Erratic Nerd Writings

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

He sat up in bed, sighing, his face contorting into a grimace as he had to reposition himself to relieve the pain in his chest.

“Why can’t I fall asleep.”

“I believe you are posing that question to the wrong individual, Kanor.”

At least she seemed to have stopped calling him “Master”.  He raised a hand up to wipe it over his face slowly, feeling the muscles of his face stretch with the passing of his fingers.  He stared at the foot of the bed, two lumps beneath the sheets indicating where his feet were.  The sight annoyed him for whatever reason; he found his face breaking into a scowl as he swiveled his body to rest his toes on that plush carpeted surface that served as a floor.

“What’s the time?”

“0217.”

Kanor had prepared himself a hearty meal after Skid had left, feeling a voracious hunger in his stomachs.  Not long after, his exhausted body had lulled him to bed at an early hour.  He had fallen blissfully asleep, but had awoken randomly not long after with the pillow wrapped up in his arms and pressed to his chest.  His gut churning in disgust at himself, he had thrown all of the ridiculous pillows off of the bed, where they still lay heaped up in the corner.  He had fallen asleep again after much painful shifting and maneuvering around, but it was a flitting state.  This was his fourth time waking up, for no apparent reason.  He considered sleeping on the floor; the “mattress” was so…soft, and pliant, he was amazed he had ever been able to sleep normally on it up until this point.  He realized his fingers were digging into the edge of the bed tightly and simply pushed himself to his feet, instead.  He needed some action, some movement. 

The pain of moving was becoming more tolerable, whether due to the drugs, his body healing, or that he was simply getting used to it, he wasn’t sure, nor did he care.  He felt cooped up inside his quarters.  Inside his current state of things, really.  He started to head towards the door out into the corridor before realizing he was nude; he had not observed public nudity to be a common trend aboard the Enterprise, though there were some exceptions.  He decided, to prevent drawing attention to himself, he would replicate some pajamas.  Besides, maybe Skid was correct; maybe he did need some diversity to his clothing selection, at least for societal purposes.

He settled upon a simple black tunic and black pants, though refrained from the suggestions of “slippers” the computer suggested.  The multitude of selection the Enterprise had for pajamas in her computer banks available for replication were largely ridiculous.  Once clothed, he stepped out into the corridor, going barefoot.  The corridor lighting dimmed slightly in the living quarters after 2200 hours, to at least create an illusion of “night time”, but everywhere else in the ship the lighting level remained at a standard level.  He wandered off randomly, no particular destination in mind, simply wanting to move, to do something physical.

While his body protested the movement with a cacophony of aches and pains, he felt a soothing of the unrest in his mind as he ambled through Enterprise.  The headache that he had noticed upon first waking up in bed with Skid-the heat of her flesh equaling his own as it was curled up and tangled with his body-wouldn’t seem to dissipate.  In fact, it seemed to be getting worse and worse; but again, he was learning to tolerate it.  The corridors were pleasantly empty, too; a nice change from the usual bustle of her crew during the “day” hours.  He passed by the multiple turbolifts along his way; instead, he had decided he’d utilize the often neglected and even forgotten about stairwell.  There was only one he was aware of, though it spanned the height of the entire saucer section.  The doors hissed open when he approached, right onto a landing.

He decided to go up.  The Lounge he had met with Stapes and Kaz at was in that direction; though he didn’t want to socialize (not that he had anyone on the ship he COULD socialize with, at this point), he felt the need to be in a large, unconfined area.  Look out on the vista of space while he was there.  That seemed to be someplace he could satisfy that requirement.  He heard muted noises further up; what sounded like someone’s voice, though he couldn’t make out specific words.  They were the first crew members he had run into since leaving his quarters.  He drew closer, then stopped in mid-step, his eyes going wide, as he rounded a flight of stairs and looked up at the two figures sprawled on the next landing up.

Ensign Te’ara, the Andorian female who had been navigating the Enterprise upon her return to the Independent Fleet’s space dock, was writhing up above, her bare blue flesh glistening with sweat.  Her stiffened antennae were quivering with obvious excitement atop of her head, unintelligible noises of enjoyment escaping her parted lips as her eyelids flickered.  One of Te’ara’s hands was stroking a bald woman’s head between her widespread thighs, the other hand clenching tightly around one of her own breasts.  Kanor was stupefied by the spectacle, but apparently made some sort of noise to draw attention to himself, as Te’ara’s eyes suddenly flew open as her back stiffened, her voice shrilling upwards on his name.

“Kanor!  Great Krotus, my night just became perfect…”

The Deltan woman, equally bereft of clothing, lifted her head and glanced back at Kanor, her face glistening.  She smiled seductively at him then winked, creating a twinge that seemed to shoot through Kanor’s entire body.  Te’ara, her blue cheeks darkening a bit, continued stroking her lover’s bald head as she bit her lower lip for a brief moment.  The blue hand she had been groping herself with instead shifted, offering that quite delightful looking area of her anatomy to him.  The Andorian woman’s eyes were practically blazing.

“Don’t just stand there, Kanor, come join us…Paia won’t mind, will you, darling…?”

The Deltan woman’s features seemed to dance with mirth.  In response, she simply shifted her body on the stairs below Te’ara, got on her knees, and spread her legs, her backside practically thrust directly towards him.  Kanor was quite certain she was also…very open to his joining them.  The stairwell had quite rapidly become suffocating.

It was without doubt an extremely pleasant offer the two of them made, and something he had never experienced before.  Even through the aches and pains, his body was practically screaming at him to jump in there and have fun with those two very willing and very attractive females.  Te’ara gasped as Paia resumed where she had left off before he had interrupted them, and in her narrowed-in-bliss eyes, Kanor could see the Andorian eyeing him lustfully, grinning at the reaction they were clearly having on his body.

He gulped.

He forced himself to put a foot on the next step up, then the other foot, and on up the stairs.  Past the Deltan’s remarkable backside presented to him with a very enticing wiggle.  Past the purple turgid peak Te’ara’s fingers were expertly manipulating.  Her hand abruptly reached out to grasp his hardness as he passed her, causing his throat to constrict.  The Andorian made a clearly excited, eager noise as she tilted her head back and opened her lips wide; whether from anticipatory joy in what she assumed he was moving to do, or because of Paia’s expertise, quite possibly both.  However, when he didn’t stop-when he clenched his eyes shut for a moment and simply kept putting one foot in front of another, out of the reach of her hand-that got her attention.

“Kanmmmnnn….Kanor…?  Where…where are you going, isn’t this why you’re…ohhh!  Why you’re here?”

The further away he got, the lighter the duranium plating that had materialized on his feet seemed to get, until finally he reached deck three.  Damn, but Deltan pheromones were STRONG.  He leaned against the bulkhead for a moment, trying to gather himself.  He had broken out into a sweat, and not from the exertion of climbing the stairs.

“Kanor, are you alright?”

Kanor nodded, though Cypher obviously couldn’t see him.

“Yes, just…whew.  Shaken, that’s all.”

“I’m detecting a greatly elevated pulse rate and a flood of adrenaline and endorphins…”

He could hear Te’ara’s exclamations of enjoyment carrying up the stairwell; the sound alone gave him chills.

“I’m fine, just…highly aroused.  Paia was a Deltan, and she was in the throes of a sexual fuckstorm!”

Cypher was silent as she processed that information.

“Deltans, when fully aroused in such a manner, are…”

The door leading from the stairwell into the corridors on deck three swished open, and a handsome young man stepped through, in the process of removing his tunic.  Upon seeing Kanor, his eyes flashed as he smiled broadly.

“Well, I’ve certainly gotten lucky right away…hi, my name is…”

Kanor’s eyebrows shot up as he held up both of his hands in a warding off gesture. 

“Nono, I was uh…just leaving.  There’s a couple of VERY attractive ladies below, however, who I’m SURE…”

The man laughed, giving Kanor a playful wink as his gaze dropped below Kanor’s waistline.

“Oh, I wasn’t coming here for ladies, handsome.  You look like you’re not ready to leave just yet…!”

Kanor’s mouth clamped shut as he forced out a smile.

“Well, thank you.  Like I said, just leaving.”

He slipped past the man and into the corridor, his eyes wide.  What was with people tonight?

“Maybe next time, then, sexy!  I’d LOVE to take care of that beautiful…”

The rest of his sentence was cut off by the closing of the stairwell doors.  Kanor barreled down the corridor, trying to put as much distance between himself and the stairwell as possible.  No wonder it was rarely used, if that’s what…

“Hey, asshole, watch it!”

Kanor drew up short abruptly, realizing he had nearly run into someone strolling down the cross-corridor.  They were wearing a silver silk robe with black trim, and what appeared to be a black fuzzy animal with circular ears on their feet.  Smoke swirled in the air beneath Kanor’s nose.

“Commodore!”

Kaz lifted his cigarette up to his lips as he chuckled. 

“Mister Kanor!  Certainly wasn’t expecting to run into you out here this time of night.  You’re in a damn hurry, aren’t you?”

Kanor took a couple of steps back, to establish personal space and to attempt and place the smoke further away.

“Yes, well…decided to go out for a stroll, and…encountered some situations back there I wasn’t expecting in getting up here, that’s all.

Kaz’s head tilted slightly in puzzlement as he looked at Kanor, absently puffing a bit of smoke out the corner of his mouth as he lowered his cigarette.  His eyes narrowed.

“Wait a minute…you didn’t just come from the stairwell, did you?”

“I did, actually, yes.  I didn’t want to take the turbolift here; it seemed to…defeat the purpose of coming out to stretch my legs, as it were.”

Kaz’s head tilted back as he burst out into laughter, the cigarette in his hand precariously close to falling onto the deck plating.

“Oh…oh shit…and at THIS time of night…!”

Kaz was doubled over laughing, now, his hands on his knees as his body shook.  Kanor frowned, obviously left out of what seemed to be so amusing to Kaz.

“Ya hear that, Mickey?  Kanor went cruisin in the stairwell!”

Kanor wasn’t sure who “Mickey” was, though Kaz appeared to be talking to his feet.  The animals on Kaz’s feet appeared to have a face, now that he looked at them more closely.  He cleared his throat, trying to interrupt Kaz’s amusement.

Kaz straightened up again, grinning from ear to ear as he placed his cigarette in between his lips.

“I’m sorry; I can’t help it, that’s hilarious.  I can only imagine what you must have run into in there…”

“To be blunt, quite a few people fucking.”

Kaz’s eyes danced as he smirked at Kanor.

“The stairwell is the hotspot on the ship for cruising, Kanor.  It’s so rarely used by people to actually go from deck to deck, especially during the night time hours, so…”

“What do you mean, ‘cruising’?  I don’t understand.”

Kaz chuckled again, taking a pull from his rapidly dwindling cigarette.

“Cruising…looking for sex.  People head to the stairwell to look for someone to hook up with.  No strings attached, or someone new to have fun with.  Whatever the case may be.”

The image of Te’ara and Paia’s nude bodies and their wanton invitation for him to join made a bit more sense, now.  As did the young man’s rather gleeful discovery of Kanor just inside the door; the fact he was removing his tunic, the forwardness, clearly flirting.

“So…by being in the stairwell at this late hour…”

“People you ran into thought you were available for some fun.”

They stood in the corridor for a bit as that sunk in for Kanor, not saying anything.  Kaz finished his cigarette, flicked it expertly into the seemingly ever-present metal troughs in the floor along the corridor, and proceeded to light another one immediately.

“Well, then.  I don’t suppose I’ll be utilizing the stairs to return back to my quarters.”

Kaz laughed.

“Really?  And you seemed so eager to chase some tail when you first came aboard…the stairwell is quite invigorating.  That’s how Drei and I first met!”

Kanor frowned, uncomfortable with the subject.

“Again, I apologize for nearly running into you.  I was on my way to the lounge, thought it’d be nice to look out at the stars for a bit.”

“Turns out that’s where I was headed myself, we can head there together.  Besides, you can’t have access to the vista unless you’re accompanied by an officer, you know.  It IS the OFFICER’S lounge.”

Kanor had forgotten that small detail.  While it would have been no trouble to slip past whatever screening process they had, he supposed this would be easier.  Besides, he didn’t get to talk to Kaz too often; this presented a valuable opportunity to find out some information.

“Quite true.  Alright, then.”

They started off down the corridor together, Kaz continuing to smoke his second cigarette, though he made an attempt to keep the smoke away from Kanor.  Kaz broke the silence.

“So, what brings you up here this time of night?  If I recall, your quarters have a decent view of the stars.”

Kanor grudgingly responded.

“Trouble sleeping.  I’ve had a lot on my mind, and…reinjured myself yesterday.  Haven’t really been able to blow off some energy, so thought I’d go for a walk.”

“Ahh.  Well, I’m sorry to hear that.  What’d you do, push a little too hard in the gym or hit something too hard?”

Kanor snorted.

“Something like that…what about you?”

Kaz grinned, taking a nice, long pull on his cigarette, his eyes glistening happily.

“Let’s just say after a VERY strenuous and invigorating evening myself, I found I had too much energy still to simply fall asleep, so thought I’d go take in the view too, actually.  Drei was…too exhausted to come along.”

Kanor couldn’t help but chuckle at Kaz’s description of events; he might even say the Metron had a bit of a strut to his stride.

“What, were you secretly on your way to the stairwell to tire yourself out?  By all means, don’t let me stop you.”

Kaz waved his cigarette-holding hand.

“Oh no no no, Drei is quite jealous.  That wouldn’t do at all.  Besides, we’re in a committed relationship.  No, I was legitimately and innocently heading to the lounge.”  He paused a beat.  “You mean to tell me there wasn’t anyone that caught your interest in the stairwell?  I mean usually this time of night the place is hopping…and moaning, sweating…and all other kinds of very fun adjectives.”

Te’ara and Paia flashed through his mind yet again. 

“Oh there was admittedly some…very enticing ladies I ran into, but…not tonight.  Not in the mood.  Too distracted.”

“Pity.  Well, I’m sure some other night you’ll be able to have a fantastic time there.  Ah, here we are…”

The lounge had a few people in it, even at this late hour, but it certainly wasn’t as lively as the last time he had been here.  They took seats directly front and center of the panoramic viewing area, sharing the space with a couple of Tellarites that seemed to be making out off to their far left.  The occasional grunt and squeal the porcine species let off as they were enjoying each other’s company was distracting at first, though Kanor eventually tuned it out.  They sat in silence for a bit staring at the stars steaming past the Enterprise’s nacelles, which framed the outer edges of the view.

“So, we’re still playing elude the Benders…?”

Kaz, sitting back in his chair, his legs crossed, his left elbow resting on the table as his right kept that cigarette moving from his mouth and back again, blew out a stream of smoke before nodding. 

“They disappeared off of long range sensors not long after I visited you in Sickbay.  I’ve kept us moving, just in case, but we’ve slowed down to a comfortable cruising speed since.  We’ll have plenty of advance notice if they creep back up on us again.”

A waiter stopped by to see if they wanted anything; Kaz ordered a drink, then looked over at Kanor.  He decided to try something Marcie had mentioned drinking one night.

“How about a chocolate root beer?”

Kaz’s face reacted at his selection, though the waiter seemed to be more accustomed to the request.  After he had left, Kaz took a drag from his cigarette and arched an eyebrow at him.

“Really, she’s got YOU drinking that stuff?”

“Who?”

“Marcie.  She’s the only person I’ve ever known who’s even heard of that vile stuff, let alone drinks it.”

“I’ve…never had it, she’s only mentioned it before.  I was curious.”

“Your health.  Speaking of…how bad was that reinjury?”

“Temporary, at best.  Marcie gave me something to speed up the healing process, and I’ve got a hearty constitution anyways.”

“Ah.  Well at least you’re walking comfortably enough.”

The waiter returned with their drinks; something dark and aromatic in a tumbler glass for Kaz, and a chilled, long-necked dark brown bottle for Kanor.  Kaz, after depositing his second cigarette stub in the ashtray on the table, withdrew yet another fresh one from the small pack of the cylinders he had placed next to the ashtray and the lighting device.  Kanor wrapped his fingers around the cold bottle, leaning in to sniff its contents.

“So, I hear you had a meeting with Munson today.”

Kanor bought himself some time by putting the bottle to his lips and taking a sip.  His eyes drifted as he contemplated the flavor, unconsciously smacking his lips a bit.

“Interesting…yes, yes I did.  It went quite well, Munson is an intelligent man.”

Kaz was eyeing him across the table; whether to see his reaction from drinking the chocolate root beer, or to gauge his facial expression at mention of Munson, he wasn’t sure.

“I seem to recall stating Skid would need to be present for the meeting with Munson when you requested it.”

“You did.  I haven’t really spent much time with this…Ai Tsukinawa, but she’ll have to be pretty stellar to overshadow Munson, from what I’ve seen.”

“She’s an excellent tactical officer; great shot with the shipboard weapons, and has an advanced mind for space combat tactics.  Knows the ship’s systems well, too.  You can’t change the subject that easily on me.  I’m a Metron, not a child.”

Kanor met Kaz’s gaze across the table, not breaking it as he took another, larger sip of the chocolate root beer.  An extremely intriguing concoction.  He wondered if it was the chocolate or the root beer that was catching his attention the most.  He had never had either.

“And I’m not a child, either, I don’t need a babysitter.”

They looked at each other across the table for a few moments, the only sounds a soft, long, drawn out piggy-squeal.  Kanor didn’t even want to know what the Tellarites were doing back there.  Finally, Kaz picked up his drink, took a long taste of it, then held it with his left hand as he looked out at the stars in front of them, lifting his cigarette back up to his lips.

“Sh’lan deliberately kept his security people undertrained.  Easier for him to control, and honestly it didn’t seem like he had much respect for them.  Redshirts to the slaughter like cattle.  Occasionally, good ones like Ai and Munson would survive, so he’d take steps to make sure they could flourish…but not be able to replace him.  Ai is a top notch tactical officer; Munson a top notch security officer.  Neither of them have much experience in the other’s job.  Something Sh’lan did intentionally.  They’re both under-experienced considering how long they’ve been with the crew, even in their respective areas; again, Sh’lan’s doing.”

“I assume also Stapes’ doing.”

Kaz seemed to mull over his next words carefully.

“Sh’lan operated in a fashion he learned from his mentor, Stapes.  Problem for Stapes is, I’m not someone he can control, but he needs me.  When I came along to the Independent Fleet, they were floundering.  Stapes’ method of command had either crushed people, or ran them off.  All he had were some obedient automatons who wouldn’t question his authority.”

“So how did he come to be convinced he needed you?”

Kaz smiled, though it seemed bittersweet.

“For one, I wasn’t alone.  A large number of my Metron brethren came with me; not only are we good at what we do, but Metrons aren’t exactly known for their…galactic involvement.  We brought some notoriety to his little band of mercenaries.”

Kanor was anxious to hear more along this line of thought.  Kaz was right; Metrons were relatively scarce in the galaxy.

“I’ve…heard rumors about Metrons, that they can do things they shouldn’t be able to.  Was that another reason Stapes wanted you aboard…?”

Kaz’s eyes seemed to drift as he pulled on his cigarette, and Kanor got the feeling the Commodore was thinking on things nowhere near the Enterprise.  Without looking, the Metron lifted his drink, emptying the contents of the mostly full beverage in one swig.  He placed the glass back down on the table, his fingers fiddling with the rim for a moment as he contemplated…whatever it was he was contemplating.

“My group and I were…exiled from the Consortium.  The things you mention hearing, the rumors…being exiles, we’re not quite capable of those kinds of things anymore.  And what we are capable of comes at great effort.”

Kanor felt empathy for Kaz upon hearing about this exile.  While he was welcome to return to Qo’noS as he pleased, he had never been really accepted by his fellow Klingons.  His parents had suffered their own scorn for their union, but his was an entirely different kind.  He was trying to think of something to say when Kaz continued, clearly uncomfortable with the turn things had taken.

“Anyway, one thing led to another…we ushered in a new way of doing things, and more importantly, got results.  Stapes hates it, but he also can’t deny the increase in revenue for the entire Fleet I’ve brought in.”  Kaz smiled.  “We have our little game we play.”

“Game?”

“Where in he keeps trying to control me while praising me, and I keep thwarting him while doing things my way.  Where he tries to emulate the success my ship and crew have had with the rest of his people, not understanding the reason we have that success is specifically because I DON’T do things the way he insists they should be done.  He’s really quite brilliantly stupid.”

Kanor thought it made Kaz sound a bit full of himself, but had to admit it seemed to fit what he had seen of the situation so far.  He absentmindedly reached his left hand up to rub at his temple; his headache seemed to be worsening at a greater rate since they had sat down.

“And is that why you’re a Commodore still and not an Admiral?”

Kaz laughed, stubbing out his cigarette.  Surprisingly, he didn’t reach for a replacement right away.

“Oh no no, I’m a Commodore by choosing.  Stapes would love nothing more than to get me off the Enterprise.  Turn my Lady over to one of his buffoons and shove me behind a desk somewhere where he can keep me close at hand and keep an eye on me.  Hell no.  You wouldn’t believe how many times he’s tried to take the Enterprise herself away from me, get me onboard one of his newfangled monstrosities.”

“You mean a different ship, a more current design?  Why didn’t you take him up on the offer?  The Constitution class is…well, not cutting edge, for certain.”

“Kanor, technology is all well and good.  But you give me an ‘outdated’ class of starship, and I guarantee you I’ll run circles around some fucking idiot in the latest model off the shipyard’s assembly line.  Technology augments skill, it doesn’t create it.  Another reason the Independent Fleet was floundering before I came along?  Well, there’s several, but another major reason?  Stapes used the bulk of the credits earned and sunk it into technology.  Getting the newest gadgets, the most current designs, the fanciest gizmos and whirlygigs.  They were relying on technology as a crux.  You strip away their precious technology, and what do they have?  Even with Sh’lan’s tampering, I’d place my bets on a member of my crew versus any other any day of the week.  I’ve got the best damn crew in the Fleet, I stake my life on it.”

Kanor emptied out his chocolate root beer, taken aback by the conviction in Kaz’s words, the resolve.  He had to admit, there was a certain…charisma to Kaz when he spoke about his crew like that.  Unshakeable belief, undeniable certainty.  It was hard to ignore; one found oneself getting kind of caught up in it and swept along for the ride.

“So…excluding Munson from the full scope of what’s going on…?”

Kaz, who had reached to pull out another cigarette from the pack on the table, glanced over at Kanor as he held the flame to the end of the paper, letting it ignite.

“Admittedly, an oversight from long habits of dealing with someone we couldn’t trust.”  He lowered the cigarette without inhaling from it, the smoke curling up into the air above the observation area.  “You were right to point it out.  Thank you.”

Kanor tilted his head in acknowledgement of the thanks, fiddling with the empty bottle as he contemplated ordering another one.  It was a strange confluence of flavors, the beverage.

“You’re welcome.”

They were silent for a while, then, both staring out at the incredible view in front of them, each man alone with their thoughts.  Kanor, who had been sitting straight-backed in the chair, his right arm resting on the table as he held the bottle, found himself settling back in the chair without realizing it.  Kaz sat on the other side of the table, the fingers of his left hand spread out and resting over the rim of the empty glass as his right hand simply held the cigarette between two fingers.  Apparently somewhere along the way the two Tellarites had retired, presumably to have a good go at each other.  Kaz and Kanor were the only two left in the observation area.

“So if you don’t mind my asking, what’s been on your mind?”

Kanor was surprised by the question.  He turned to look over at Kaz, his head tilting to one side a bit.

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“You mentioned you couldn’t sleep, you had a lot on your mind…?”

Kanor found himself biting his lower lip as he stared out into the carpet of stars, a sigh escaping his lips.

“Female issues.”

Kaz snorted, glancing over at Kanor while shaking his head.

“I’m assuming you are in fact male, and you’re just being a bit of a sexist pig in making that comment.”

Kanor frowned, turning to look across the table at Kaz again.

“What do you mean?  They are problems concerning females; what else could I call them?  Girl problems, woman problems?  What is the difference?”

“It’s the way you said it.  Almost…derisively.”

Kanor threw his hands up in the air, though he didn’t raise his arms.

“Yes, because they are problems that trouble me, not because it involves females!”

“If they were problems with males, would you refer to them as ‘guy problems’?”

“I don’t know, maybe!”  Kanor’s brow furrowed as he thought about Kaz’s contention for a moment.  “I suppose…it is because they are problems I do not understand, and…at least to me, it seems they are a problem because it involves females.”

Kaz frowned as he stared at Kanor for a few moments, lifting his cigarette up to his mouth to take a drag from it without diverting his eyes.

“There are times I’m quite fucking relieved to be only interested in other guys.   Anyways, you were saying?”

Kanor shot Kaz a look before turning to gaze back out at the stars.

“I was raised in Klingon society.  As I grew up, I realized Klingons were a…patriarchal society.”

“Anyone who’s ever met a Klingon knows it’s a patriarchal society.”

Kanor scowled at Kaz’s interruption, shooting him a withering glance.  Kaz averted his eyes as he held up his hands in a fending off gesture, his cigarette dangling from his mouth.

“I find the concept of a patriarchal society…distasteful.  A matriarchal society, too, for that matter.  I prefer the idea of a level playing field; in society, and in a relationship.  Partners.”

“Between males and females?”

“Between people, period.  In modern times, my mother’s parent cultures have developed to a more equal ground; but both Vulcans and Humans have come out of patriarchal societies, and remnants of it still echo in both, even to this day.”

“The galaxy is riddled with other gender-based societies that have come from matriarchal roots, and even some that have developed with an equality between genders.  Why, there are even cultures where a third or fourth gender…”

Kanor waved a hand dismissively to interrupt Kaz.

“That’s not where I’m going.  What I’m trying to say is, all I’ve ever known well are Klingon females.  Raised in a patriarchal society.  They’re not all submissive bedwarmers, either; there are several quite dominant Klingon women, despite how our society is arrayed against them.  The Klingon heart beats fiercely in our women as much as our men.”

“Riveting.  You know, I’ve never heard of a homosexual Klingon man…”

Kanor sighed; rolling his eyes at Kaz’s disinterested tone.

“Did you mean it when you asked what has been on my mind, or were you simply attempting to be nice?”

“You’re right, I’m being rude.  It seems like you’re rambling, however, and I’ll admit to a bit of a headache since we’ve come in here.”

“I have a point to make, in reference to answering your question.”

“My apologies, then.  Go on.”

“Klingon women were…relatively easy to understand, at least the ones I knew.  Mate for pleasure, mate for political or societal gain, mate to submit to a male who wanted you.  My parents were ambassadors; nothing of great political or societal standing, and their lot worsened when they fell in love.  As a…halfbreed, I was not well received in our society.  My experiences with women were either ‘let’s have a wild time with the freak’, or women with no mettle who couldn’t take care of themselves.”

“That sounds…so romantic.”

Kanor shrugged his shoulders at Kaz’s sarcasm.

“Like I said, that’s all I seemed to encounter.  There is love for love’s sake in our people, but I never found someone for me like that.”

Kaz simply ashed his cigarette, waiting for Kanor to continue.

“Anyways, then I came aboard Enterprise.  Of course I’ve encountered societies outside of Klingons before, but I’ve never been so…involved for such a duration before.”

Kaz frowned.

“You’ve only been aboard a few weeks…”

“I don’t usually stay places for long; and if I do, I usually don’t get too involved with people there.”

“So, you’ve come aboard Enterprise, and now…?”

“Now…I seemed to have…developed feelings for individuals I don’t quite understand.”

“How can you not understand them?”

“Because they are not...simple.  One revolves around a strong friendly relationship without sex, the other seems…more sexually friendly.”

“As in all about sex, or friends having sex?”

“Friends having sex.”

“And you care and have feelings for both of them, I take it?”

“I enjoy the presence of both, and would regret losing either of their company.”

“So…you’ve said they’re both friendships, the only difference is one involves sex.  Would you like sex in the other?  Would you like the one without the sex?”

Kanor frowned, contemplating that briefly.

“I’m sure I would, on both accounts; but…it’s appeared from the beginning that sex wasn’t something available in the one.”

“But you haven’t minded until lately.”

“I still don’t mind.  It’s not the lack of it there that has caused the confusion, per se.  More like…the inclusion of it with the other that has created the issue.”

“Ahhhhhh.  So, there’s a jealous factor involved.”

“I…suppose, yes.  I guess that’s what I don’t understand.  I was simply enjoying myself with another friend; we were helping each other feel good.  It doesn’t mean I think less of the other friend because of it.”

“Maybe not, but sex is a connection you share with one you don’t with the other.  Something the one is willing to give the other isn’t, maybe for very legitimate reasons.  That’s going to make her feel inadequate.”  Kaz took another pull on his cigarette, pausing for a moment before continuing.  “Tell me; have you thought about MORE than friendship with either of them?  Do either of them fulfill your desire to find…how did you phrase it…’a partner’?  Do they each have ‘mettle’ to take care of themselves, and is the one simply wanting to get her freak on?”

Kanor was trying to understand how Marcie might feel inadequate.  His skull was pounding, now, it was difficult to focus.  He had never really compared them to each other in that fashion; Skid was simply Skid and Marcie was simply Marcie.  Neither of them was inadequate in anything in his mind, he simply interacted with them differently.  He blinked a bit at Kaz’s barrage of questions.

“I really don’t think she’s wanting to simply use me, not at all.  And as for…”

A thunderclap of screeching sound slammed into Kanor’s ears, and the deck beneath them suddenly shuddered violently.  Kanor’s bottle was knocked from his hand, fell off the table, and shattered, while Kaz’s empty glass followed not far behind.  Kanor’s hand clamped down on the table, denting it with the impressions of his fingers to stay in his seat, but Kaz was pitched out of his chair.

“Joan’s great tits, what the fuck was that!?”

The Red Alert klaxon suddenly blared to life overhead, and Kanor cried out as a stabbing pain flared inside his skull, forcing him to double over as he reached up to clutch his hair for a moment.  He hissed, but the pain just as quickly seemed to disappear, along with his headache.  He heard a series of electronic chirps from the floor as Kaz whipped out his communicator.

“Kaz to Bridge, report!”

Kanor lifted his head again, sucking in air, only to have his eyes widen in utter shock at the drastically changed scenery outside the viewing port.  Kaz had fallen to the deck and propped himself up on an elbow with his back to it; he couldn’t see.  Kanor leaped to his feet.

“Kaz, LOOK!”

Kaz’s head whirled around to look behind him, the cigarette he had managed to keep inbetween his lips falling to the deck, forgotten.

The Mindbender’s ship filled the massive observation window.

Kanor finally passed through the Sickbay doors, the cords of his neck standing out occasionally as each step brought another flood of pain throughout his body.  In the moment, bedding Skid had been marvelous.  The burning sensation of her nails scoring his back, the way she had slammed him against surfaces in her eagerness to have him, the grasping, clutching, bruising feeling of her fingers digging into his flesh.  Even now, recalling the events of last night, he couldn’t stop a grin pulling at his split lips.

“That has got to be the oddest mixture of pained happiness I’ve ever seen on anyone’s face before.  What happened to you, where were you last night?”

Kanor felt…he wasn’t even sure what when Marcie came up to him, coming out of the exam room, situated between her office and the intensive care area of Sickbay.  He had hoped he might be able to dart in without her noticing and have one of the nurses attend to his injuries; indeed, he spotted Ensign Clarke behind her getting up from the nurse station, looking extremely disappointed Marcie had been able to beat her to him.

“I…um…spent the night…elsewhere.”

Comprehension dawned on Marcie’s face, and immediately a blast shield seemed to drop down over her facial features.  For some reason, Kanor couldn’t look at her, so he averted his eyes.

“I…I think I may have rebroken a rib…”

“This way, then.  Let’s see what you’ve done.”

Marcie ran her tricorder over his body silently after Kanor had situated himself on the biobed in the exam room.  He forced himself to look at her as she studied the readouts, the room uncommonly silent.  She wouldn’t meet his gaze, though she surely had to see him looking at her.  Her lips were compressed into a pencil thin line, the ivory skin of her jawline taut.  The developing pain in his chest seemed to be amplified by the weight of their lack of interaction.  He tried to come up with something to say, even as his reactions to the situation angered him, but she beat him to it.

“Well, you didn’t break it again; just gave it a really good bruising.  When it was still trying to heal.”  She put the tricorder away and stepped back.  “You’ll need to remove your jumpsuit so I can get to all those bruises and abrasions.  The whole thing, judging from the locations.”

Kanor frowned a bit as Marcie activated the privacy screening for the room.  Though he had stripped in front of her multiple times at this point-had grown perfectly comfortable around her in that area, really-he felt…disturbed, now.  He bared his teeth silently a few times during the process; some of those abrasions seemed to have melded to his jumpsuit from the holodeck to here.  Marcie at least was busying herself; she had slipped on some gloves and was fussing through some instrumentation with her back turned.

“I am ready.”

Kanor fumed as Marcie turned around and wordlessly began tending to his fresh wounds.  He felt strangely humiliated.  He was a warrior, dammit!  He had only known these people for a matter of days, and besides; he and Marcie were not a couple.  Hell, his relationship with Skid wasn’t even what most would call romantic, though he was certain there was something more than simple physical gratification there.

“For fuck’s sake, did her talons have to scrape so deep?  This is ridiculous!”

Kanor mentally winced at Marcie’s uncharacteristic cursing.  His spine stiffened as he felt her swipe a cleansing and sanitizing agent over the sets of ten gashes marking his back all over.  Her usual gentleness was certainly not present, nor were her customary warnings of “this might sting a little”.  He tried to bite his tongue, but couldn’t.  He felt indignation flaring up.

“Well it certainly felt good at the time.”

She stopped, leaving her fingers pressed against one of the open wounds and creating a burning sensation that made his throat constrict.

“You WANT me to leave these as they are?”

“No!”

“Shut the hell up, then, and let me do my job.”

Kanor sat in a sullen silence on the biobed as Marcie cleaned the fresh blood from his body, then began applying the dermal regenerator.  He and Skid had taken a moment to bathe together before leaving the holodeck; he, to remove certain evidence from his body before going to Sickbay, where Skid had convinced him to go not understanding his reluctance to, and she, to get ready for her duty shift.  Not all of the wounds had scabbed over yet, however.  Marcie certainly didn’t spare his bruised ribs as she was taking care of his front side, despite the boney ridges that protected his chest due to his Klingon heritage.  Skid had found the ridges on his chest, spine, and feet sexy.

“Well, saying as how Ensign Clarke is still walking this morning, and Ensign Te’ara was on the overnight shift last night, I can only assume Skid will be stopping by later today with similar injuries.”

A rumbling of a growl rattled Kanor’s throat.

“I don’t see how that is any of your concern!”

She finally met his eyes for the first time since first finding out, and Kanor felt a pair of blades stabbing into his eight-chambered heart in the form of blue orbs.

“No, I suppose it’s not.”

The oppressive silence returned, and Kanor berated himself for forming an attachment with Marcie that obviously wasn’t going to go anywhere from the start.  The soreness he had been feeling between his legs was apparently due to actual deep bruising he had endured down there, not overuse.  That had been an awkward few moments as she tended to that.  Marcie finished tending to the rest of his injuries, leaving the minor ones to heal on their own.  Ordering him to remain still, she returned from the replicator a few moments later with a fresh jumpsuit and a hypospray.

“This is to keep the inflammation under control, and speed along the healing process.  Once a day.  You might want to make...future antics less physically demanding, at least for a few days.  You know, like I told you to do in the first place when you left here yesterday.  I’m not going to bother with a pain suppressant; maybe that’ll remind you to listen to your Doctor.”

Kanor, pulling on the new jumpsuit as she talked, was surprised that Marcie seemed to have gotten the measurements and molecular composition of his jumpsuits down so exactly.  The sight of her eyes looking at him as she said that phrase earlier twisted his insides anew when it sprang up in his mind’s eye, unbidden.

“I will endeavor to do so.”

Marcie inclined her head slightly; then, without saying another word, deactivated the privacy screening and headed back to her office.

Kanor watched her go; trying to think of something to say, trying to make sense of the writhing thoughts going through his brain, but unable to do so.  He slammed his fist down against the biobed, taking some small pleasure in the normally resilient surface denting in.  He clung to the sensations it created in his hand and shot up his arm as he got to his feet.  Ensign Clarke poked her head around the door, her face lighting up as she saw him still there.  The enthusiasm in her voice faltered as his mood got across to her, however.

“Kanor!  Couldn’t stay away from us, huh, big guy?  Is…is everything okay…?”

“No, no it is not.”

He pushed his way past her and stormed out of Sickbay.

                                                                           *****

Kanor got to his feet as the door chimes sounded.  After returning, he had taken some time to prepare his quarters for the visitor he was about to receive, trying not to dwell on the fact Cypher had informed him Marcie had slept here last night.  Apparently she had also tidied up his quarters while he had been laid up in Sickbay.  On one hand, the way she came and went inside his living space was troubling.  On the other, it was a bit…endearing, that she cared in that fashion.

“Enter.”

Munson stepped in, stopping just outside the office area Kanor was standing in.  There was a moment as they both looked at each other; each of them standing with their legs apart, their arms crossed behind their backs, their chin up just a slight bit.  Assessing each other.  Kanor ensuring he didn’t look like he was in the pain he was in.

“Ensign Munson reporting as requested.”

No “sir”, slight emphasis on the word “requested”.  Kanor approved of Munson’s response. 

“Have a seat, Ensign.  I’d like to discuss our mission to the planet the other day.”

Kanor hadn’t informed Skid, or Kaz, he was contacting Munson.  But after returning from Sickbay, his thoughts in turmoil, his temper simmering, he had to have some sort of outlet for all of this energy.  He couldn’t really get his blood pumping in the gym.  He didn’t want to risk injuring himself again and be forced to go through another awkward situation with the ship’s doctor.  When he was riled up like this, he couldn’t focus enough to think critically scientifically.  Security and tactics were instinctive, however.  And he was positive, unlike himself, Munson had much better self control.

Munson took the seat at the small table he had gestured towards; Kanor carefully settled across from him.  He wasn’t sure Munson would respond to the message; figured he might check with Skid or Kaz first, be ordered to stay away unless “supervised”.  Kanor was glad he hadn’t.  This was the first time they had interacted with each other since the incident at the armory.

“What is there to discuss?  I put everything in my log; I was informed you had been given access to it.”

“I was.  I wanted to talk with you about observations I made during the events.  Observations I didn’t include in MY report.”

Munson frowned, shifting in his chair, his back straightening even more, impossibly.

“The report which I WASN’T given access to.”

Kanor kept his expression impassive, though he was surprised.  He had assumed Munson had been given access to everyone’s logs on the situation like he had been.  Quickly reviewing everything he had said, he reached out for a PADD, pulled up his report, and then slid it across the table to Munson.

“Then by all means, feel free to read.”

Munson took the PADD, glanced at it for a moment, then returned it to the table.

“You mentioned observations NOT in your report.”

“Who was responsible for the majority of the security team’s training?”

Munson’s eyes narrowed.

“Most currently, the late Lieutenant Sh’lan, who was Chief of Security for the longest period of time since I’ve been aboard Enterprise.  I’m aware his…doctrines were subpar.  One of my first acts as acting Chief of Security was to begin remedial training for the security department.  It’s…been an act in progress.  I’ve gone over the initial suggestions you presented to Skid and have been setting things in motion in regards to those as well.”

Kanor was impressed Munson was honest about the blatant shortcomings.  He had been expecting denial, anger over wounded pride and the like.  Hoping for, actually, he realized.  He studied the Ensign’s face for a moment, watched the young man’s teeth seem to grind, watched what he said next and the way it seemed to leave a bad taste in his mouth.

“If you have professional suggestions on ways we could improve, I would be open to hearing them.  That IS one of the reasons why you’re here, isn’t it?  To consult?”

For the next hour, Kanor and Munson talked about things that had happened on the mission, and training techniques in general.  Though it was obvious some of Kanor’s observations grated at Munson’s tolerance, not once did the man lash out; not even when Kanor baited him intentionally.  Munson seemed genuinely interested and devoted in doing what he could to improve his team, and protect the ship and her crew.  Though Kanor had been hoping for a fight-if not physical, at least verbally-he found himself instead developing a grudging respect for the human.  His grasp and understanding of the topic matters was intuitive.  With more experience, he would be a formidable opponent.

“What about the preventative measures we’ve been taking for our next encounter with the Benders?  Has Selorus been in contact with you?”

Munson scowled at mention of the Romulan’s name.

“Barely.  I’ve gathered he and Skid are attempting to develop something that will block or diffuse their telepathy so we might actually stand a chance.  Not be caught up fighting illusions.  Other than that, I don’t really have any information to prepare my people with.”

“I gather you’re not exactly fond of Selorus.”

Munson frowned, thinking over his next words.

“That was one thing Sh’lan was trying to dig up information about before, and had a difficult time of doing so.  Selorus’ past.”

Kanor shrugged.

“We’re not exactly a group of exemplary model citizens from our respective cultures.  Besides, Romulans are always surrounded by secrets.”

“Sh’lan was under the impression Selorus might have been, if not still was, a part of the Tal Shiar.”

Kanor’s eyebrows leapt up at the mention of the Romulan secret police organization.  Its existence wasn’t secret; no, more like infamous.  Every Romulan citizen held a healthy fear of the Tal Shiar if they were smart.  Its members, their methods, their capabilities…those were the secrets.  The organization was used like a military force in its own right; not only against hostile nations, but against their own people.

“They’re not known for their leniency.  If he was a former member, why….”

“Exactly.  If he’s formerly associated with them, how is he still drawing breath?  Sh’lan was an idiot most of the time, but that was one theory of his I’m more inclined to believe than doubt.”

Things seemed to rapidly click into place in Kanor’s brain.  Selorus’ confidence in the way he carried himself; his ease with physical combat.  The above-average paranoia he exhibited for a simple science officer.  Images of the advanced bugging equipment that had been in Kanor’s quarters when he had first arrived flashed through his mind. 

“How long has he been aboard Enterprise?”

“A little over a year.  He’s the newest officer to the senior staff.”

“And Kaz chose him, not Stapes?”

“Kaz did, yes.  There are more senior science crewmembers, but Selorus not only was interested in the position, he’s good at it.  The last Science officer had nothing but glowing remarks concerning his performance.”

Kanor’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“And what happened to HIM?”

“SHE was killed.  An incident while planetside on a mission.  I wasn’t involved, but Sh’lan was in charge of the team, and made the executive decision to kill her to protect the crew.  She had contracted some sort of indigenous virus that hadn’t shown up on our scans.  Kaz was furious.”

“Was Selorus involved?”

“No, he was on board Enterprise.  Manning the bridge station while she was planetside, actually.  Her own recommendation, that he get bridge experience.” 

Kanor’s frown deepened.  Not likely Selorus was involved, but he had a hard time ruling it out completely.  His gaze met Munson’s across the table.  Knowing that tidbit of information about Selorus made Munson a target; he had to know that. 

“How many people know about this…impression of Sh’lan’s?”

“Living?  Far as I know, the people in this room.”

Kanor mulled over that and all its implications for a long moment.  Munson wasn’t stupid; that much was clearly obvious to Kanor now, after the past hour.  Inexperienced, yes, but not stupid.

“And you told me this because…?”

Munson’s eyes drifted away for a moment as he sorted out his response, but snapped back to Kanor as he answered.

“I don’t trust you, you haven’t earned that yet.  You’re not a part of this crew.  But you’re clearly good at what you do, and have experience I don’t.  Yet.  Though I don’t like you-I should think for obvious reasons-it’s clear to me Skid has a higher opinion of you than she’s willing to admit, and I do trust her.  I’ve seen you in action twice, now.  If Selorus IS a Tal Shiar agent, you are the only person aboard this ship I don’t mind giving that information out to.”

Kanor interrupted him.

“Because if he somehow finds out I know, comes after me, and wins; you’ve gotten rid of me, and know what Selorus is capable of.  Might even be able to strike at him while he’s distracted.  And if I win…same thing, in reverse.  Either way, you and the people you do trust and like are safe.”

Munson simply stared at Kanor impassively.  Kanor’s respect for Munson’s capabilities went up a bit higher.

“Assuming he is, why hasn’t he already taken you out?  Before I came along?”

“I wasn’t a part of Sh’lan’s crowd.  He used me because he knew I was one of the best damn crew members he had, but he didn’t trust me.  He knew where my loyalties lie, as would Selorus.  Sh’lan didn’t trust many; Ensign Travers, that limping woman that…died in the scuffle in Kaz’s office, she was his right hand gal, amongst other things.  She thought if she stuck to Sh’lan, she could ride him, and his success and favoritism by Stapes, all the way to an officer’s pay grade.  I overheard them talking about Selorus by accident, and managed to keep the fact I knew what they were doing about digging into his past a secret.  I’m certain he didn’t tell anyone else, and both of them are dead, thanks to you.”

“Why haven’t you reported it to Kaz?”

“Kaz trusts him, or he wouldn’t have promoted him to Chief Science officer.  He may already know about Selorus and his past, but trusts that it’s in the past.”

“And…this doesn’t assuage your feelings of mistrust for a senior staff member your commanding officer believes is worthy of trusting, regardless of previous organizations he may have been a part of?”

“If I’m to be chief of security, it’s my job to not trust people.  Especially those Kaz does.”

Kanor’s respect for Munson went up yet again.  He filed that information away in his head and directed their conversation back along the tract it had originally been on.

“Have you talked to Skid or Selorus about keeping you more in the loop about these Benders?”

“Selorus replied ‘when you need to know, I will inform you’.  I…haven’t found a good time to bring it up to Skid yet.”

Kanor gestured towards the PADD Munson had discarded that had his report on it as he got to his feet.  Again, carefully.  Too many things hurting in his body right now.

“Read my report, it’ll at least give you a description of whatever that thing was.  It’s not much, but from what I gather, it’s more than what everyone else down there saw.”  He paused a moment, then continued.  “I’ll also see to it you get access to ALL the other people’s reports that were down on the planet.  We barely know anything about these ‘Benders’; you and your people need to know as much as possible so you can be as prepared as you can be next time we run into them.”

Munson picked up the PADD, albeit with a sense of trepidation.  He looked up at Kanor, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Thanks.”

“I’ll see if Skid and Selorus can be more open with this technology they’re working on developing.  Maybe they have good reasons for keeping you in the dark, but it could also be old habits.  Your predecessor wasn’t well liked, as we all know; they probably tried to keep him out of things as much as they could.  When is your next remedial training session?”

Munson replied without thinking.

“0900.”

“And would this session be open to outsiders…?”

Munson frowned, seemingly annoyed at himself by responding to Kanor’s question.  He stood as well, holding the PADD in his left hand.

“In what capacity?”

“Another pair of eyes.”

Munson was silent for a few moments, his jaw working beneath his skin as he decided.

“Tomorrow’s will be, yes.  In the gymnasium.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow in the gymnasium at 0900, then, Munson.”

Munson hesitated, then awkwardly stuck out his right hand, arm outstretched.  Kanor had heard of and seen this human custom before, but hadn’t experienced it himself.  He decided to return it, and took Munson’s right hand in his own.  What might have been a…grimace briefly flashed over Munson’s features, though it was so flitting he couldn’t be sure.  Perhaps he had done it wrong.  Munson’s voice didn’t indicate any sort of emotional response, at least.

“I look forward to it.”

                                                                           *****

“Kaz INSISTED you NOT meet with Munson WITHOUT me!  Were you picking a fight AGAIN?”

“Actually, I was, yes.”

Skid threw up her hands in frustration while making a noise halfway between a growl and a scream.  Kanor found the lower half of his body responding quite nicely to Skid’s presence in his quarters, despite all the aches and pains, especially now that he knew just how wonderful she looked without that pesky work suit of hers.  He was sitting in the office at his computer desk when she had stormed into his quarters, her temper as brightly lit up as her hair.

“What the bloody fookin hell is wrong with ye!  Dammit, Kanor, bloody fookin DAMN IT!”

“Did you receive a complaint from Munson about our interaction?”

“No!  He simply told me he had already talked with you when I asked him about a good time to set up a meeting with you.  Made me look like a fuckin incompetent!”

“Did you inform Munson not to interact with me unless accompanied by yourself?”

“No!  But ye knew bloody well we didn’t want you two in the same room with each other after your little DISPLAY…”

“Then maybe, if you had informed Munson of this wish, our meeting wouldn’t have occurred.”

That brought Skid’s incessant pacing back and forth to an abrupt halt.  She shot him a fiery look that made his loins flare with desire.

“He’s NOT Sh’lan, you know.”

“I know who the fook he is, thank you VERY much.”

“Then you shouldn’t keep him out of the loop on things.  If he’s supposed to be the interim, if not future, Chief of Security, he needs to be informed so he can do his job.”

“What, one bloody meetin, and the two of you are now bosom buddies?!”

“It certainly helped me attain a new…respect for him, yes.  Which is why I question why you’re so angry with me, though I have to admit, it is DAMN sexy.”

Her eyes narrowed and she growled at him, stepping in closer to stab a finger against his chest.  Because of his already bruised and battered body, it actually hurt.

“Get one thing straight, right here, and right now.  Our…relations last night do NOT mean you have some sort of right to my body.  Or me.”

She stabbed her finger against his chest again.  It hurt.  Again.

“So before ye go on thinkin you can piss me the fook off and still have a slim chance in HELL of getting into my pants, THINK AGAIN!  What part of ‘FRIENDS’ and ‘COMPANIONSHIP’ failed to get through your thick skull?!  I’m not your replacement hand!”

Kanor growled, his nostrils flaring with his own rising anger.  Her implications, her yelling, were pissing HIM off.

“I have NEVER thought of you as some sort of REPLACEMENT for my hand!  And I am quite capable of understanding companionship!”

“So meeting up with Munson to pick a fight, AGAIN, was your way of saying ‘hey, Skid, let me show you how trustworthy I am by going behind your back!’, is THAT it?”

She stabbed her finger against his chest again as she said the word “that”, and something in Kanor snapped.  He leaped to his feet, leaning his face in towards her as she backed up from his height towering over her.

“NO!  It’s because I was FUCKING angry at myself for hurting someone I realized I cared about!  And I don’t even FUCKING understand why!”

Kanor’s chest heaved, his fists tightly balled up at his sides as he looked down at Skid with his teeth clenched.  Her eyes were wide, her face slack with shock and, he was utterly ashamed to see, fear.  He felt all the anger get deflated out of him by that look on her face.  He closed his eyes and turned his face away from her, taking a few steps back until his desk bit into the back of his legs. He let himself lean on it.

“I’m….I’m sorry…” he mumbled.

Skid was silent at first, but he heard her step up to him, felt her hand touch a shoulder tentatively.  Her voice was soft when she finally did speak.

“What…what do you mean, you hurt someone?”

Kanor sighed, trying to make sense of the thoughts running through his head.

“In Sickbay, when I went to have Marcie fix me up this morning.”

His eyes were still closed, so he missed the look of confusion on Skid’s face, but he could hear it in her voice.

“Why would Marcie care if you and I…?”

He lifted his face and opened his eyes to look at her.

“Because Marcie and I have been…sleeping-JUST sleeping-together, every night we could since I came aboard.”

Skid’s eyes practically bulged out of her eye sockets.

“MARCIE!?  Sweet and innocent MARCIE?!”

“Like I said, it WAS sweet and innocent.  We never did anything, she never even disrobed fully, we just…cuddled.  Held each other while we slept, sometimes we talked.”

Skid’s eyebrows were practically up into her own hairline.

“That’s still…wow.  I mean…WOW.  I know you love women; you never…?”

Kanor rolled his eyes. 

“Of course I find her attractive; she IS attractive, physically and otherwise.  But…I mean she never seemed to show any interest in me in that fashion.  She even stated once she was glad I wasn’t trying to just fuck her.  And I mean she actually SAID that word!”

Skid lifted her hand from his shoulder and placed the palm of it against her face, shaking her head.

“Oh Kanor…”

“She always talked about how we were going to be great FRIENDS.  Not a couple, not mates, JUST FRIENDS.”

Skid sighed, removing her hand from her face and looking at him, a look of…disappointment seeming to be on her features.

“You’re absolutely hopeless sometimes. Tell me what happened this morning.”

Kanor retold the events of that morning in Sickbay to Skid, and how he had felt uncomfortable with Marcie’s reaction to the news of their fun-filled evening and the anger it had roused within him.  How, unable to vent that frustration out in any other fashion he was more accustomed to, he had contacted Munson, hoping to incite the security officer into a verbal altercation to blow off some steam.

“I’m sure my stopping by Sickbay during my break didn’t help matters any either…I thought she must have just had a bad day…”

Skid proceeded to tell him of her own run-in with Marcie.  Her moodiness, her uncharacteristic sullen, brusque behavior while taking care of the worst of Skid’s wounds before passing her off to Ensign Clarke.

“And SHE was in a snippy mood herself.  I thought it was something between the two of them; I suppose that’s not entirely off the mark.  Well, aren’t you quite the Casanova…”

“The what…?”

“Nevermind.  Look, ye said you realized ye hurt her, and it made you angry; that you cared about her.  Why didn’t ye say something last night…?”

Kanor shrugged.

“I didn’t think to.  Marcie and I were just friends.  It wasn’t until afterwards I wondered HOW she would take it…”

“…and when ye saw that she was taking it badly, and was hurt by it, it made YOU upset and angry because…?”

Kanor frowned.  What was the point of this line of questioning?

“Because I don’t want her to be upset and hurt because of me…?”

“Boyo, it sounds to me like you’ve got a lot of thinking to do.”

Kanor’s brow furrowed even further.

“Thinking?  About what?”

“About what yer intentions are, and what yer feelings are concerning Marcie.”

“I don’t see why I need to be thinking about those more in depth.  If anything, I think I’d like to FORGET about those thoughts, not dwell on them.”

“Which is precisely why ye need to be thinkin on them.”

Kanor looked at her in consternation, but she didn’t explain herself further.

“You’re right.  We need to include Munson more in what’s going on; he’s NOT Sh’lan.  I’ll see to it he’s more involved in what’s going on, and…”

Kanor interjected, convinced to make some of the headway he had wanted to in her visit.  Anything that wasn’t talking about Marcie even more.

“He hasn’t gotten the clearance to review all of the reports on the incident back on that planet.  AND we should BOTH be more involved in the development of this stop-measure against the Benders.”

Skid nodded, making her way over to the foyer of his quarters as she did.

“Ayup, yeah, you’re right.  I’ll make sure te talk with the rest of the senior staff tomorrow; ensure we all realize how he’s being shunned based off of the norm we’ve adopted under a different regime.  He’ll have access to those reports, too.”

He had followed her from the office to the entrance, where she stopped and turned towards him, looking up at him.  Her expression was warm, the corners of her mouth turning up in a slight smile.

“Thank you, Youngblood, for bringing it up.  I’m sorry I got so bleedin antagonistic; I thought ye were up to yer old tricks.”

Kanor stepped closer, reaching up to touch her left cheek lightly with his right hand.

“Skid, I…”

She stood up on her tiptoes and planted a light kiss to his lips as she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a quick hug.  His nostrils were filled with that scent of hers; earthy and wildflowery.

“Good night, Kanor.”