Erratic Nerd Writings

Kanor found himself awake abruptly, torn out of whatever dream state he had been in. The sheets were tangled up around his body, Marcie's absence something he was inexplicably having issues getting used to. Their last...interaction earlier in the day was bad enough, and he told himself he'd back off on his investigation as soon as he was convinced she was truly herself. The return of his solitary sleeping situation he would just need to deal with. In comparison to the extent of his life so far, his time spent sleeping beside her was probably a fraction of a percent. Given his projected expected life span, he wasn't even sure if he'd remember that minute amount of time. It made no sense for it to be troubling him. And yet...

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck, along his chest, arms, and legs...standing up. Alert. Something was wrong. He kept his body still, hoping to give the illusion he was still asleep, as he attempted to crack his eyes just enough to see, his attention to his senses ramping up as he tried to understand why his body felt full of adrenaline, why his instincts were practically screaming at him to do something, to not just lie there like an invalid. But why? There was no alert condition occurring aboard Enterprise. Cypher would have alerted him if someone had broken into his quarters while he slept, even if they had managed to get past his other defenses without her noticing. Was it the unidentified spy, the person who had attempted to gather more information about him? Were they making some sort of final, desperate act, in lieu of him botching some sort of future plan they had by simply being present aboard the ship?

His eyes swept the room through the thin sliver of his eyelids, light coming in through the windows, the vista of deep space sweeping by the only illumination. His nostrils flared just the slightest amount as he attempted to keep the matching inhalation in-line with that of someone asleep.

“You can stop pretending, you're not fooling anyone, least of all me.”

He bolted upright, his arms coming up in a defensive position over his lower face and upper chest. He had spent his entire adult life sleeping with daggers in the bed with him specifically for situations like this, but they had creeped Marcie out, so he had stopped. Instead, he had settled for placing them just above the headboard of the bed. He hadn't thought to move them back where they belonged, and now...now he would have to turn his back on the foot of the bed, where the voice had come from, to retrieve them. He had a unique set of eyes, perhaps he could...

“Lights!”

He had hoped to temporarily blind the intruder, give him those extra few seconds to identify the person, possibly even arm himself or get out of the damn bed. Instead, however, the person didn't even flinch, merely stared back at him from their perch on the seat between the office door and the replicator. Unfazed, unimpressed.

His face.

He recoiled, pushing against the surface of the bed with his hands and legs in an attempt to get as much space as possible between himself and...himself. He stammered, stumbled; his left hand had struck against the edge of the bed and he had nearly lost his balance.

“What the...”

The person in the chair was him, and yet...different. Kanor's brow furrowed as he quickly studied a face he was intimately familiar with, started noticing little details here and there. Wrinkles that didn't belong, scars. The multiple streaks of gray and white in the unkempt mane of hair that was...unruly, at best. His eyes swept downward. The extra heft in the frame, the unfamiliar clothes. The very recognizable, weathered grip of a Varon-T disruptor tucked into the belt in the exact same place he kept his. The posture, the...eyes. His gaze had swept back up to clash against the one sitting in that chair, and he saw, undeniably, himself. There was more...something than he had ever seen in his own eyes looking in the mirror, but...they were his. His mind reeled , his entire being telling him this was fundamentally wrong. Impossible. Not right. Abhorrent.

“We need to talk.”

Kanor finally woke from one of those bone-weary deep sleeps, and knew instantly he had slept longer than he had instructed Cypher to let him. He kicked the tangled sheets off of himself and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, frowning as he spoke aloud.

“Why didn't you wake me?”

“It was quite clear you were in need of more rest than you had allotted time for.”

Kanor scowled, irritated at the blatant display of free will. Cypher's development from a simple voice-interactive AI over the years led Kanor to forget she was becoming more of an independent entity sometimes. He wiped a hand over his face and sighed as he got to his feet. He had to admit, he did feel a lot better, if not fully himself.

“Time?”

“Shipboard time is six hundred twenty-four hours.”

Kanor cursed, taking a step towards his discarded jumpsuit on the floor, when he realized just how much odor he was creating. He bent over to grasp the soiled garment, stuffed it in the replicator for disassembly, and headed to the shower.

“Location of Kaz?”

“Commodore Kaz appears to be in his office.”

“And there were no calls while I was out?”

“None. Doctor O'Neil is still in Sickbay, as well.”

Kanor nodded as he activated the water and began to bathe, wondering, again, what had happened to Marcie and if there was anything that could be done. He planned on visiting her as soon as he was done with his meeting with Kaz.

“Any update on her status?”

“I am unable to access that information without calling attention to myself, especially with the continued operation of the HAL unit.”

Kanor finished the rest of his shower in contemplation. The conversation he'd be having with Kaz. Whatever had happened to Marcie aboard the Bender ship; what had that strange person done? Lastly, he thought of Cypher's rather significant choice to not wake him when he had said. Had it been a simply logical choice, or another step in her emotional development? He wanted to explore that, ask her what her reasons had been, but felt it would lead into a conversation he didn't have time for at the moment. Deactivating the water and stepping out, he grabbed a towel and began drying himself as he walked out into the living area of his quarters. The shower had helped him feel invigorated.

“I'm assuming we're returning to Independent space, or possibly a rendezvous near Federation territory. How fast do you think we can get the Hunt ready to go?”

“I have been staying on top of the regular maintenance scans and operational checks during our stay aboard the Enterprise. After you conduct a physical check of systems and structural integrity, I estimate no longer than two hours before we can depart. I am uncertain how long it will take for the Enterprise crew to transfer the Hunt from the cargo bay to the shuttle bay, but would consider it unlikely to take outside that window of time.”

Kanor nodded as he tossed the towel on top of his soiled jumpsuit in the replicator, deconstructed them, and began donning a fresh one. He would probably gather his belongings and begin prepping the Hunt after his visit with Marcie, that way he could take off as soon as the Enterprise had reached their destination. It occurred to him, then, Marcie might still be unconscious; could he leave without saying goodbye? He began placing his usual assortment of weapons and devices on his person without conscious effort, as his mind began to wander more. He should definitely visit Skid, maybe even write up a final report with some parting tips for Munson. And Kaz...maybe he could bid the Commodore farewell after they had finished their business up.

“Make sure to record and monitor our conversation, in case there are any...discrepancies that might come up. And let's hope we're well on our way and out of here by this time tomorrow.”

*************

The door to Kaz's office was open when Kanor made his way down the corridor, and standing in the doorway, his back to Kanor, was Admiral Stapes. Stapes looked disheveled; hair tousled, uniform tunic removed completely and draped over his left arm, sweat stains dotting the white undershirt almost entirely. Kanor hadn't bothered to call ahead, and figured Stapes would have been long gone by now, but obviously that wasn't the case.

“...not, and the fact you chose to bring it up now, after all that...!”

Kanor could clearly hear Kaz's response from within the office; it didn't sound like the Metron was just inside.

“It was decided you would stop attempting to interfere with my crew. I fail to see how this is any different.”

“You know DAMN well why! A murdering, unknown....!”

“Perhaps if the predecessor had been as excellent and competent as you had promised, things wouldn't have turned o....”

“That's admission to the FLEET, that's NOT the same thin...”

Kanor had stopped an appropriate distance from Stapes, and, after waiting a few beats to be noticed, had simply chosen to clear his throat loudly enough to announce his presence. Stapes whirled at the sound, and again, Kanor thought he saw the quickest, briefest of odd...ripples pass over the Admiral's face. It was so fast, he wasn't even positive he could say he had truly seen it, however.

“YOU! You've got a lot of...”

Kaz was abruptly at the door behind Stapes, and as soon as his eyes lit on Kanor, he interjected.

“I scheduled an appointment with him here after dinner last night. That he waited this long I'd say was rather polite of him. We've been at this all night, Andy.”

Stapes scowled, his eyes glaring at Kanor before switching back to Kaz.

“Don't think I'll simply brush off this latest of slights, Commodore. The fee will still apply, and you can be damn sure it'll be the highest grade possible, as he clearly falls into that category.”

“We still got the job done, Andy. And that'll be huge for future opportunities with the Federation.”

“And it cost us plenty more, COMMODORE. As we discussed, that's the ONLY reason you're getting off with what you got. I expect to see you on Independence One as soon as things are settled. And if I feel like you're attempting to weasel out of any of it...”

Kaz's eyes flashed with heat.

“I gave you my word, ADMIRAL. And I wouldn't be the first to say it's worth a fuck of a lot more than most of the people on the Board!”

Stapes made a noise, turned to look Kanor up and down for a brief moment, curled his lip, then turned around to stride purposefully down the corridor in the opposite direction. Kanor really wanted to lay into the Admiral for his unfounded hostility, but he turned his attention back to Kaz. The Commodore had also removed his uniform tunic, and was wearing a simple black undershirt without sleeves. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his entire face had a haggard look to it Kanor hadn't seen on him before.

“Almost didn't think you were coming.”

“I...overslept. I think I was feeling how you look.”

Kaz snorted at the remark, the corner of his mouth turning up briefly as he turned back into his office and headed towards the left, where a small conference table and two recently used chairs were arranged, along with four others, pushed up against the table's edge. The table had the remains of what appeared to be a barely touched dinner, long cold. Kanor glanced over to the right of the door where the much more relaxed couch set-up had been before as he followed Kaz in, but there was only a bulkhead. He wondered if the office was designed to have these annexes tucked away when not in use, as he hadn't see this table arrangement last time he was here.

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“I...haven't, no....”

“Good, as you can see dinner wasn't exactly palatable, so I'm rather famished. Take a seat, though I wouldn't recommend that one...it's been contaminated.”

Kaz made the remark offhandedly while flicking a wrist in the direction of one of the settings for dinner, to the left of the head of the table, so Kanor took the seat to the right, instead. Kaz was sitting down and pressing a button on a panel inset on the table.

“I'm here in my office with Kanor, now. Send us up an all out breakfast for two-the good kind, not that perfunctory crap of last night-and make sure to send a clean up crew.”

Kaz released the button after the voice on the other end responded, and leaned his head back in his chair for a moment, sighing as he closed his eyes. Kanor glanced around awkwardly, not really sure where to begin, when Kaz opened his eyes again and smiled tiredly.

“That went on for a lot longer than even I anticipated.”

Kanor arched a brow.

“When I realized how much time I had spent sleeping, I thought for sure you would have gone to bed and come back already. Either way, I do apologize for my tardiness.”

Kaz waved a hand dismissively.

“Nonsense. Probably for the best you did, anyways, your timing was actually...apropos this morning. At least one of us will be rested and alert.”

“If you'd rather go get some rest, I completely understand, we can resched....”

“Definitely not. We need to get this taken care of and sorted out, the sooner the better.” Kaz took a moment to squirm in his chair a bit, then he turned, resting his back against one of the arms of the chair and draping his legs across the other. “We've contacted the Federation bounty officer, and have scheduled a rendezvous in neutral territory for tomorrow morning.” The Metron frowned, his brow crinkling for a moment. “Today...? No, no. Second morning after tonight...tomorrow, now. Yes. We will be...accompanied by the I.S.S. Independent and Stapes, but we will be making the exchange.”

“Where is this neutral territory?”

“Roughly midway between Independence Space and Federation territory, I'll have Jax send you the exact coordinates. Stapes is hoping to enter into some tenuous talks with an authorized representative he's managed to convince to be there, as well, and unfortunately we'll have to stick around for the duration, though I'm guessing it'd only be a matter of hours, not days or anything. Skid will probably appreciate the extra time she'll have to make repairs to the Enterprise anyways.”

“That's...good. And we'll get paid as soon as the transfer is complete...?”

Kaz nodded as three ensigns came into the office; one of them was pushing a hovercart loaded with food, and as soon as he deactivated the temperature controls, he began transferring used items from the table. The other two ensigns had proceeded to the chair directly opposite of Kanor. One began working on wiping it down, while the other produced what Kanor could only assume was a molecular sanitizer and began methodically moving it from top to bottom of the chair. The audible rumbling of Kanor's stomachs made him switch his gaze from the ensigns to the food as it was being laid out in front of them. He wasn't even sure what it all was, but it smelled incredible.

“These eggs are from birds native to the planet at Independence One, have great flavor. Those are called Belgian waffles, from Earth. Jax has instructed the Chef in how to make Trill-style pancakes-if you haven't had them before, you should definitely try them out-there's some rare Tellarite bacon...”

Kanor's eyes widened at the last.

“It's actually...!?”

Kaz, in the middle of grabbing large amounts from multiple plates, chuckled and shook his head.

“Nonono...but they're understandably...appalled at the idea of eating pork in their culture, of course, when in fact they have some of the most naturally flavorful, perfect meat-to-fat ratioed pork you'll EVER taste. Lets just say I...helped set up a bit of an underground market flow from one of their planets and make sure we're well stocked. Oh, and make sure you have some of those biscuits with that jam; they're both made right here on the Enterprise, incredible stuff.”

Kanor was taking Kaz's suggestions, while also sampling some of the other dishes that had been arrayed before them. They were huge serving dishes; he wasn't sure how the two of them would ever be able to eat all of it, but he realized, after he had heaped his plate to a precarious level, their first pass had already taken a larger chunk out than he would have thought. He glanced across the table to see the two ensigns finishing up with the chair cleaning, and the other ensign was putting out the last of the various condiments, extra napkins, and additional eating utensils. Multiple large pitchers of liquid had been placed near to Kaz and Kanor both, each with their own set. He picked up the empty goblet that had been placed beside them and decided to go with the amber-colored one, for starters. Kaz was filling up his own goblet with a dark, steaming beverage of some kind as he looked over at the crewmember who had brought the food.

“Thank you, Lorien. I'll let you know if we need anything else; give Chef my regards.”

Kanor picked up one of the slabs of Tellarite bacon, his eyes widening as he chewed his first bite of the seasoned, perfectly crispy meat. He glanced over at Kaz as he swallowed, licking his lips.

“You weren't kidding, that is...superb. None of this is replicated, you have an actual kitchen aboard?”

“I do. All made this morning, and I make sure to keep Chef well supplied and very happy.”

The two of them proceeded to devour their first plates, Kanor and Kaz both going back for more. They exchanged a few comments here and there about the food as they ate-Kanor had never even heard of a Deltan gnuberry, let alone tranya-their work conversation had been mutually set aside in an unspoken agreement so they could simply enjoy the feast. Kanor, who hadn't really realized just how hungry he was or how long it had been since he had last eaten until the aromas of the table titillated his senses, found he was having to force himself to stop. Kaz, who had been picking lightly at a partially eaten fruit of some kind, grinned as he saw Kanor sit his fork down and lean back, his eyes widening as he rested a hand on his stomach.

“Getting full?”

“Regrettably. This was...immensely satisfying, thank you.” He reached for his goblet, which he topped off with the last of his tranya. “So...payment. I assume it won't be too much of a pain in the ass if I get my ship transferred back to the shuttle bay so I can take off as soon as the exchange is all complete?”

Kaz sat the fruit down and leaned back in his chair, producing his package of cigarettes and the lighter, pulling one out, placing it in his lips, and lighting the tip. He inhaled deeply and slowly, closing his eyes for a brief moment after he sat the small box and flame device within easy reach on a clear spot on the table. The smoke lazily started creeping out past his lips as he exhaled just as slowly, his eyelids raising as he settled his gaze on Kanor.

“About that...”

Kanor's eyes narrowed, and he felt a tenseness in his shoulders as he sat the tranya down, waiting for Kaz to continue. Kaz, at least, was smart enough to read into Kanor's physical cues immediately, and he shook his head a bit.

“Of course you'll be paid in full, as we agreed upon, and I can absolutely have your ship transferred up from the cargo bay, no problem. I mean the Enterprise will be returning to Independent Space immediately afterwards. You'd be welcome aboard during the trip, Kanor, as a guest. I've gathered you're not exactly Mister Sociable, but still...I'd wager you've made some friends aboard, and the Enterprise can not only fly much faster than your ship, but you'll have a lot nicer accommodations for the duration, too.”

“I...do appreciate the offer, and you're right, on both accounts...”

Kaz took another pull from his cigarette, quickly pushing a stream out of the corner of his mouth before leaning forward a little.

“Let me be perfectly frank with you, Kanor. You're clearly a very talented individual.”

“Thank you.”

“We discussed, when you first came aboard, certain...problems that had been going on aboard the Enterprise. Problems that, with your arrival, were rather neatly taken care of, for the most part.”

“Your...extended meeting with Stapes would seem to indicate otherwise.”

Kaz waved his cigarette-holding hand dismissively.

“Oh that'll never go away, really. That's something else entirely; and, I won't lie, something I actually enjoy and play into at times.” A brief pained expression flitted over Kaz's features, though it was quickly suppressed. “It...occasionally spills over places I don't expect, but generally, I'm...truly trying to make a more positive difference.” He shook his head. “All that aside, though. Currently, things aboard the Enterprise are mostly how I would prefer them to be, with the exception of one small problem.”

“The crewmembers in your main sickbay, including your Chief Medical officer?”

“All recovering; Marcie woke up during the night and should be discharged by now, if things went as Doctor Malen expected. No, I'm talking about my Chief of Security. I need one. An above-average one, as we've been getting along with a grossly sub-par waste of space for so long.”

Kanor eyes widened as Kaz so casually informed him Marcie was not only awake, but apparently doing well enough to be discharged from Sickbay. He was so taken aback, in fact, he didn't realize at first Kaz had stopped talking and was looking at him expectantly.

“I'm...I'm sorry, what?”

“I'd like to hire you. Permanently; or at least as long as you'd like to make a contract. Have you join the Enterprise crew as her new Chief of Security; complete with full officer grade percentage of pay from all of our jobs, as well as full benefits and access to ship and even fleet facilities, which would include a berth and materials provided, of course.”

Kanor blinked a few times as he mentally switched gears, trying to focus on the conversation at hand and not the corridor he wanted to be walking down to board the turbolift down to where Marcie's quarters were right beside his own. A job, Kaz was offering him a job.

“But...that'd necessitate a joining of this Independence group thing, wouldn't it?”

“It would, but...you'd be aboard Enterprise. Working with people you're already used to working with, and-I'm guessing-raking in a lot more credits than you would on your own. I think we can both agree you meshed well with the crew, Kanor. Hell, even Selorus made a comment in one of his damnable reports that he found your performance 'impressive', and that's saying something coming from him. You have skills we could use, and we have resources you don't.”

Kanor frowned. Sure, he'd...had some interesting developments with members of the Enterprise during this mission, but...joining them? The Hunt was his; he took the jobs he wanted, when he needed them, and completed them his way. He didn't have to report to anyone, or worry about what Anonymous Crewperson One was doing. And sure, he'd met some competent people aboard the Enterprise he actually had a grudging respect for; there were also other people he'd have to work with, like the person who had been sitting across from where he was now mere hours ago.

“I...appreciate the off...”

Kaz cut him off, pulling the cigarette from his lips while smoke wisped out behind it.

“No need to decide now. We've got a journey ahead of ourselves before we finish this job anyways, and I understand there's a lot to take in. Just...think about it. Yeah, Stapes is...well, we don't really need to elaborate there. I get reservations you might have off of that alone, but...it's a decent paying job, doing pretty much the same thing you're already doing anyways.”

“Except for now, when I take a job, I don't have to split that reward...however many ways. I get it all. And if it's a job I don't like, I don't take it. I don't have to worry about some supervisor breathing down my neck.”

“As Chief of Security, you'd report to myself, and Skid. Though she's transitioning out of the role of first officer, admittedly. Still...you've seen the way my crew is, you know there wouldn't be supervisors 'breathing down your neck'.”

“Stapes would never decide to...oh, I dunno, demand I salute him some random time he decides to step aboard?”

Kaz snorted.

“He rarely steps aboard my ship. The only reason he has lately is I've essentially forced him to. Yes, there would be other officers in the Fleet who would technically outrank you and could order you to do something; not following it being a breach of your contract. However, said people are also busy doing their own things, and you'd rarely have to interact with them at all. I doubt you'd even meet all of them.”

“Still.”

“Well, I'm not trying to cloud things for you at all. Yes, that would be different. However...think about your credit situation now. You get all of a job's payout, sure. But how many of those jobs would you have to take to equal...say, this job, alone, even? Obviously your take here is larger than you'd get as an officer, but you get what I'm saying. I'm sure you take some enjoyment in what you do, but you didn't get into the bounty and freelance business out of sheer joy. It's a job you can do well and get paid enough so you can live off of. You increase that amount, though, and...you can start getting things moving. You can do things in a lot quicker of a timetable than you would have had before, not to mention the resource wealth you'd have access to through Independent Fleet channels. Plus, you wouldn't have to worry about paying all those fees that are just a part of operating. Docking fees, hotels, information searching, ship maintenance? You'd increase your profit margin.”

Kanor glanced at his goblet of tranya, swirling the liquid around in it for a bit. There was a project he'd been agonizingly slowly making steps towards for years; that would be able to take a huge leap forward, to say nothing of his ongoing work with Cypher.

“Just...let me know before we get to the rendezvous tomorrow, that's all. Or feel free to stay aboard while we travel back to Independent Space and think about it more.”

Kaz took one last pull from his cigarette, then put it out in the remains of one of his dishes, right where a small pile of ash had been deposited. He pushed his chair back from the table and got to his feet, a weary smile crossing his features.

“Have you ever heard of Earth's JJ Cale?”

“Erm...no. You know, in my short time here, I've noticed you seem to be quite obsessed with Earth for a Metron...”

Kaz chuckled heartily at that one.

“Well honestly, I've been obsessed with humanity and Earth for longer than I was a part of the Consortium, and purely by chance. It's what happens when you encounter a being so full of life and forging a legend they don't even realize yet.”

“I...see.”

Kaz started to step away from the table and crossed over towards his desk in the center of the room. Kanor had a vivid image of Sh'lan's corpse flopped on the floor, Munson on guard at the door, Marcie walking through for the very first time...

“C'mon. Before I send you out of here so I can hopefully go to my quarters and sleep like the dead, I've got to play you this first.”

*************

Kanor made sure he got an empty turbolift car and it was underway before he spoke to Cypher.

“Remind me to look into some of these performers Kaz seems...obsessed with. They're certainly not like the human music I've heard before.”

“Added. Kanor, t....”

“That was unexpected. A job. What are your thoughts on that?”

Cypher seemed to pause a moment, making Kanor wonder if she was doing that as a learned trait she had picked up from people, or if she was genuinely pausing to...what, reflect, process? She had a processing capability on par with a starship's computer, possibly even better, really. The silence stretched out longer than he thought it could, and as the turbolift slowed to a stop, he glanced around to ensure no one was nearby when the doors opened before prompting again.

“Are you okay?”

“I am...unsure how to respond.”

A corner of his mouth tugged up as he walked down the corridor to his quarters. He let her have some time to elaborate before he pushed more.

“Explain.”

“I...do not think I have the proper information to form a satisfactory response to your inquiry.”

His grin expanded, amused by this difficulty she was having, even as he empathized with her dilemma. The doors to his quarters whisked open silently.

“Well, you...”

Cypher interrupted him, which was unusual in of itself; the tone of her voice, however, was also...urgent.

“Kanor, I attempted to inf...”

He stopped abruptly after passing the replicator, in the doorway to the main living area. Marcie was sitting in the chair directly across from him, over by the bed. She was sitting in the dark, nothing lighting the room except the star's illumination outside the window, but he could tell it was her. Her legs were pulled up off of the floor, her arms wrapped around them as she rested her chin on her knees. She glanced up as he entered.

“Marcie!”

“Hey...”

He was across the room before he really thought about what he was doing, scooping her up in his arms and lifting her right up out of the chair, hugging her to his chest. He had to remind himself not to be too enthusiastic-he wasn't really sure if she had any sort of physical frailties.

“Kaz just told me you were released this morning...how are you feeling, what happened?”

She was silent for a few moments, simply resting her head against his chest as she shifted a bit and maneuvered her arms around his neck. Her legs hung limply down the front of his body.

“Um...lights...?”

The lights came on in his quarters, finally illuminating the room and his visitor. She was out of uniform, wearing some sort of soft, loose fitting clothes that seemed very comfortable, at least. Her hair was a mess, her eyes somewhat...dazed, with dark circles ringing their sockets.

“They're not sure, I just...woke up, I guess. Almost like a coma, though...that wasn't it. I'm tired, and...I feel weird. My head hurts.”

She was speaking more softly than she normally did, and Kanor's brow furrowed as she went on. There was an odd detached-like sound to her voice. Something else seemed to be disturbing him, too, though he couldn't quite place it.

“I woke up, and was immediately cognizant of my surroundings, where and who I was. Not a coma, yet definitely wasn't just asleep, either. They monitored an extreme amount of neural activity, but I don't remember anything that happened, wasn't aware of what was going on around me. I'm not cleared for duty, of course, but...physically, I seem to be fine. Headache could be stress, tension. Unclear.”

Kanor sat her feet back down on the floor so she was standing in front of him, his arms remaining loosely around her. She seemed to be staring at his chest, her hands simply resting against the material of his jumpsuit.

“Is it okay for you to be up and around, though...? Should you be sleeping, or...I don't know, something?”

She shook her head, still not meeting his gaze.

“That's why I came here, to sleep. But I couldn't do it. I'm not tired, not really. My brain doesn't seem to want to stop.” She paused, finally lifting her head up to look up at him, tilting it to the side a bit as her eyes narrowed. “This isn't right. You're an asshole.”

Kanor's face jumped, as if she had slapped him. Simultaneously, she shrugged off his suddenly limp arms and stepped back away from him, staring at him blankly. Her arms seemed to wrap around her own torso, a curiously blank look on her face. He blinked stupidly at her, completely at a loss as to what to do, how to respond, still trying to process what she had just said, her flat, emotionless proclamation. She stepped further back, her gaze never wavering from him, until she stood in the entryway to the vestibule, where he had stopped mere moments before. He saw the pale, delicate flesh of her throat ripple as she swallowed audibly, her lips curling into her own mouth. She spoke, and her voice was even softer yet, quavering, higher pitched than normal.

“Do you remember what I said the first time we met?”

Kanor found his throat inexplicably raw; tight, difficult to force words out. What was going on? He stubbornly pushed until he discovered speech again.

“....you...you like milk chocolate...”

She nodded slowly, and Kanor thought for sure he saw liquid beginning to pool in her eyes.

“And...?”

His eyes started to burn, the sight of her starting to blur for some reason. He blinked multiple times, attempting to wrap his brain around what was going on. He was so, so clever...why was he having difficulty with this? His head crinkled even more in concentration, his chest pushing the words out once he managed to flail about in his memory enough to recall.

“And...and that I should...take it...would be good for me or something...”

Marcie's mouth pulled up in the briefest, tiniest of smiles as she sniffled, nodding her head. Another step further back.

“Klerac would be proud.”

Kanor looked at her incredulously, but she didn't give him an opportunity to react further. She was lifting her right hand up in the air, spreading it open between the middle and ring fingers, the pinkie and index fingers pressed tightly against their neighboring digits as her thumb jutted out perpendicular to her palm. A salute he knew all too well.

“Live long and prosper.”

And with that, she turned and walked out.

Kanor went to sit down, but it was more like falling onto the bed. His eyes widened as he continued staring at the doorway, unable to process what the fuck had just happened.

*************

“Kanor.”

He blinked, his eyes focusing upon where the ceiling became the top edge of the windows over his bed. The streaking lights of the stars passing by had been burned into his retinas, so that even when he closed his eyelids, he could see a starfield. He realized he had been re-experiencing his...brush with the Bender's mind. He thought he had finally shaken off all the weird echoes of it, but could still hear the alien voice echoing in his head, over and over, like a mantra, “alone, all alone”. Cypher repeated herself.

“Kanor.”

“What?”

“You have been immobile for an extended duration of time, and have not responded to multiple attempts to get your attention.”

“...there were so many things not right in that conversation.”

“Other than the Doctor knowing your father's name, despite having never been told, I did not register anything else that was 'not right'. Her use of the Vulcan salute, while peculiar, isn't indicative of a problem, based on the parameters I've established so far.”

Kanor sat up in his bed, his eyes narrowing as he felt...just off the cusp of grasping something elusive. Some detail.

“It's a fairly well known Vulcan custom, but...we've never exchanged it before. She's never shown any sort of...proclivity for it, either. It may not have been 'indicative of a problem', but...it was definitely very uncharacteristic of her. And on top of everything else...I mean, she said 'Klerac' as if she were...familiar with it somehow. Not like it was her first time saying it.”

“She was just released from a undefined coma-like state for several hours, and did indicate she was not feeling herself. Also, I might add she has always had multiple unnatural qualities...”

Kanor's eyes widened.

“That...tingle, that spark. When we touch. It wasn't there this time.”

“You have mentioned this in the past, but I have as of yet been unable to witness or record it in any measurable fashion.”

Kanor got up to his feet, excited.

“Yes, but that doesn't mean it wasn't ever there. I've gotten so used to it, I almost forgot it, but...not once. Not once during that entire interaction did I ever feel it; it's normally every single time we touch, period.”

Cypher was silent for a few moments as Kanor paced back and forth beside the bed, chewing on his lower lip.

“I fail to see how this has any relevance.”

“Something is off, Cypher. Whatever happened aboard that Bender ship.”

“Kanor, isn't it...within the realm of possibility that you are having an emotional response to the derogatory term Doctor O'Neil applied to you?”

Kanor stopped, frowning up at the ceiling for a moment as the look on Marcie's face when she looked up at him and said that flashed in his mind. Again.

“Of course I am, Cypher. But I'm not trying to...make myself feel better. Factually, something is wrong. Too many odd coincidences and uncharacteristic behavior. I...I can deal with her just...not wanting to be around me anymore, if that's all it was. But I don't think it is.”

Kanor pulled out his communicator and activated it.

“Kanor to Doctor O'Neil.”

The communicator chirped it's normal response, then made a negative flat sound. She had responded by ending the transmission.

“Dammit all to Gre'thor...”

“If she is unwilling to talk to you, what do you plan on doing next?”

He looked towards the vestibule where she had stood, reliving the last moments he had seen her, heard her voice speaking to him, perhaps for the final time.

“Do you remember what I said the first time we met?”

Interspersed with this memory was that first meeting, the way she had walked into Kaz's office as he waited on the floor, almost like the door was a window letting in a breath of fresh, planetside air. Even then, she had seemed so confident they were friends, that they had a connection.

“You...you like milk chocolate...and...and that I should...take it...”

Kanor felt his throat constricting again as he saw that sad, bittersweet smile. He held his communicator up, still staring at the vestibule entryway.

“Kanor to Kaz.”

There was a momentary delay, then the communicator prompted him to repeat himself.

“Kanor to Kaz.”

The communicator finally chirped in the affirmative, then a groggy, exhausted voice came through.

“Yuhhn?”

“Sign me up.”

{{Again, I'll post the final two pages-the epilogue-later.  I knew very early on this was not going to be something I'd be telling with these characters in a single book.  Too much I wanted to do here.  However, I will be returning and picking up with all those loose plot threads you're probably groaning about after my next planned project.  And yes, I do have a definitive idea of where this is all going!}}