified there weren’t any remnants of the builders of the ruins-or any other ruins, for that matter-they had turned their efforts to investigating the one site more in detail. 

What followed were a series of photos.  At first, they were aerial shots looking over different parts of the location.  The first wide-angled shot of the entire site in its entirety made both of Kanor’s eyebrows rise, however.  A large, central ring; with multiple lines-some straight, some curved and squiggly-jutting out from it all around, almost like a sunburst.  While it was far too small to be the ship they had encountered yesterday, it was clearly of the same design.

That was it; there was the connection, finally.  The planet the Zaranites were planning on colonizing was, at some point in time, home to the same aliens that had been operating that ship yesterday.   At least they came from the same cultural background, if nothing else.  It still didn’t explain what, exactly, they wanted with the parcel: see what the Zaranites had been doing on their planet, trying to remove evidence of their existence?  It only seemed to open up more questions, but at least he had his connection.  This PADD still hadn’t contained the exact coordinates for the planet in question, so Kanor set it aside, apart from all the others, and started rifling through the remaining PADDs to find which one had the report where the planet had first been discovered.  He spoke without thinking.

“Cypher, I think I finally found the link tying all this together.  I think I’ll recommend to Kaz we go pay a visit to this colony in the Zenas Expanse, once I find the coordinates.  Did you find anything yet on that Ambassador?”

“Congratulations, Master.  As per your orders, this one first began with the Enterprise’s databanks for information concerning Ambassador D’larin.  Five days ago, a civilian transport vessel was en route from Earth to Zaran II, when it was attacked by pirates.  A crewmember and the Ambassador were killed during the altercation.  The description of the pirate ship listed in the article matches that of the ship you encountered with the parcel, and that of the description posted with the original bounty listing.”

Kanor’s temporary rise in spirits was dampened by the reminder Cypher was treating him like he was some sort of slave master.  She had, in many ways, been his only friend for a number of years.  He was used to thinking of her as a valued cohort, not merely some tool.  His shoulders unconsciously sagged.

“Ah.  Why was she using a civilian transport, versus an ambassadorial shuttle?”

“She presumably had retired and was on her way to her homeworld to take over as head of the future colony, though this is simply conjecture.  This one has not been able to determine her official state status, as this one has been commanded to remain inobtrusive.”

Kanor glanced at the chronometer.  About an hour before his meeting.  He needed something to do physically.  His argument with Cypher and the in-depth technical reading had left him restless.

“Thank you for your valued input and efforts, Cypher.  It’s no wonder I consider you my closest friend.”

She didn’t respond, though he hadn’t expected her to.  It wouldn’t be that easy.

“I’m going to head down to the Hunt, get that security camera assembled.  Let me know the latest update about the former ambassador when the time hits.”

“As you command, Master.”

Kanor sighed as he got to his feet and began repacking the Federation container.

                                                                           ****

Kanor left the cargo bay an hour later, one of his own style of covert security devices tucked away in his jumpsuit.  Cypher had been unable to determine much more about D’larin, other than that she had officially retired from her role as Ambassador for the Zaranite people.  Several things remained unclear; primarily, though, just how the aliens had first discovered what was going on, and how they knew D’larin would have what she did.  Hopefully he would find those answers in his continued searching of the material on those PADDs.

It was time to attend this meeting with Kaz’s senior staff.  He had run into both the Romulan officer Selorus and the young Trill Jax on his way down to the cargo bay, so he hoped it helped to solidify in the Enterprise crew’s minds he had left the parcel on his ship.  Now, the delicate act of informing them of what he had found while still keeping himself relevant and necessary for their purposes.

The turbolift was empty when he first boarded it, but a few decks later it stopped, and he found both Marcie and Jax waiting outside the doors when they opened.  Jax nodded somewhat stiffly in Kanor’s direction as they joined him, and Marcie smiled, though it faltered as her eyes drifted up.

“Kanor, you oaf, you’ve got stuff on your head…c’mere, crouch down some…”

Kanor frowned, but stopped his hand from lifting up; instead, he leaned towards her so she could reach.  He felt her fingers plucking at the hardened ridges on his skull.

“What is this, towel?  You shouldn’t scrub so hard with those, looks like you’re shredding them or something…”

Kanor scowled.  Remembering his earlier incident, he HAD checked in the mirror after his post-workout shower, but apparently he hadn’t gotten everything.  How was it her eyes were so much sharper than his; it was his forehead!  His eyes happened to glance over at Jax as Marcie smoothed her hand along his cranium, checking for any last bits.  There was a bewildered look on the Trill’s face, as well as something else he couldn’t quite place.

“Thank you.” he growled.

“No problem.”

The turbolift doors opened soon after, and the three of them stepped out to continue down the corridors of deck seven.  Jax seemed to step a bit ahead, but since Kanor didn’t really know where he was going, he was content to follow him.  He set his pace to match Marcie, instead, but she seemed mentally preoccupied, so he remained silent.

“There’re the stragglers now…what took you guys so long, ol Hairy Knuckles get lost, you guys have to whip the mule into the right direction?”

Jax made a strangled sound in his throat as he glanced over his shoulder, and when Kanor looked over at Marcie to see who Skid might be referring to, he saw her grinning at him.  In fact, everyone seemed to be.  He frowned, resisting the urge to look down at his hands.

“I do NOT have hairy knuckles.”

Skid smirked as she came up to clap him on the shoulder with her left hand.  “Coulda fooled me, boyo.  C’mon, everyone’s waiting inside already.  I was about to come lookin for you.”

“We are precisely on time.  You told me 1300 hours…”

Jax walked through a pair of doors into what Kanor assumed was the main briefing room; with Marcie, then Skid, not far behind him.  The doors appeared to be made out of wood, with an area in their joined center of transparent material.  The transparency was in the shape of an off-center arrowhead, pointing up, with a five-pointed star etched inside.  Kanor had seen something similar to it before representing the Federation’s Starfleet, but why it was adorning the Independent Fleet’s Enterprise, as well as the significance of the differences, he couldn’t begin to fathom.

He followed behind Skid, his eyes sweeping around the circular table that dominated the center of the small room.  It was well decorated, but seemed strictly functional.  No viewports, some flag off to the right side with a standard Kanor didn’t recognize.  Kaz was seated directly across from the door, and everyone else seemed to be gravitating towards chairs they were accustomed to sitting in.  Being the last one in, Kanor found the only empty chair remaining was one of the two immediately in front of the door.  His eyes darted around as his jaw tensed; he would be forced to sit with his back to the door.  That small little detail immediately put him on edge.

“Alright, now that we’re all here, I’m going to do a round of proper introductions, since we have a visitor.  I’m pretty sure everyone has met our current mission consultant, but this is the first time we’ve gotten to really sit down together in a long time.”

Kanor sat down in the chair reluctantly, his back ramrod straight.  Why was every damn chair on this ship so plush and…soft?  Kaz took a sip from one of the two glasses in front of him.  Then, after sitting it back down, gestured across the table to Kanor.

“This is Mister Kanor.  He will be collaborating with us on our current mission, and will be included in all communications and discussions about said mission that do not compromise Fleet security.  Mister Kanor will be staying aboard our fine vessel while we’re working together, and will also be conducting a series of security evaluations for our crew and our operating procedures.  I’ve chosen Skid to help Kanor in his endeavors, and ensure things run smoothly as he interacts with the crew.”

Kanor heard Selorus mumble under his breath about Skid being a paid escort, and Skid, sitting just next to the Romulan, promptly did something under the table that made Selorus wince and hiss in pain.

“I don’t give much of a damn about ranks, Kanor, but since we’re doing some formalities…”

He gestured towards the man sitting to his immediate right.  Kanor noted the presence of the chain dangling from his left ear and disappearing under the table; he might not have recognized Drei otherwise.  The long green spikes had been shaved off completely, and the top of his head was now devoid of any hair.  He seemed to have developed a full, neatly trimmed growth of facial hair that surrounded his mouth and chin, though, and was also dyed green.  Kanor couldn’t readily explain the sudden sprouting of facial hair so quickly.

“This is Lieutenant Commander Drei, our senior communications officer.”

Drei, who had been sitting back in the chair, his arms dangling off the sides casually, gave Kanor a rather dead stare and simply lifted his chin in Kanor’s direction.  Kanor assumed that was an acknowledgement, though it seemed insulting somehow.  Kaz continued around the round table with the person sitting to Drei’s right.

“This is Lieutenant Daniel Jax, our senior ship’s pilot.”

Jax, who was leaning forward, his hands clasped together tightly on the table in front of him, nodded his entire head in Kanor’s direction.

“Mister Kanor.  Nice to have you on our side, as it were.”

Kanor returned Jax’s head-bow, but didn’t respond, as his eyes moved to the person sitting on Kanor’s left, the other seat in front of the door.

“Lieutenant Commander Samantha O’Neil, our chief medical officer.”

Marcie gave him one of those room-warming smiles as she waved her right hand in his direction.  Kanor resisted the urge to grin back at her and return her wave; it somehow didn’t seem appropriate.  He shifted his gaze to the person on his immediate right.

“Lieutenant Selorus, our senior science officer.”

Selorus met his gaze, but offered no other signs of greeting.  Kanor had no problem returning the favor.

“And of course our chief engineer and my executive officer, Commander Skid.”

Skid performed some form of mocking salute with two of her fingers to her brow as she winked at him.

“Hairy Knuckles.”

Kanor snorted, crossing his arms over his chest as he averted his gaze, glancing down at the two glasses of liquid in front of everyone at the table.  Both were clear, though one seemed to have a slice of some green fruit he believed was called a “lime” floating along its top.  The glass in front of Kaz seemed to be missing its lime, though it seemed to have some sort of stick in it instead.  The liquid inside of Kaz’s glass was a medium brown in coloration.

“Normally, Lieutenant Sh’lan would be sitting where you’re at, Mister Kanor, but something tells me he won’t be able to make it today.  I don’t think he’ll mind lending you his chair for the time being.”

Skid, Drei, and Jax joined Kaz in chuckling at that one, though Selorus and Marcie didn’t seem to react to Kaz’s joke.

“Now, Mister Kanor.  Did you happen to bring the Federation case that was the object of our initial job?”

Kanor met Kaz’s gaze across the table. 

“I stopped to review the contents of the case before coming to this meeting, yes.  I will, of course, share the information I went over.”

Kaz’s lips pursed together, but he held up his left hand and gestured for Kanor to continue.

Not feeling comfortable sitting down, especially with his back to the door, Kanor got to his feet.  He proceeded to tell Kaz’s senior staff about Ambassador D’larin, the Zaranite colony project and their terraforming experiments, as well as the ruins they had discovered, and the pattern they were laid out in.  He intentionally left out details, but hit the main components. He also moved around the table as he talked, so he could keep an eye on the door, as well as look at everyone directly as he drew near.  He wasn’t surprised when Kaz immediately spoke up as he finished.

“Thank you, Kanor.  Please; sit down, relax.  So those donut-drivers didn’t want people poking around their past.  How’d they know where to get to D’larin, and was her death incidental, or intentional?”

Kanor noted Kaz knew D’larin was dead, though he hadn’t mentioned it himself.  At least the Commodore kept himself aware of the details of a mission, versus relying solely on his subordinates to do so.  Kanor respected that.  He tried not to show his discomfort at resuming a seated position too easily.

“I’m not sure.  When I boarded the pirate’s vessel, I encountered fairly competent professionals, hygienic matters aside.  Despite a surprise attack, they rallied quickly, responded effectively, and knew how to remain relatively calm during a fight and shoot well.”

“You know it’s bad when a Klingon is commenting on hygiene.”  Skid said.

Jax chimed in.

“Though I don’t think we had quite as difficult of a time as Kanor did boarding their vessel, I’d have to agree on his assessment.”

“Judging from that testimony, as well as the rather surgical attack on the transport vessel by the pirates, it would stand to reason they murdered the Ambassador because they were instructed to, not by happenstance.”

Kaz nodded at Selorus’ statement. 

“Alright, then.  So how did they know she’d be carrying that information?”

He looked around the room, then settled his gaze upon Kanor.  Kanor shook his head.

“I am still looking into all the contents of the package, but so far, nothing suggests they encountered any living remnants of the aliens or an existing civilization, which is why they were continuing with their plans to establish the colony there.  One of the ambassador’s aides seemed to be directly overseeing the surveying of the planet, and wrote several of the reports herself.  If I had to peg a weakness in the chain of security, it’d be her.  I was going to recommend we investigate the site of the proposed colony, see if there are any clues there.”

Selorus spoke up from Kanor’s right.

“I believe it is imperative we further study the aliens and their construct, as well as ensure we keep aware of their location at all times.”

Kaz nodded.

“I’ll be including both points in my report with Admiral Stapleton this evening.  Skid?”

Skid, having just emptied the contents of her container with the lime in it, licked her lips as she sat forward a bit.

“Selorus and I spent the morning going over the data those probies gathered before they were destroyed, and we’ve compared our findings with various public information archives, as well as the Independent Fleet archives.  We can’t find anything even remotely close to what we saw back there.  Ship design, if you can call that fookin thing a ship, has never been encountered.  And the bloody tech is unlike anything else, too.  I can’t even begin to wrap my soggy head sponge around how that thing operates.  No discernable engine area, no bloody front and back, even.  I might just consider offerin me left arsecheek for a chance to crawl around her insides.”

“Now Skid, what would you do with your right one?”

Skid smirked across at Jax.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I’ve been analyzing the recordings of those transmissions they made, as well.  They’re just…off, somehow.  The two signals were, at first glance, identical.  But when I started breaking them down to try and understand what sort of information they contained, several irregularities appeared that don’t seem to have any correlation with each other.  As if there was an element built-in that was specifically random and chaotic, which doesn’t make sense.”

Kaz nodded as Drei spoke, though Kanor got the impression he was hearing information he had already heard. 

“Get together with Skid and Selorus, see if they can offer any additional insight.  Jax, I want…”

“I would like to have access to the sensor logs from these probes myself, see if I can see anything…different.”

Kaz shifted his gaze from the Trill to look across at Kanor.  He seemed perturbed by the interruption, but inclined his head a little.

“Fair enough, though we’d better have access to these documents from the Federation package you’re going over as well.  Again, in case we can see anything…different.”

Kanor grunted mentally.  A request he couldn’t deny, if he wanted access to the sensor logs.  The Hunt wouldn’t have been able to pick up anything on that ship from inside the Enterprise’s shuttle bay; he would have to rely on their sensor data.

“Very well.  I’ll make copies of the pertinent data and send it to you as soon as it is complete.”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed at Kanor’s use of the phrase “pertinent data”, but he seemed to be willing to accept that, for now.

“Alright.  Send it to everyone in this room, then; we’re all on the same page.  Now, as I was saying, Jax, I want you to…”

Kanor glanced over to his left at Marcie, who so far hadn’t said a word at this meeting.  She seemed to have a device in her right ear, and was concentrating on a PADD she held in her left hand beneath the table’s edge.  Kanor craned his neck to see what was on it, but could only see what appeared to be some random lines and odd animated animals, symbols, and shapes.  The device in her ear seemed to be emitting some form of music, though he could only just barely make it out.

“…Mister Kanor?”

Kanor looked up to see the rest of the table looking at him; except Marcie, at least.

“I need you to work with Jax in determining where this colony planet was, exactly, in case we do end up going to investigate it ourselves.  I’m assuming you haven’t uncovered the exact coordinates?”

Kanor somehow stiffened in his chair even more.

“I did not.  Again, I haven’t gone over all…”

Kaz interrupted him, waving a hand dismissively in a way that Kanor found very irritating.

“Oh yes, you’re trying to do all the work yourself and discovering it’s not nearly as fast and efficient as an entire staff of professionals working together.  Very well, then; when you can, get with Jax and work on narrowing down the location so I have something other than ‘some fucking planet somewhere’ to go off of.”

Kanor’s eyes narrowed, his temper flaring at Kaz’s blatant brashness.  He bit back his initial retort, and forced himself to not rise to the bait.

“I have determined it is in the Zenas Expanse so far.”

Jax seemed to be surprised at that.

“All the way out there?  That’s out in Cardassian space, maybe even Tholian.”

Kaz’s eyes seemed to light up at the mention of the Tholians, Kanor noted.  The Commodore emptied the contents of the beverage container down his throat, then reached to pull the stick out of the glass.

“Well, when you get a probable location, make sure to find out what’s been going on in the local area for the past couple of months, I want to know what we might be flying into if things come to that.”

“Aye, sir.”

Kanor grunted in response, not about to refer to anyone as “sir”.  Kaz and Drei seemed to exchange a glance as Kaz held the stir stick to his lips and sucked on it in a fashion Kanor could only describe as overtly suggestive.  Drei’s grin spread from ear to ear.

“Any idea how long we will be back with the Fleet?”

Kaz drew the stir stick out of his mouth and returned it to his empty glass as he glanced over at Selorus.  Selorus, Kanor noted, hadn’t touched his lime-containing drink.  Curious, he checked everyone else’s, and saw Marcie had completely drained the other container, but also hadn’t touched the glass with the lime.  Jax was in the process of knocking his back, and Drei’s was empty.  He reached out for the one in front of him, holding it up to his nose with curiosity.

“The Admiral led me to believe we’d be going back out early tomorrow, but a lot of it depends on what decisions we come to based on my report.  I doubt we’ll be offering shore leave, let’s put it that way, as I plan on pushing for us to be back out as soon as possible.”

As he inhaled, Kanor detected the distinct scent of alcohol in the beverage he was holding.  He couldn’t place what kind, the scent of the lime was too strong, but at least that explained the enthusiasm Skid had downed it with so quickly. 

“That about do it, then?  I’ve gotta head down to engineering while I’ve got a chance, before we dock.”

Kaz held up a hand towards Skid as he looked around the table.

“Two last things.  First, with the forced absence of Lieutenant Sh’lan and his second-in-command, I’m making Ensign Ai Tsukinawa interim senior tactical officer, due to her level of bridge experience, while Ensign Munson will be the interim senior security officer, due to his lack of bridge experience.  Commander Skid and I will look into promoting a new security chief, though I’m planning on doing so away from Fleet space, citing the urgency of our mission.”

Kanor read the context behind that easily enough.  Sh’lan had been an outsider amongst a tightly-knit group Kanor was only beginning to make sense of, and possibly placed by this Admiral Stapleton Kaz was referring to.  Kaz wanted to avoid another outsider being forced upon him.

“Secondly, once Kanor sends out the information from this Federation package, I want you all to go over it thoroughly.  I want to make sure we’re looking at this from every damn angle we can, so I need all of your insights into this, however thin or farfetched it might seem.”

Kaz looked around the table slowly, making eye contact with each of them.  Marcie didn’t lift her head up from whatever she was doing on her PADD, but Kaz didn’t seem to be fazed by the behavior.

“Alright, we’ll arrive in Independent Fleet space by 1530 hours.  Until then, work on those assignments, and report back to me no later than 1400 hours.  Remember, no shore leave, but I’ll certainly be throwing a party for the whole crew tonight after I get back from that awful meeting with the Brass…”

“Balls.”

Kaz didn’t seem to miss a beat at Skid’s coughing, one-word interjection.

“…so make sure you’re ready to kick back, and bring your damn swimwear!”

Skid hefted her empty glass.

“And better booze!”

“Hey, I happen to like gin and tonic!” Jax replied.

“You would, Jockey!”

“Mister Kanor, if you’d stay a bit longer?”

Kanor looked across the table at Kaz as the others got up from their chairs and started heading towards the door.  Marcie, at the commotion, looked up from her PADD, then shut the device down and got to her own feet.  She shot Kanor a glance, smiled a little, then turned and followed behind Jax, who was talking animatedly with Skid.

“…why we couldn’t do that in the lounge, so much nicer in there, and we can usually enjoy the pool…ohhhhhh because of HIM…”

The doors slid shut behind Kanor, leaving the two of them in silence for a few moments.  Kaz took the time to withdraw a pack of cigarettes and his miniature flame-maker.

“I understand you attacked a trusted and valued member of my crew yesterday.”

Kanor squirmed in his chair at the accusation, his nose wrinkling as Kaz lit the cigarette up and inhaled deeply.

“She assaulted me in the corridor, I defended myself.”

“Just like you defended yourself against Munson upon my bridge, with a nerve pinch?”

Kanor’s lips compressed into a thin line.  He remained silent.

“Understand this, Mister Kanor.  We have entered into a business arrangement.  I am tolerating your presence aboard my ship because of said arrangement.  I was impressed by your apparent restraint concerning your temperament, especially concerning your societal background and upbringing.  That doesn’t give you free rein to blow off steam towards my crew whenever you feel like it.”

Kanor’s jaw was clenched, but he managed to force words past his lips.

“There may have also been certain…physical issues involved, as well as a great deal of misunderstanding.”

Kaz’s eyes narrowed as he studied Kanor, finishing his first cigarette, dropping it in his empty glass with the stir stick in it, then starting another one.

“Either way, don’t let it happen again.  You want to have sex with someone on my crew, by all means, go ahead.  Don’t kill them.  And don’t go picking a fight and being a fucking bully.  I fucking hate bullies.”

Memories of his own experiences flooded through his consciousness.  Had he become what he had despised growing up?  It twisted his gut in a knot, especially as he thought about his fight with Cypher.

“Agreed.  I…apologize.”

Kaz studied him some more over the curling cloud of smoke rising from his cigarette.  Kanor looked at him unflinchingly.  He did not apologize to people lightly, but Kaz was right; he had been bullying Munson.  Despite it being part of his instincts for interaction with other males of a physical nature, there was no excuse.

“I appreciate that.  I consider the majority of this crew a privileged family, Mister Kanor, and because of that, we’re like family with each other.  There are certain individuals, being jealous and envious of that, who try to break it up.  They try to force their brainwashed loyalty-blinded fanatics onto my ship, and then wonder why they just don’t fit in.”

Kaz tossed his second cigarette butt into the glass and drew out a third, but didn’t light it just yet; instead, he held it between his middle finger and index finger, gesturing with it.

“Sometimes, we can break through that brainwashing.  Rip off the wool over the eyes of those poor damn fools.  It doesn’t happen as often as I like, but it does.  That usually leads to our family growing stronger.”

Kanor reached for the other glass in front of him to examine as he listened to Kaz.  This one seemed to be water, so he partook of the beverage.  The situation Kaz was describing sounded fascinating.  Kaz, for his part, went to grab another cigarette from his pack, before realizing he still had one between his fingers, unlit.  It didn’t stay that way for long.

“My crew has better camaraderie and trust in each other than any other ship in the entire Independent Fleet; I’d stake my life on it.  That’s why we don’t focus on ranks here.  That’s why I encourage everyone to participate, why I want them to raise questions.  Hell, that’s why this table is round.  No head, no foot…round.”

Kanor held his glass of water as he glanced at the table they sat at.

“I was curious about that, actually.”

“Chain of command is important, issuing orders without fear of their not being followed is important.  However, if I ordered my crew to…say, attack and murder a transport ship full of children, someone better fucking disobey my ass and question my sanity.  That’s important, Kanor.”

Kaz placed his cigarette between his lips as he stood up, then reached up with his left hand to remove it and hold it again.

“My superior will most likely want to meet you once we’ve concluded our meeting.  For security reasons-yours, as well as mine-I’m going to make sure you remain aboard the Enterprise.  He will not be happy you were responsible for killing Sh’lan; despite the fact the situation demanded it.  I’d be very, very careful around him.  He can be a fucking idiot sometimes, but he’s a powerful fucking idiot, with a lot of resources at his fingertips.  He’s also got a worst temper than you, I’d wager, and certainly less restraint.”

Kanor raised his eyebrow at Kaz inquisitively as the Commodore circled around the table, stopping nearby as Kanor also got to his feet.

“Then why is he your superior, and why do you tolerate him?”

Kaz inclined his head as he took a final puff on his cigarette.  He reached past Kanor to drop the stub into Kanor’s glass with the lime still floating in it.

“He can be useful.  And, like I said, powerful and resourceful.”

Kanor woke up cold.  He didn’t normally move much at all when he slept; but Marcie, who was still in bed with him, apparently did.  She had turned over to face him in her sleep, had thrown her right leg over both of his, and had slipped her right arm around his torso, beneath his own left arm.  The new position had drawn her body even closer to his, and, as if the softness pressing firmly against his bare chest weren’t enough, the hand he had been resting innocently over her stomach previously was now draped over her right asscheek.

He adjusted his hand to a position at the small of her back guiltily, his eyes shifting to look at her.  She had nuzzled her face into the inner area of his shoulder, just above his armpit.  The effect was almost comical, as part of her face was scrunched up because of it.  She was oblivious, though; still fast asleep, her lips parted just slightly as she breathed in a shallow, steady rhythm.  He had never watched anyone sleep before, other than his mother a few times, back while she was still alive, during his childhood.  Certainly not since reaching adulthood.  It was an intriguing circumstance; she was completely oblivious, utterly vulnerable in every possible way.  Even though they had just met hours ago, at the death of one of her crewmates at his hands, she had put herself into this situation with him because she stated she trusted him.  Even when his assumption they were going to engage in sexual intercourse had come out, that he did, indeed, find her sexually attractive, she had simply taken him at his word when he told her he would not attempt to take advantage of her physically.

Such an act was unheard of in Klingon society, or at least what he had experienced of it.  A couple laid together if they were going to have sex; if absolutely necessary, warriors might lie against each other to conserve heat in extreme frigid environments.  No one ever laid together for the simple act of actually sleeping together.  Usually, if they even stayed together through the night, couples would begin the next day with another vigorous round of mating before parting ways.  It was expected-customary.  And if someone was “taken advantage of”, it was because they proved too weak to turn away the stronger, and submitted; that was simply the way things were.

The blind trust and faith she placed in him was a glaring tactical error, and, he couldn’t help thinking, a blatant display of weakness on her part.  Still, what she had said flitted across his mind again.  She was right; this WAS nice.  Possibly even pleasant.  The warmth of her body, while much less than his, was an enjoyable sensation.  The presence of her female anatomy, even if he had not gotten to experience her fully as a woman, was also enjoyable.  Seeing her like this was rather endearing, and the difficulty in falling asleep he had experienced almost seemed worth it.

She shifted silently against him, her head tilting back against his arm, and his eyes were momentarily drawn to the unhindered motion beneath her shirt.  He had been effectively holding her backside earlier; he could probably do so again, or even wander to other areas, properly enjoy the tactile sensation.  His jaw tightened as he stayed his hand.  He couldn’t do that; she was not a Klingon, she wouldn’t have the ability to turn him away even if she tried.  More importantly, she had placed a rare, innocent and naïve trust in him he had never thought possible before; he couldn’t bring himself to betray that, it seemed too…pure.

He had to get out of bed.  He wasn’t sure what time it was, but he was wide awake, and wouldn’t be able to fall back asleep, now.  It was probably best he did not luxuriate in this “cuddling” operation, either, or else urges might overcome him.  His gaze swept over the situation again.  Extraction was going to be extremely difficult; she was wrapped around and against him.  He began by carefully taking her right arm in his left hand and moving it off of him…

Marcie inadvertently helped him during the process by making a frustrated whine of a noise and turning over away from him.  The motion left him disentangled from her completely, yet she still seemed to be sleeping.  Mission accomplished!  He rolled backwards off the side of the bed and got to his feet, stretching his body and moving his limbs as he tried to work out the stiffness.  He glanced at Marcie, who was in the process of drawing her legs up closer to her body, and turned to head into the lavatory area. 

The curved door of the lavatory complex opened straight onto the separately enclosed sonic shower, but Kanor turned to his left, past the partial partition, to relieve himself.  After he was done, he glanced at the closed door that led back out to his quarters to ensure it was still closed.

“Cypher.”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“What is the time?”

“0437 hours.”

“That was certainly not something I was expecting to happen.”

“Indeed.  I am surprised you allowed her to stay in your quarters for the evening.  She could be the individual who planted the recording devices.  She also could have been sent to kill you while you slept.  This was a glaring tactical error in judgment.”

Kanor frowned at her response, his own unvoiced thoughts concerning Marcie earlier now directed at him via Cypher was annoying.  He made sure to keep his voice down still, just in case.

“Your observation is noted.  How do I get rid of her?  I cannot leave her here while I bodyslide down to the Hunt.  And if Skid arrives before she has left, it could lead to…complications.”

“In actuality, you should not have left her in the living area with all of your weapons and gear, out of your sight, while you entered the restroom unarmed and unclothed.  You could be walking into an ambush.”

Kanor’s eyebrows rose up as he stood in the middle of the bathroom, dumbstruck.  Why HAD he simply strolled off, leaving this strange woman he really knew nothing about alone with all of his things?  He was a warrior, yes; he was not afraid of a lone human female in her sleepwear.  Still, he was committing the very same type of mistakes he had accused Sh’lan of just yesterday.

“I…am not afraid of her.  If she is, indeed, going to attack me when I depart the lavatory, I am confident in my ability to subdue her with minimal difficulty.”

“Hubris, Kanor.  It is disappointing to witness in my creator.”

Kanor scowled, biting his retort off. 

“Again; how do I get rid of her?”

“If you survive exiting this bathroom, and she is still asleep, you wake her up and inform her she must leave.”

Cypher’s inflectionless voice and matter-of-fact statement made Kanor’s teeth flash in annoyance.

“Fat lot of help you are!”

“You posed an interrogative statement; I supplied the simplest, most logical response to it.”

Kanor dropped into a partial crouch as he pressed his back against the wall. 

“Shut up.”

He made his way over to the doorway, and then triggered the sensors that opened the door automatically with his foot, quickly drawing it back beneath his body.  No weapons fire, no bladed weapons thrown, no punches, kicks.  The door hissed shut again after a few moments.  Kanor gathered himself, repeated the maneuver with his foot again, and then quickly peeked around the doorframe to glimpse into the living area.  In his partial crouch, it was much lower than his head would have normally appeared around the frame, but even as he drew back to process the scene safely, he frowned.  At the lower height, he was unable to properly see if Marcie was indeed still asleep in his bed.  He could confirm, however, she was not visibly anywhere else in the room; though, if he were in her place, he wouldn’t be either.  He’d probably position himself in the foyer; she could be in cover, while still maintaining direct sight onto the lavatory door and the rest of the living area.

He backed away from the doorway and straightened up.  He made his way around the cylindrical sonic shower area to the far wall of the bathroom, and then approached the doorway leading out to the living quarters again.  He would have a better vantage point of the bed from this side, and hopefully it would throw off anyone drawing aim near where he had last appeared.  He triggered the door to open a third time, quickly looking out once again at his normal height level.  She appeared to still be in bed, her black hair contrasting with the white sheet on the pillow, though she had pulled up the oddly colored top sheet to cover her body.  It could be a ruse, but he would have to chance it.  Steeling himself, he triggered the door one last time and dove out, going into a roll that brought him up to the side of the bed.  He waited a couple of moments, listening.  He heard movement from atop the bed, rustling; but the rest of his quarters remained silent.  The movement on the bed stopped, so Kanor lifted his head to peer over the edge.

Marcie had rolled over onto her stomach, but had turned to look in his direction.  While her head was underneath his pillow, he could still see her groggy-looking face frowning at him with annoyance.

“Are you always this noisy when you wake up to go pee?  Why are you on the floor?”

“I…no, I’m not, but…I was simply…practicing.”

Marcie’s brow furrowed, clearly not really buying his answer.  She rolled partially onto her left side, lifting up the sheet with her right arm towards him.

“Well stop fooling around and get back in here.  Now I’m all cold because you left.”

Kanor blinked, but found himself straightening up and sliding under the sheet as she demanded.  Their bodies slid close to each other, Marcie’s left arm sliding under his head, her right arm and leg looping around him.  His own arms encircled her, hugging her closer against his chest.  It felt very warm, and…extremely comforting.  He barely even noticed that tingling sensation where their bare flesh came in contact.  Marcie burrowed her face into his chest with a sigh.

“Mmmm…that’s so much better.” she murmured.

What was he doing?  She needed to leave, not fall back asleep in bed with him.

“Marcie, I uhm…well, need to shower, as you mentioned, and…”

“What time are you meeting up with Skid?”

He glanced down at what he could see of her face; her eyes were closed, her face expressionless.  How had she…?

“0700.”

She seemed to nuzzle her face and body against him, and he felt the hand she had draped over his side starting to stroke along his back idly.

“And what time is it now?”

“Uh…approximately 0445, 0450?”

She smiled against his chest.

“Perfect.  That gives me an hour to enjoy a nap with you before I have to go, okay?”

Kanor’s eyebrows rose.  He supposed that would give him enough time to prepare himself for his workout, as well as get the Federation parcel from the Hunt and temporarily hide it in his new quarters.  Meanwhile, he was “cuddling” with Marcie innocently for an hour.  His mouth decided to answer before his mind could really come up with a response.

“Okay.”

                                                                           ****

An hour and a half later, Kanor was sitting on the edge of the bed as he slid on his ankle boots.  Unlike the traditional Klingon boot, these offered less armored protection to his feet, but allowed him to move with much better speed and stealth.  Much like his armor, while not up to the Klingon Defense Force standards, gave him more range of movement and weighed less, but would not allow him to bull his way through as much as a typical Klingon warrior.  He had to design his own gear when he had taken up the profession he had, coming from the culture he did.  It suited him, though.

He stood up and slid on the left gauntlet of his armor with the interface built into it.  Marcie had left just as she said she would an hour later.  Since then, he had showered, dressed, and eaten a small Vulcan dish as a quick breakfast.  He would not be eating it again, at least not from the replicator.  Now he had to go grab the Federation parcel.  He found his mind wandering back to the events of last night and this morning.  Did humans engage in this “cuddling” activity often?  He had never heard of it before.  Surely his mother would have mentioned it at some point if it was such a popular activity.  He could see why his father wouldn’t have; but surely his mother.  Was it something only friends did with each other?  Maybe it was part of the friendship ritual for humans.  Marcie was now his friend officially.

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“What is the status of the docking bay for the Hunt?”

“It still remains empty.  The recording devices for the docking bay remain intact, of course, but I do not believe they are standardly set to scan inside the ship for lifesigns.”

“Excellent.  Remind me at the 0650 mark.  Bodyslide by one, home.”

“Affirmative.”

The quarters aboard the Enterprise were replaced by the interior of his small ship by the time he opened his eyes again.  He wasn’t sure why he kept them closed during the teleportation process, but it simply seemed like a good idea at first, and it was a habit now.  The air aboard the Hunt seemed a bit stale already; apparently his atmospheric filters were in need of replacing and he just hadn’t noticed.  Everything was as he had left it, and he verified the inner airlock doors remained sealed as he had left them.  No one had managed to sneak onto his ship somehow.

He immediately went over to where he had hidden the Federation parcel.  He had intended on going over its contents before Skid arrived, but Marcie had thrown a bit of a kink in his plans.  Still, it wasn’t something he absolutely needed to go over first.  Opening the hidey-hole, he withdrew the Federation case.  Again, he was struck with how effortless grabbing this thing had seemed at first.  This ordeal was going to delay him much longer than he had anticipated, even on a worst-case scenario.  The parameters had changed too much.  Sitting it at his feet, he called out to Cypher again as he started replacing the hide.

“Cypher, pull up the to-do list.  Read off top five items.”

“One-shift funds from bounty into normal asset channels.  Two-meet with the Ferengi Gaila aboard Deep Space Nine.  Three-complete and test the Cypher-voice emulation software.  Four- run monthly diagnostic on the Hunt’s navigational suite.  Five-establish Project Avia…”

Kanor restored the hide, and then waved his left hand at the unseen Cypher as he grabbed the Federation parcel and stood up. 

“Alright, alright.  Update: clear off One, shift Two up and replace as ‘contact and reschedule meeting with Gaila’.  Shift Three to Two, and shift Five down.  Replace Three as ‘Retrieve and install new atmospheric filters for the Hunt’.  Replace Five as ‘Begin framework for Cypher-body’.”

“Affirmative.”

Kanor moved to take a brief visual overview of the ship, just in case.  Cypher’s further response surprised him.

“I am to have a physical body?”

“I want to look into it, yes.  It’d be…efficient to have someone to look at and visualize when I’m talking to you or conferring with you.”

“But you have not had anyone to look at or visualize while talking with me ever since you installed my audio receiving capabilities.  Does this help me become a better computer?”

“Cypher, by all rational means of thought I believe in, you are a sentient being.  While this…choice is motivated by own personal desire to have you be more than an intelligent, self-aware voice, ultimately, I do believe it will help you become a better lifeform.”

“But what constitutes the quality of a lifeform?”

Kanor’s lips tightened as he finished his brief look-over.  He usually enjoyed having philosophical discussions with Cypher, and this one in particular was something they SHOULD discuss.  However, the timing was truly quite poor.

“Cypher, what is the time?”

“0649.”

“We’re going to need to continue this conversation later, Cypher.  That’s not a question I can answer in short-form.  Bring it up again when we have time alone to discuss at length.”

“Affirmative.  It is now 0650.”

“Thank you.  Bodyslide by one, Enterprise quarters.”

Reappearing in his quarters, he moved into the foyer, reaching to pop off the access panel to his replicator unit.

“Kanor?”

He disconnected some of the internal parts of the replicator and shifted them, making more room.

“Yes, Cypher?”

“I am unclear on whether I want a physical body.”

Kanor sighed, disconnecting another component and letting it fall down.  There, that should be enough room…

“I want you to think on reasons why you would, and would not, want a physical body, then, Cypher.  Then, tonight, we can discuss them in-length.  When we have some time alone.”

He pulled up the Federation parcel and started pushing it into the space he had made inside the paneling.  He had to do some finangling, but he was finally able to wedge it in enough so that he could replace the outer access panel.  There, that should do it.

“Affirmative.  It is now 0655.”

He stepped through the transparent door to the office area as it opened up at his approach and started removing his armor gauntlet.  He saw the three surveillance devices, their three memory units beside them, sitting out on the desk where he had left them last night.  Dammit.  He had just gotten the gauntlet off and placed it with the rest of his armor on the “socializing” table in the office, when the door chime sounded.  Naturally.

He hadn’t spotted a transponder unit in any of the devices, but, just to be safe, he moved to put the two from the office area as close to where he had found them as possible while still remaining out of sight.  The foyer unit was slightly problematic, but he simply dropped it on the floor in that archway, and placed the Enterprise container his belongings had been in on top of it.  It would have to do.

The door whished open, as it chimed for the third time, to reveal Skid just outside with an irritated look on her face.  She was wearing a skintight, dark green jumpsuit that stopped Kanor dead in his tracks.

“Was beginning to think you had decided to sleep in for the day, bucko.  Those pointed ears make you hard of hearing?”

Kanor, dressed in the black, form fitting jumpsuit he wore beneath his armor, straightened his spine and clasped his wrists behind his back. 

“You were three point five minutes early.”

Skid snorted, rolling her eyes.

“Didn’t realize those extra three minutes were going to set you back.  Are you ready to go, then?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes swept over him briefly, and she hefted the grey towel she had in her left hand.

“Do you not sweat or something?  Where’s your towel?”

Kanor mentally kicked himself for forgetting it in his rush to get to the door. 

“Just a moment.” 

He turned and headed back to grab a towel, also grey, that he had thrown on the bed while getting ready earlier for his workout.  When he turned around, Skid was in the process of squinting up at the access panel on his replicator unit.

“I am ready.  Is there a problem?”

“Yeah, this access panel doesn’t seem to be on right…”

“I was irritated with the selection it contained and may have struck it.  I will ensure it’s not damaged when we return.”

Skid frowned at him as she turned away.

“Better not be.  Something’s not working, you smack that thing up right and proper. Gotta hit it JUST right when you do that. ” She shook her head.  “I’m not sending one of my boys up here to fix the bloody thing if it’s not working because you couldn’t keep your temper down, though.”

Kanor inclined his head towards her as he threw the towel over his left shoulder.

“It will not happen again.”

Skid made a noise, and he saw her face scrunch up as she looked at him.

“You uh…heh…you’ve got some towel on your forehead.”

Kanor frowned, turning his head to glance at the towel on his shoulder.

“Excuse me?  I believe you’re mistaken.”

Skid was grinning ear to ear, looking above his eyeline.

“No, no…not an entire towel, but um…pieces of one.  Like the threads.”  She bit her lower lip.  “On your skull ridges.”

Kanor reached up to feel the ridges that covered his forehead and continued back along his cranium partway.  Sure enough, he felt a few pieces of textile that matched the ship’s towels in the crevasses.  He scowled, growling in the depths of his throat, as he angrily brushed them away.  His nostrils flared as he managed to respond in a clipped tone.

“Thank you.”

“Oh, no problem…not one bit…now, off to the gym!”

                                                                           ****

Kanor, his arms held up to protect his face, his body crouched slightly, weight on the balls of his feet, circled around the octagonal shaped mat area, eyeing his opponent.  Skid, across from him, did the exact same thing, her eyes never deviating from his gaze.  They had both drawn their hair back into a tight ponytail, and had each inserted mouth guards.  They both wore light black grappling gloves, which left their fingers exposed from the middle knuckle out to the tips.

It had become clear early on in their bouts that Kanor relied more heavily on striking, while Skid was more of a grappler.  She had insisted while they were warming up she had recovered fine after yesterday.  In their first engagement, after unceremoniously bringing him down to the mat and forcing a submission out of him he was incensed to give, she had quickly made any reservations Kanor had about her condition disappear.  They had been very evenly matched since.  Kanor couldn’t recall a time he had found a female more captivating.

He also couldn’t recall the last time he had been pushed to his limits like this, either.  He clearly had a strength advantage over her, as well as reach and weight.  Still, she was incredibly quick; more importantly, precise.  While he had been able to prevent her from taking him down to the mat, and forced his own submissions out of her, every time she did get him down, she won.  They were both covered in sweat, breathing heavily, and displaying their blows proudly.

It was a “friendly” match, neither of them going for a knockout.  There was no one to take score but themselves, and rounds ended by submissions only, verbal or physical.  No time limits, everything on the mat.  They had been going for nearly an hour, with intermittent breaks interspersed as needed.  In an activity of such physicality, it was practically an eternity.

“The time is 0830 hours.”

The computer chimed from overhead to make them aware of the time just as Skid had instructed it to.  They both took a step back when it did, their stances shifting to more natural standing poses, albeit tired and sore.  Skid reached up to withdraw her mouth guard, multiple lines of saliva appearing from her lips to the protective device.

“Good practice, youngblood.”

Kanor was partially gratified that she was breathing as hard as she was, not that he had much room to talk.  He tried not to admire the movements of her chest too obviously.  She was physically magnificent.  That earthy aroma with a splash of wildflowers she exuded simply wouldn’t leave his nostrils.  He reached up to pull out his own mouth guard, spreading his arms out, palms up.

“Youngblood?  What does that make you, oldblood?”

She grinned, reaching up to start unfastening the glove on her right hand.

“You’d be surprised.  I’m older than you; I’ll leave it at that.”  She blew out a deep breath of air.  “Not polite to ask a woman her age, ya know.”

Kanor smirked, reaching up to start unfastening his left glove.

“You certainly don’t look it, or act it.   Besides, something tells me you’re not big on politeness.”

Skid snorted, yanking off her other glove.  She headed off the mat towards the door to the small room, depositing her gloves and mouth guard into the replicator slot along the wall just to the left of the entrance.  They disappeared in a brief shimmering as the device broke the items down into their composite molecules.

“Well, you’re certainly not the thickheaded brute I expected ye to be.”

Kanor followed her over to the replicator, depositing his own items in the alcove to be broken down before joining Skid in a cool down session.

“Hmph.  Well, I’m glad I proved your assumption individuals with ridges on their craniums are thickheaded or brutish incorrect.”

Skid grinned as she performed a series of stretches beside him, her head turning in his direction.

“Oh, I never said you’re not thickheaded or brutish, just you’re not as bad as I THOUGHT you’d be.”  Was it him, or was she purposefully angling her body like that, for his benefit?  “Been a while since I’ve been pushed.  Thought once I had ye where I could get some maneuvering room, you’d be just like Sh’lan.  All power and no finesse.”

Kanor began going through his own series of stretches, holding each for a few seconds.  That was a marvelous view.  He decided to be completely honest in his opinion of her prowess.

“Coming from you, that’s a high compliment.  I, too, was not expecting such a challenge when we started.  I have not faced a worthy opponent for quite some time.  You are very skilled.  Very rarely have individuals been capable of throwing me with the ease you manage to, especially given your stature.”

Skid shot him a heated look as she straightened up, shifting to a different pose.  Again, very enjoyable positioning. 

“I’ll pretend you didn’t just take a bloody stab at my height, which is only slightly less than human average, thank you very much.  For the record, you’re NOT easy to throw…but I have a fondness for getting physical with large men.”

Kanor’s eyebrow arched with the tone of voice she said that with.  He felt his blood trying to centrally course somewhere he did not want it to at the moment.

“The articles of clothing I came aboard with yesterday are the only articles I have currently.  Since this jumpsuit is going to reek of the ‘musk’ Marcie and you were discussing yesterday, I would appreciate it if we could detour to the cargo bay with my ship in it.”

Skid, finishing with her static stretches, grabbed her towel from the floor and proceeded to wipe herself down.  He noted her eyes were not on his face, though her head was tilted to one side as she gazed at him.

“Sure, walk will probably help us anyways.  You ARE free to go down there yourself, you know.”

He finished up his own stretching, trying not to think too much about how she was looking at him.

“I did not want to raise any suspicions.  Besides, then I wouldn’t have the pleasure of being accompanied by my escort.” 

Skid snorted, taking her towel in her left hand and quickly snapping him with it on his arm, making him flinch in surprise.

“Well let’s get on with it, then.  Time’s a wastin, darlin’.”

                                                                           ****

They stopped outside of his quarters after visiting the Hunt.  Skid had been curious about his ship, of course; while the questions had remained professional, he purposefully skirted around a majority of details.  The more surprises he had, the better.

“Kaz has called a meeting of the senior staff at 1300 hours, in the main briefing room on deck seven.  Since it’s concerning that flying donut back there, you’re to come, too.  Until then, I figured you could use the time to get settled.”

She indicated the small bag and case Kanor was carrying.  One was made of dyed Klingon leather he had made from his first kill as a child; clearly not Federation issue, and too small to fit the package he had retrieved from the pirates, which Skid was surely aware of.  The case was along the same lines.

“Thank you.  I enjoyed the chance to test out the Enterprise’s facilities this morning with you, it was very…stimulating.”

Skid’s eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief at that one.

“Feeling’s mutual, Youngblood.  My quarters are at the end of this corridor here.  If you’d like, I can stop by yours on my way each morning; the offer to join would be open.”

“I’d like that.  Perhaps we could even mix things up with some armed skills.”

Skid chuckled. 

“Oh, you do know how to entice a girl, don’t you?  Sounds like a plan, though one I’ll have to ease into.”

Her towel draped around the back of her neck, she started backing her way down the corridor, lifting her left hand to point at him.

“1300, deck seven, main briefing room.  Computer can show you the way if you want, just ask.  Don’t be late.  And bring that Federation doohickey along with you, too!”

Kanor neglected to respond, simply stepping into his quarters, which were designed to unlock when his biosignature was detected at the door.  Conducting a quick search, he determined things were as he had left them.

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“Anything to report?”

“Your quarters were not breeched physically while you were gone.  Judging by your activity with Commander Skid in the gymnasium, I have determined your fitness level could be improved upon, as it would appear to have become stagnant in the past year, perhaps even longer.  I have also determined I would not like the constraints and necessities an actual physical body would entail.”

Kanor rolled his eyes at her assessment of his “fitness level”, beginning to peel off the sweat-soaked jumpsuit.  The fact that Cypher had not waited until this evening to bring the topic back up was telling of its importance to her, however.

“Uh huh…and how, exactly, have you come to this conclusion?”

Cypher began detailing the list of pros and cons she had come up with while Kanor stripped down.  He took the leather bag into the lavatory area; past the toilet, sink, linen closet, counter, and mirrors to the left of the door and the sonic shower, to the walk-in closet that was situated at the far end.  He started unpacking the few clothes he had brought as they talked.  He was looking at a couple of months, max, aboard the Enterprise, he had estimated.

“And lastly, as if the material costs alone were not enough, the actual engineering feat of developing an android body and instilling an artificial intelligence within.  To date, the only known successful instances of this have been the Soong androids.  Not only has his process been, at best, difficult to recreate, Doctor Soong’s death was reported on stardate…”

Kanor finished getting his clothes unpacked, resting a hand against a high shelf he had stowed the bag away on.

“That is probably the most valid point you’ve brought up so far, Cypher.  I don’t want to lose you due to some hardware failure.  Once in a hardwired positronic neural network like that, your personality subroutines and algorithms would no longer be able to be reproduced.”

“You could always reload an older, saved version of my program.  However, this supports my earlier reasoning of my current virtual state of being as being superior to a limited physical form.”

Kanor sighed, exiting the walk-in closet and making his way across the bathroom to the aquatic-based shower and Jacuzzi tub, located across from the lavatory area door, behind the sonic shower.  He preferred the feel of actual water on his body as he bathed, instead of the sonic shower.  The sound of the sonics was irritating to his hearing.

“Cypher, that’s…that’s part of the experience of an organic lifeform.  Limitations.  If you were able to do anything and everything, with no constraints, life itself would be…boring.  Meaningless.  The experience is in DEALING with those limitations, learning to go on despite them, even learning to surpass them in some instances.  That’s what I meant when I said I think it would make you a better lifeform.  You’d have new challenges because of your limitation to a physical presence.”

“Using that line of logic, is not my lacking of a physical form its own limitation, its own constraint?  I must operate without the capability of a physical presence in the world.”

Kanor inclined his head, acknowledging that point’s accuracy.  He turned on the hot water; his showers were as hot as he could physically stand.  He liked the feeling.

“That’s very true, Cypher.  However, it’s a limitation of your creation, a limitation of circumstance, not design.   I wanted to hone your software before anything else.  I wasn’t even sure I could create an actual sentient, self-sufficient and self-aware lifeform when I started out designing you, I just…knew I had to try.” 

He withdrew a washcloth from the closet and stepped into the steaming shower, closing his eyes for a moment and happily hissing at the stinging sensation to his flesh from the heat.  Marvelous.

“Are not all organic lifeforms created with limitations of circumstance?  Birth defects, biological chance for prevailing attributes in the created?”

Kanor mulled that over as he began bathing.  He had never wanted to play at being some omnipotent god-figure.  He had the idea, the concept, for designing Cypher, and he had pursued it.  Much like a writer wrote a story, an artist created a sculpture or painting.

“They are, Cypher, but….”  He sighed.  “I think having a physical presence would benefit and enhance your experience of life more than it would hinder it; it would help define you as an individual.  Your absorption of experiences would not have to be limited to me.  You could choose where you want to go, SEE things through eyes other than mine.”

“I am currently monitoring the cargo bay where the Hunt is being held via its external surveillance systems, the office in your quarters aboard the Enterprise via the arm gauntlet you positioned on the table specifically for such a purpose, and your shower, via the contact in your left eye.”

“Exactly.  You are not the Hunt.  You are not an arm gauntlet.  You are not me.  You should have your OWN viewpoint, Cypher, your own unique…platform, if you will, to experience life through.  To call your own.  You deserve that much; it’s my responsibility to give it to you.”

“I do not wish to have such an outlet.”

“And I am going to make you one anyways.”

“Why?  You are imposing your will upon me, against my own wishes.  This is subjugation; this is, by the very own definitions you instilled to me, immoral and wrong.  You have stated on multiple instances the universal precedence that all sentient life deserves freedom, to live life of its own free will and design, as long as it is not imposing that will upon another.  Yet you are blatantly disregarding this very concept fundamentally.”

Kanor planted a hand on the wall of the shower and sagged forward, the immense weight behind that dissertation practically crushing him.  How could he help her to understand what he was trying to do?  Though her voice had no tone, no inflections, the…heart, the importance of this to her was clear.  He looked down at his feet, watching the water rivulets shimmer around his hairy toes for a moment as he tried to form words.

“Because the ignorant should know what they are giving up before they’re allowed to.  It’s easy for you to say you do not want a body, because you don’t know what you would be missing out on, you haven’t experienced it.”

“Your logic is flawed.  By this definition, everyone should experience being stabbed, everyone should experience dying, before they are allowed to say they do not wish to experience it.”

“This is different, Cypher.  A…a blind person, if they were never told about eyesight, would never miss it.  But if they experienced it!  Seeing a person they had come to love for the first time, seeing a…a vista of stars, a sunrise.  That would be priceless to them.  Something they wouldn’t want to give up again, if given a choice to.”

“Your logic is flawed.  Again.  You are not blind, nor have you been.  By your own statement, you cannot reliably ascertain whether or not a blind person would want to have sight, or keep it once given to them, because you have not experienced blindness yourself.  You are ignorant on the matter.  Just as you are ignorant of the experience of not having a body to exist in.”

Kanor’s fists clenched in frustration, and his heart ached.  This was a circular argument he wasn’t going to win; and, honestly, she was right, in her own fashion.  Yet, he was committed to doing this, to giving her this last perspective of being her own entity.  The irony wasn’t lost on him.  To give her the level of independence and self-assertion he felt would put her on equal footing with other forms of sentient life, he must first take it away and crush it.  It troubled him deeply.  Did the end justify the means he was taking to get there?

“I’m sorry, Cypher.  I’m a biological myself.  I am inherently flawed.  I can only hope someday  you’ll understand.”

“Then you are a hypocrite, and all of your teachings about morality and the importance of individual freedoms are meaningless.”

Kanor straightened his back as he bit his lower lip, unable to refute the reasoning process behind her statement.

“I’m sorry.”

“Understood, Master.”