Erratic Nerd Writings

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Cypher.”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“What is the time?”

“0437 hours.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kanor scowled, biting his retort off. 

“Again; how do I get rid of her?”

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

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

“Fat lot of help you are!”

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

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

“Shut up.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What time are you meeting up with Skid?”

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

“0700.”

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

“And what time is it now?”

“Uh…approximately 0445, 0450?”

She smiled against his chest.

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

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

“Okay.”

                                                                           ****

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

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

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

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

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

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

“Affirmative.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Affirmative.”

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

“I am to have a physical body?”

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

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

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

“But what constitutes the quality of a lifeform?”

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

“Cypher, what is the time?”

“0649.”

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

“Affirmative.  It is now 0650.”

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

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

“Kanor?”

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

“Yes, Cypher?”

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

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

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

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

“Affirmative.  It is now 0655.”

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

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

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

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

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

“You were three point five minutes early.”

Skid snorted, rolling her eyes.

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

“Yes.”

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

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

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

“Just a moment.” 

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

“I am ready.  Is there a problem?”

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

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

Skid frowned at him as she turned away.

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

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

“It will not happen again.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you.”

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

                                                                           ****

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

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

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

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

“The time is 0830 hours.”

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

“Good practice, youngblood.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

                                                                           ****

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Skid chuckled. 

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

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

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

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

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“Anything to report?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry.”

“Understood, Master.”

{{Birthdays, vacations, road trips...but Chapter 4 finally emerges!  Enjoy, folks. =-)  }}

The overhead lights came on as he stepped into the room, the door shutting behind him.  They were far too bright.

“Computer, dim lights by half.”

The computer complied, and while it wasn’t quite the Klingon societal norm, it was acceptable.  He verbally adjusted the temperature in the room, as well; it was much too cold.  Klingons and Vulcans were both preferential to higher heat levels than humans.   While Kanor was part human, his “comfortable” range was definitely more in line with typical Klingons and Vulcans.  He heard an air circulator kick in to pump more heat into the room.

The food units were where Skid said they’d be, just to the left upon entering.  While his stomachs rumbled, not having been filled for quite some time, it was ingrained in Kanor’s nature to fully investigate his surroundings before he could feel comfortable, so he put eating aside for now and continued into what would be his new living space for a while.  He found it disconcerting the small foyer of the quarters opened directly into the bedroom area; from the doorway, one would have a considerable line of sight onto the bed and its occupants.  That wouldn’t do at all; he’d have to come up with something to force anyone to come closer, thus lengthening his tactical choices and responses for intruders.  Further investigating, Kanor discovered a lavatory area to his right that seemed to be comprised of several ridiculous luxuries he would probably never use, and, separated by a transparent door and walls, an office area to the left of the entrance.  The office area made up half of the space inside the quarters, and was what most interested him. 

There was a personal communications station against the far wall, across from the entrance to the office.  A desk that was large enough to serve as an adequate workbench just to the right, complete with computer access, and a decently sized storage area behind the wall the desk was elbowed in to.  There was also a small table with a couple of chairs on the left wall of the office, the wall parallel to the corridor, but it seemed to be primarily intended for socializing.  Kanor didn’t value the table’s sturdiness or surface area that much.  He was intrigued by the fact there were windows showing the vast vista of space streaming by outside; one above his bed, and one above the storage area and desk in the office.  They seemed purely aesthetic in nature; a luxury he hadn’t encountered aboard a Klingon ship before.  There was also a rounded out corner area across from the desk along the same wall as the communications station; he wasn’t sure what to make of that.

He found the container that had his possessions sitting at the foot of his large bed.  His shield generator belt, his disruptors, phasers, and blades, his tool kit, the mek’leth, his tricorder; they all seemed to be there, though his grenades were missing.  A good precaution; he’d have to applaud Skid on that one.  Sh’lan had assumed the computer interface built into the armor on his left arm was ineffective without his tricorder or access to a friendly computer system.  If he didn’t have Cypher, that might have been true.  He investigated his tricorder first, checking to see if it had been tampered with.  Not finding anything, he activated the device, did a systems check to verify the software hadn’t been modified, then scanned the room thoroughly.  Once everything checked out, he finally felt reasonably secure.

“Cypher?”

“Yes, Kanor?”

“You got everything?”

“I have been recording everything since you left the ship, affirmative.”

“Could you operate relatively freely in privacy aboard this ship?”

“I have detected a self-aware artificial intelligence aboard this ship; however, it does not seem to be directly tied into the Enterprise’s normal computer mainframe.  In fact, it seems to be secured behind very strong protective walls virtually.  Due to the secretive constraints inferred, I did not actively pursue investigating its physical location or presence.  Barring this, or more concentrated scans on behalf of the Enterprise personnel, I believe I can operate safely.”

“Do you think this other AI detected your presence, as well?”

Cypher was silent for a few moments; at first, he thought it could be a part of her speech algorithm, or perhaps a malfunction, even. 

“Unlikely.  Reviewing our mutual experiences aboard, my passive observational data gathering, and the nature of my program’s communication processes, I do not believe the chances of my having been detected are significant.  This does, of course, depend on the nature of this other artificial intelligence, and the contingent the Enterprise crew would react in some observational way if they had detected my presence, especially after the incident in Sickbay.”

Kanor closed the palm-sized tricorder and sat down on the edge of the bed.  He had gotten used to discussing things with Cypher even though there was no physical manifestation of her presence, but the idea of developing one for her flitted across his mind as an appealing one.

“How could you recognize this AI as being self-aware if it was behind protective shielding, while still remaining undetected yourself?”

“Much in the same fashion you can observe a sentient humanoid’s shadow, know it is self-aware, and all without its knowledge.”

“This AI casts…a virtual shadow?”

“It is not currently directly connected into the Enterprise’s mainframe; it has, however, been so before.  Due to the strong defense surrounding it, and the current disconnected state, I would speculate it is intended as a protective counter-measure of some kind for the Enterprise’s computer, though defensively or offensively in nature is indeterminate.”

Kanor nodded his head as he lifted his face up to the stars streaming by outside the window above.  It was a mesmerizing sight, especially the way the trails of light from the stars during warp-speed travel left lingering lines across his vision even when he closed his eyes.  “It sounds aggressive.  That would make sense.”

“Should I scan the room to ensure it is free of traps, listening, or monitoring devices?”

Kanor let out a slow sigh as the aches of the day’s events seeped in.  He wondered if the medications had/were wearing off, or if he was simply just beginning to let himself feel everything that had been thrown at him today.  He lay back onto the bed; cushy, as he was afraid of.  He would need to look into taking out the cushion before sleeping; at least it wasn’t as bad as those velvety things Kaz had in his office.  He closed his eyes for a moment.  This was supposed to have been an easy in-and-out retrieve mission.  He hadn’t slept since before he had begun tracking the pirates down.

“Sure.  Pretty sure I got everything, though.”

His stomachs rumbled, reminding him, again, it had been far too long since he had eaten well.  He was tempted to try out the food dispenser Skid had mentioned, but decided it would probably be safer, for now, to eat the replicated food. 

“I have detected three separate devices within these quarters.”

Kanor’s eyes flew open as he sat straight up.  “You what?!  Locations?  Purposes?”

“They are highly sophisticated in nature; the tricorder would not be capable of detecting them.  I am unable to pinpoint their exact locations or functions, however I believe closer proximity will alter that.  The closest one is near the foyer.”

Kanor got to his feet, his eyes narrowing as he scowled and headed that way.  He hated surprises.  He just wanted to eat and sleep, dammit!  He stopped in the entryway, eyeing the door to the ship’s corridor, the frame, the replicator and food dispenser machinery.  His right hand reached over to his left forearm to activate something on the computer interface, and he closed his left eye.

Immediately, his vision became a dizzying stream of electrical currents that followed, to a degree, the physical items he was actually looking at, if he could make sense of it.  Over there, the doorway and its control panel.  Along the wall, the power conduits that lined the area between his quarters and the corridor beyond.  There, the food dispenser and replicator.  It was disorienting, and difficult to view at length, but was useful for tracing electronic devices and where live power was coursing.

“It is almost directly above your head.” Cypher said.

Kanor looked up, keeping his left eye closed, and peered around.  Just to the right of his location…there was an unidentifiable, independent current of power.  He closed his right eye, and opened his left, his cheeks alternatingly scrunching up.  The framework of the foyer entryway itself.  He tapped his left forearm, deactivating the contact lens in his right eye, and then looked with both eyes open.  After some scrutinizing, he found a piece of the molding that, when standing directly beneath it, did not appear to be fully flush with the rest.  Prying at the piece with his fingers, it finally swung down on one side, and a thin black device fell down onto the floor.  He replaced the molding piece, which now sat flush, and bent down to retrieve it.

“You were right, Cypher, this IS sophisticated.  Haven’t seen anything like this firsthand.”

“It does not appear to be transmitting.”

Kanor brought the device over to the bed, sat down, and reached for his toolkit.  It was a small kit; for infiltrating, not repairing major machinery.  It would have what he needed to crack the casing open and investigate this thing’s insides, though.

“Good.  Would you be able to detect the other two if they were?”

“Inconclusive.  Given the level of sophistication for this one, it is possible one, if not both of the others, are capable of transmitting in a way I could not detect at this range.”

Kanor sat the device and his toolkit aside.  “I’d better find them, then, before I start dissecting them.”

After more searching, with Cypher’s guidance, Kanor found the other two devices.  One was literally buried inside the communication console’s machinery, directly hardwired into the device.  The second was deftly hidden within the socializing table in the office, and had a good line of sight to the computer screen, even if someone was sitting in front of it, as well as the entry to the storage area.  After he had retrieved them, Cypher confirmed that none of the devices were transmitting currently.

“Okay, so either the person who planted these would have to come in and physically transfer the data off, or they would do some sort of short range burst transmission that could be retrieved, then purge old info for new data.  Judging by the placement of the devices, I’m going to lean more on the burst transmission method.”

“I concur.  It would also facilitate less noticeable data retrieval.”

“I know the Independent Fleet is not a backwater group of mercenaries, but this seems like hardware they wouldn’t be able to get their hands on.”

Kanor began carefully taking the devices apart, wary of damaging them or tripping some sort of safeguard.  As small as they were, however, he didn’t expect them to be equipped with much in the way of physical defenses.  Their primary defense mechanism was their secrecy; that having failed, it should be pretty straightforward.  Still, it never hurt to be cautious.

“The likelihood of the Independent Fleet having access to technology and equipment of this sophistication is incredibly small, especially when you factor in the odds of that exact equipment being present aboard this ship.”

He was quiet while he got all three devices open, and picked up the first one, the one that had been in the foyer, to investigate more thoroughly first.

“For the most part, I’d agree with you; however, we can’t rule out what Kaz mentioned in our discussion.  Perhaps this was something they got in trade for some nugget of information they were able to sell or something.  Still-bit of a stretch.  The one from the foyer appears to be pretty standard visual monitoring.  No audio, but I’m guessing a very high quality of video resolution.  No controls of any kind, but there’s memory, and a small transmitter.  I’m guessing it simply records everything; the person sends a transmit code, downloads the data, and it resets the recording again.”  He picked up the device he had found within the table inside the office area.  “The one from the table appears to be of the exact same design.”

“There are no identifying markers on any of the inside components?”

“Haven’t seen any, but…”  Kanor reached out to withdraw a magnifying stone from his kit, holding it up to his right eye.  “Ahh…no.  None whatsoever.  This has got to be government issue.  Cutting edge tech, and no manufacturing markers at all?  Yeah, nothing else it could be.”

“It could be an independent contractor, inventor, or purchased off of the black market.  Possibly even technology from a race we have not encountered before.  There are several representatives aboard this vessel alone.”

Kanor shook his head, replacing the stone.  “Nope.  I would know if stuff like this was on the black market; and independent contractors or inventors don’t make things like this.  If they did, we’d be business associates.  Same thing goes with unknown races.  You don’t have technology of this caliber available for the masses, and people like us having not heard of or seen it before.  No, this is big government.  Any of the major powers have a sudden collapse or suffer some hit or raid you decided not to mention to me?”

Though Cypher’s speech was inflectionless, Kanor imagined her responding indignantly.  He really needed to complete his voice emote software for her; he was curious how she’d sound with it. 

“Negative.” 

“Let’s run through the list, then, shall we?  We can strike Klingons off immediately.  Too sophisticated, and besides, it’s in the realm of subterfuge; against the Code of the Warrior and all of that nonsense.”

“The Cardassian Union is not in a state they could produce something of this caliber at this time.”

“Agreed.  And it’s too cutting edge for the Obsidian Order to have produced it back when they had some clout.”

“Since you were able to readily identify the major components of the device easily, it would likely not belong to the Breen, the Dominion, the Borg, or an unknown alien power.  There is a slight chance it could be from the Delta Quadrant, after the exposure of our region of space to inhabitants there from the Federation’s Voyager, but highly improbable.”

“Again, agreed.  I’m thinking Federation, Romulan, or Ferengi.”

“The odds favor one of those three.”

“We really need to work on you quoting odds and probabilities; it comes across as too…calculating.”

“But it is a basic function of my programming.  Don’t biologicals use those words as well?”

“Well yeah, but…not as frequently, not like you do.  We say ‘I believe’, or ‘it is…blank’.  It sounds artificial when you use it like you do.”

“But if I don’t possess the full knowledge to know something with a near-absolute certainty, isn’t it morally careless and irresponsible to assume the most likely candidate ‘must’ be correct?  That would inevitably lead to errors.  I would be wrong.”

Kanor sighed, smiling a bit with the corners of his mouth.  “Yeah…yeah, inevitably you would be.”  His stomachs protested yet again in Cypher’s silence.  “I need to get some food before I continue fooling around with these.”

He set everything aside and got up to head over to the replicator unit.  He pulled up the built-in menu and started looking for things he could recognize.  Skid was right, there were no Klingon dishes programmed, though he did find some familiar Vulcan dishes.  There were also Human dishes he recognized his mother having made variants of, but he was less inclined to try those.  Still, Vulcan dishes were almost exclusively vegetarian, and he needed meat.

“Pok tar, hot, with a…sir…loin.”

“Please specify size and temperature of sirloin.”

“Aha, that’s how it’s pronounced…uh…five hundred and sixty grams.  And hot.”

“Please specify one of the listed temperature settings for the sirloin.”

Kanor read the list that popped up on the screen of the replicator.  “Why would anyone want their meat burnt to a crisp?  Rare!  And throw in a large helping of some Vulcan spiced tea, hot.”

“Please specify size of tea in liters.”

“One and one half liters.”

With a soft humming sound, a steaming dish of Vulcan Pok tar, along with a slab of some oozing meat, appeared in the food alcove, with a tall, heavily scented flagon of spiced tea.  He felt his mouth water.  He grabbed the two items and headed into the office area of his quarters, the transparent door sliding aside at his approach. 

“Alright, Cypher.  So, most likely, a representative of one of those governments is aboard the Enterprise, and wants to keep tabs on me.”

“The odds still favor an independent operator, as well.”

Kanor sat down at the small table and reached for the chunk of steak with his right hand.  “Not convinced; going to stick with the government operative angle for now.  We need to identify this individual; catch them when they attempt to retrieve the data on their devices.”  He took a huge bite into the bloody meat, tearing at it with his teeth.  Just as the description had specified-slightly fatty, and flavorful. 

“Assuming they have not detected you have already deactivated their devices.”

Kanor shook his head as he continued to eat, talking around the food in his mouth.  “Soon as we’re done looking them over, I’m reassembling them.  I’ll remove their memory so they can’t actually record anything, but that way if the individual, or individuals, I suppose, stop by to verify they’re in operation, they can still receive a ping signal.”

“Then we need to establish our own surveillance outside in the corridor.”

“Could be tricky, but I can probably do so tomorrow, though probably not until the night shift.  I would think the memory will last at least that long.”

“It is more likely the operative will attempt retrieval during a more heavily trafficked period of time in the corridor, to better blend in.”

“Agreed.  So we’re looking at, most likely, the day after tomorrow.”  He dove into the Pok tar; while it was certainly not his mother’s recipe, or his father’s either, it was serviceable.  “What has been the status with the Hunt?”

“As the Commodore stated, it has not been disturbed, short of being loaded up for moving down to the cargo bay.  The cargo bay has remained the only detectable object in the bay.”

“Good.  I’ll journey down there tomorrow morning before meeting with Skid to retrieve my things, and the parcel.”

“Would it not be safer if you left the object aboard the Hunt?”

Kanor grunted as he ate; he had been mentally debating the merits of both for a while.  “Possibly.  However, Kaz knows I didn’t have it on me when they brought me aboard, therefore it would have to be on my ship.  I’ll let him go on thinking that’s where it is, and move it here, instead.”

“Kaz mentioned sharing his information on the ringed object with you, but you did not offer to share your knowledge of what lies inside the Federation parcel.”

“Nor will I.  If I do, I lose my main bargaining chip, and become a relatively disposable asset.  He knows that, which is why he didn’t press me on the matter.”

“You should make your visit to the ship to retrieve your personal belongings very visible, then not visibly return to it.  Or, if you do, make it clear you are not leaving with a large Federation package, for instance.”

“Good point.  I could bodyslide there to retrieve the object, then make a point of going with Skid to retrieve my personal effects later tomorrow.”

Kanor proceeded to talk with Cypher as he ate the rest of his meal, going over details about the Enterprise and her crew they had noticed, as well as speculating on things he had not been able to determine the importance of, such as James Brown, JJ Cale, and the circular plaques in the corridor.  Once he was finished, he belched loudly with satisfaction and stood up to begin removing his armor.  Stripped completely, he stretched and yawned before making his way over to where he had left the devices on the bed.  The office area would be a better place to look them over, now that he had pretty much secured the quarters.

After having moved them all, he sat down in the chair at the desk, finding the frigid contact with his bare flesh uncomfortable, despite the higher temperature he had enabled earlier.  He squirmed as he worked, his bruised genitals making the situation even more unpleasant.  Either he would install new chairs, or he would need to cover this one in some textile that would retain the warmth of the room better.  He preferred being nude in his home space, especially since he almost always wore armor outside of it.  Besides, he had locked the doors to the corridor upon entering.

Cypher helped him analyze the devices and their components as much as they could with their equipment at hand and the time constraints.  He found himself wanting to succumb to actual sleep since it had been so long, so he quickly reassembled the devices minus their memory units.

“Alright, Cypher.  Wake me at 0500 hours.  I’m going to…”

“Wow, you REALLY like it hot in here, don’t you?”

Marcie’s voice rang out from the foyer of his quarters, and Kanor’s head snapped towards the doctor as she came up to the open doorway separating the office area from the rest of his quarters.  She was wearing an overly large fuzzy-looking shirt that seemed to drape all the way down to her knees, almost like a dress.  It had some sort of animated anthropomorphic animal on the front, and was a slightly faded light blue.  She had slippers on her feet that had a representation of the character on her shirt on them as well.

Kanor shifted in the chair, attempting to use the desk and his hands to cover himself as much as possible.

“How DARE you enter my quarters unannounced and uninvited!”

Marcie only grinned, her eyes running over his frame for a brief moment.  “Oh please, it’s nothing I haven’t seen already today.  Besides, I’m a doctor; I see people without clothes all the time!  This place is like a sauna; it’s no wonder you took them off.”

“What are you doing here?  How did you get in?”

“I’m the chief medical officer on board; I have access codes to get into anyone’s quarters at any time, in case of a medical emergency.”

“I assure you, there is NO medical emergency!”

“You sustained injuries earlier today, I was checking up on you.  You really should be in bed by now, you know.  I wasn’t expecting you to be awake still.  Were you talking to someone?”

Kanor frowned as the young woman leaned against the doorframe and looked around.  Why would she be coming into his quarters, expecting him to be asleep?  Perhaps she was the one who had planted the devices?  He nudged one slightly with his shoulder towards her, trying to draw her attention to them, wanting to gauge her reaction.

“I talk to myself at times, it helps me think.  You stated I’d be fine with the balm you gave me, and that you expected me to be asleep.  You aren’t here to ‘check up’ on me.  Unless you make it a common practice to visit your patients in their quarters, in your sleepwear, late in the evening?”

Marcie’s face flushed a little, and she shrugged.  Her eyes drifted towards the piece Kanor had sent her direction, and she reached out to pick it up.  She handled it awkwardly, and after fiddling around with it, she tossed it back onto the desk absentmindedly.  If she was acting or putting on a show in regards to her ignorance with the device, she was doing a superb job of it.

“I…I was lonely.”  After tossing the device down, she stepped into the office and leaned against the edge of the desk facing him, clasping her hands in front of her, shifting her fingers nervously as she looked down at them.  “Jax and I hang out sometimes, but he’s so obsessed with his career, it’s not very often.  Skid and I talk, but it’s usually more like a…a mother and daughter or something.  Kaz has got Drei, Sh’lan is…was, an untrustworthy brute, and Selorus is just…well, Selorus is a coldhearted jerk, most of the time.”  Her eyes lifted to look at him.  “It’s hard to get too close to the rest of the crew when you know you might have to order them to their deaths as a member of the senior staff.  And…like I said, I like you.  I think we’ll be really good friends.”

Kanor’s eyebrows rose up significantly.  Did she want to sleep with him, was that what she was suggesting?  She was certainly very attractive physically; her personality was not something he was used to, yet he found her to be attractive in that manner as well.

“I was hoping you’d be asleep, so I could crawl into bed and curl up with you.  It’d…be nice to cuddle up with someone, you know?  I know Klingons aren’t exactly softies, but…well, like I keep saying, I feel like there’s a connection here, a trust.”

Kanor shifted in his seat as he weighed those possibilities, slightly aroused by the situation.  She was right, she had seen him already; and if she was going to engage in bedroom activities with him, she would undoubtedly see him more.

“I…was about to retire for the evening.”

Marcie’s eyes seemed to light up when he didn’t outright demand she leave right away, though they didn’t drift down over his body the way he thought they would.

“Really?  I knew I was right about you…it’ll be nice to sleep with someone who isn’t just trying to fuck me.”

Kanor’s brow furrowed in confusion as he stood up. 

“This ‘cuddling’ you speak of isn’t some form of intercourse?”

“Of course not!”  Marcie’s face scrunched up.  She glanced down as Kanor stood, her eyes widening.  She looked back up at him, stabbing a stiff finger against his torso as she frowned.  “We are NOT going to have sexual relations of any kind, so get that out of your ‘heads’ right now!”

“I…I don’t understand.”

She sighed in frustration.  “Were you honestly heading to bed to sleep?  As your doctor ordered you to, instead of sitting in here screwing around with these toys?”

“Yes.  I am fatigued.”

“Fine.  Go on, get in bed, then.  And if you dare try to take advantage of me, I will make what Skid did to you seem like a frolic in the park!  I’m a doctor, I know my anatomy!”

She glanced down at him again, but his initial arousal had faded completely, especially with his lack of understanding for the situation, and this seemed to placate her.  She followed behind him from the office area towards the bed.  Since she was apparently going to be joining him, he made sure he positioned himself on the right side of the bed.  In case this was an elaborate trap, she would be first within the line of fire from the doorway; he might even be able to use her as a living shield.

“Bleh.  This is normally how hot you prefer it in here?  I’m sweating.”

He looked over at her on the far side of the bed as he crawled in on his side awkwardly.  He wasn’t sure what to make of this situation, especially if they were not going to be engaging in sexual activity.  As he looked at her, she seemed to almost lift her long shirt up, but thought differently at the last second.

“It is the customary range, yes.  As both part Klingon and Vulcan, I am more comfortable in higher temperatures.”

She frowned.  “This’ll take some getting used to…computer, lights.”

The lights in his quarters shut off at her verbal command.  He found that annoying.  They were his quarters, they should only respond to his vocal commands.

“You can’t see me, correct?”

               The stars streaming by above outside the windows illuminated the cabin to a degree, but not directly over the bed.  It was probably very dark to her human vision.  He lied; he would not mention that tactical advantage.

               “No, only a vague outline, I think.”

               He watched her pull up her long shirt in both of her hands, bunching the material up, then tying it together just above her hips and navel.  She was wearing some form of undergarment around her posterior that also covered the area between her legs, though it left her thighs exposed.  It seemed to be joined to a thin blue band that encircled her waist.  That same animated character seemed to be featured on the material, as well.

               “Good, I hope that helps…”

               She mumbled under her breath, though he could hear her just fine, and crawled into bed with him.  She flailed a hand around over the bed for a minute until she found him on the far edge, and then turned her back to him, lying down on her side facing away from him.  She lifted his left arm and squirmed backwards until she felt his front press against her back.  To his surprise, she then draped the arm over her own body, tucking his hand against her bare stomach.

               He was really unsure what to make of the situation now.  This seemed so…intimate.  She maneuvered around a little to make herself more comfortable, even resting her left arm over his as it lay over her.  She reached up with her right arm to tug the pillow down so she could rest her head upon it, angling it so he could use it as well, despite their height difference.

               “Your body is practically a furnace, this is almost unbearable.  Computer, lower temperature to twenty-six degrees Celsius.”

               “That is FAR too…”

               “So hold me closer and absorb my body heat; you’re part human, too, you can learn to tolerate and be comfortable with the temperature.  This is cuddling; NON-sexual proximity between two individuals.  It’s meant to be comforting.  You’re just lucky I get cold easily and like it warmer myself normally anyways.”

               Kanor frowned, but had to admit, the physical closeness was…oddly pleasant.  That tingling sensation seemed to extend to everywhere their bare flesh came into contact with each other, but, given the situation, he was growing accustomed to it.  It still intrigued him, made him wary, even, but at least the uncomfortableness of it was diminishing the more it occurred.  Again, his nostrils were filled with that same cinnamon-like scent that seemed to come from her body.

               “You didn’t shower tonight, did you.” she said.

               “No…”

               “You really should do that tomorrow.  I like your…musk, but it’s a bit pungent at the moment.”

               Kanor wasn’t really sure how to respond to that, or the fact the fingertips of her left hand were moving to…stroke the skin of his left arm, the back of his hand.

               “I…was intending on doing that tomorrow anyways.”

               She sighed a little, and he felt her head shift back to lean against his chest. 

               “Good, it’ll be nice to simply enjoy the smell tomorrow night, instead of be distracted by it.”

               “You intend on doing this again tomorrow night, as well?”

               “Of course.  Doesn’t this feel nice?”

               Kanor didn’t respond.  He wasn’t sure how to.  He was naked, in bed with a strange, attractive human female who was partially clothed, and whose flesh contact seemed to illicit tingling tactile responses in his own body inexplicably.  And they weren’t having sex.  He was on board a ship surrounded by people he had entered a temporary, tenuous working relationship with, one of whom was extremely interested in his actions for unknown, seemingly sinister purposes.  He was in the midst of a group of mercenaries on their way back to their home base, where even more of their kind would be swarming.  He had been kidnapped and coerced; he felt like he was a pawn in someone else’s schemes, which did not sit well with him at all.  He had been fully aroused by an alluring redheaded woman who seemed almost Klingon, then promptly injured in a very demeaning and ego-deflating manner, to say nothing for the pain.  And, most important of all, he had still not been paid.  He would need to bring that up with Kaz tomorrow.  Marcie shifted slightly against him, refocusing his thoughts.  Her voice sounded…sleepy.

               “I hope you don’t snore…”

{{First off, I had to add a small bit to Chapter 2 a couple of nights ago, as the original beginning to this chapter I realized needed to be at the end of the last.  So, if you missed that, make sure to check that out before proceeding.  Secondly, this was a tough chapter to write.  Some personal things kept coming back as I was trying to write through these events, so it took more effort than normal keeping things on track and in-line as they should be.  Hopefully I was successful in keeping things separated properly.}}

Kanor stared straight ahead as the turbolift car he was sharing with Skid took them down to the ship’s armory.  Short of ordering the turbolift car where to take them upon entering, Skid hadn’t said anything since they had left Selorus in Kaz’s office.  He wasn’t about to engage her in conversation himself.  Deck seven wasn’t that far of a ride.

“Well, boyo, looks like we’re going to get the warm, fuzzy pleasure of each other’s company after all.”

Kanor didn’t really understand the point of the statement, so he decided not to say anything.  If he showed no weakness in responding, perhaps she would be inclined to resume silence.

Her expression and tone of voice changed.  “I can tell already it’s going to be a rip-roaring good time…”

He couldn’t help but frown at that.  “Human women engage in a form of roaring?”

She snorted.  “Only when they’re pissed.  And who said I’m human, hmm?”

Kanor’s eyebrows raised up as his eyes swept over Skid’s body, looking for any signs he may have missed of an alternative ancestry.  While the jumpsuit prevented him from seeing everything, of course, he couldn’t detect any anatomical oddities, though he supposed the garment was somewhat loose.  “You appear human in every way; I wasn’t aware you possessed an alternative gene pool.”

When his eyes returned to Skid’s emerald gaze, he found her smirking at him.  “Was that a poor excuse to check me out again?  You don’t need my permission, ya know.  Or an excuse.”

Kanor’s eyes widened at her implication; he hadn’t meant that to be implied at all.  “Not at all, I was simply…I was NOT asking permission…”

She outright laughed at that.  “I may appear human; I assure you, I’m not.  It’s good to see you CAN blush, at least.”

Kanor’s brow furrowed as he reached up to touch his right cheek with his hand.  He didn’t blush; he was quite certain Klingons didn’t even possess the capability of such an act.  The turbolift eased to a stop, the doors whished open, and Skid promptly stepped out onto the deck.  He frowned deeper as he followed her. 

Skid greeted a couple of passing Tellarite crewmembers who walked by, a male and female, each wearing white leotards of some kind.  Judging from the grey towels around their necks and the pungent porcine scent that assaulted his olfactory senses, he guessed there was a gym or workout center of some kind on this deck as well.  They seemed happy to see Skid, but their beady little eyes didn’t know quite what to make of Kanor as he followed in her wake. 

“Ya know, ya could try smiling every once in a while.  Surely your mouth isn’t frozen into place like those ridges on your forehead, right?”

They were going down a long curvature in the corridor, now; Kanor guesstimated this deck seven was in the middle of (or near to it) the saucer area of the Enterprise.  There were several crewmembers milling about, now; some going the same direction, others the opposite.  A few here and there were simply standing to one side of the corridor conversing.  People seemed to be at least partially aware of each other, and would lean out of the way to make room as others passed, or simply step aside, in some cases.  Everyone seemed to be getting well out of their way, however; judging by the cordiality and smiles shown towards Skid by each crew member they passed, Kanor assumed it was him.  Well, he was a tall, broad-shouldered humanoid.  And he had yet to see a single Klingon anywhere. 

“Of course it isn’t.  I simply don’t see the point in it at this moment.”

“Really?  Your life that terrible, then?”

“It has been better, but it is not terrible, no.”

She snorted through her nose again.  She seemed to do that a lot; he determined it was derisive in nature the majority of the time.  “What happened to that pleasant, I’d daresay-flirty-fellow who was being held up at phaser-point earlier, hmm?  The swashbuckling rakish rogue?”

“You clearly don’t like me, or my presence aboard your ship, your…Lady.”

She glanced back at him, an eyebrow arched.  “She is a Lady; you’d do best to remember that.  Not mine, but absolutely a Lady.”  She turned right down a branching off corridor, and he followed along behind her, of course.  “You scared the piss out of poor Ash earlier.  And you assaulted Munson-AFTER somehow transporting right out from under his nose.”  She shot him a scathing look.  “Don’t think we missed THAT little ability you seem to have utilized.”  She turned left, heading down a much smaller corridor that didn’t seem to be nearly as well trafficked.  “No, I don’t take kindly to my mates being attacked.  Especially my drinkin buddies.”

“In my situation, I am sure all of you would have done the same.  Keep in mind, I incapacitated Mister Munson, I did not injure or kill him.  As for your Bolian friend…”  He frowned a bit.  “He should not have been there.  Sh’lan chose poorly in including him on that guard detail.”

“Hmph.  Sh’lan chose poorly quite a bit.”  She stopped a few meters short of the end of the corridor, where a pair of heavy-duty blast doors stood closed.  “You know how to use those weapons of yours we confiscated equally as well as those hands, I take it?”

Kanor felt insulted by the mere suggestion he didn’t, and didn’t bother to try and hide it.  “Of course I do.”

Skid stepped up closer to him, her face getting right up into his.  At least, as close as it could; she seemed to be of average height for most humanoids, but he was significantly taller.  He felt a wave of some…earthy scent reach his nose, spiced with a splash of wildflowers of some sort.  Natural, not artificial.  “Then know if you ever try to use them against me or mine, you will find yourself being bloody well tested on their use very thoroughly. “

From anyone else, he may have laughed; or at least been amused.  But he could hear the absolute certainty in her voice as she stated that matter-of-factly; could see those vibrantly emerald eyes flash with a fire that seemed to match the waves of hair falling from her scalp.  He had seen the way she handled his mek’leth earlier; had witnessed her accuracy with a firearm.  It was no idle threat, more like…a promise.  Despite himself, he couldn’t deny the urges that seemed to stir in his blood.

“Then I almost wish I was intending to, so I could be.”

A slow, beguiling smile creeped over Skid’s face in the silence after his response.  “There he is…” she murmured.  She “harrumphed” as she stepped back away from him.  “Sit tight a sec.”

She spun around and continued the rest of the way to the console on the right of the armory doors that ended the corridor.  Making sure to use her body to block his view of the control panel, he heard her fingers punch in a sequence on the controls, followed up by voice authorization.

“Commander Skid, alpha beta beta three.”

The earlier reference to him as a “swashbuckling rakish rogue” was perplexing.  He had no facial hair, and he was no pirate.  An image of dueling Skid flashed through his mind abruptly; blades clashing, the two of them circling each other, looking for an avenue of attack, testing each other’s physical and mental strength…

“Commander Skid, ma’am; once again, I respectfully request the decision to re-arm this…person be re-evaluated.”

Kanor was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Ensign Munson’s voice coming from up ahead, where the armory doors had opened.  His lips tightened into a thin line at his indiscretion.  Entering into a hostile situation, and he was thinking about mating overtures.  It hadn’t been that long; he needed to get control of himself.

“Trust me, Mister Munson; I’d like nothing more than to side with you on this one.  However, this came from above.  You know how stubborn he is.”

Kanor assumed they were referring to Commodore Kaz.  Munson stood at a small workstation, located on the far side of a small foyer-like area within the armory doors.  The Ensign grimaced as he looked past Skid to Kanor, who simply stood where Skid had instructed him to wait, his arms akimbo.  Munson sighed, then reached out to tap in a sequence of commands into the console in front of him.  There was a shimmering in the air as a forcefield was deactivated, then Skid stepped into the foyer, past where Munson stood facing Kanor still, and through another set of doors behind Munson, which closed behind her.  Kanor was itching for a fight; Skid had made him restless.

“Well, this certainly seems familiar, doesn’t it?”

Munson had shifted into a military “at ease” pose as they both waited for Skid to retrieve Kanor’s possessions, but it was clear he was tense and on-edge.  His eyes narrowed, but he made no move to reach for the phaser holstered on his hip.

“Better not blink, wouldn’t want me to storm the armory doors or anything.  Or who knows, maybe I’ll simply just appear behind you and…”

The twitch in Munson’s left cheek was stopped by Skid walking out of the inner doors again.  She stopped short, her gaze moving from Munson to Kanor quickly, before frowning as she continued through the outer doors.  She punched the package of Kanor’s items into his chest as she walked by, growling.

“We’re going to your quarters.  Now.”

Kanor’s eyes flashed at the sound of Skid’s growl.  He really wanted to get violent.  She was already halfway down the corridor, however, and he doubted anyone would like it if he got in another physical altercation with a member of the Enterprise’s security personnel. 

“Next time, reactivate the force field once the officer has entered!”

Munson visibly bristled at the reprimand as the armory doors began to close, but Kanor had already spun around to follow Skid, his long stride easily eating up the corridor length between them.  He was basking in the insult he had gotten to deliver to Munson in departing; turning his back upon him, physically scoffing at Munson’s abilities as a warrior and deeming him unworthy as a threat.  It made his fingers clench around the container he carried as he grinned broadly.  Skid made the right turn ahead of him that led away from the armory corridor.

“This Ensign Munson has been relegated to armory guard duty, then?  A fitting…”

A booted foot hit him squarely against the side of his jaw as he rounded the corridor corner, making him stumble slightly.  His eyes flashed, his blood practically boiling inside, as he dropped the package he had been carrying.  The fist that Skid sent his way almost immediately as a follow-up to her kick was instinctually captured by his left hand, and he promptly jabbed his right hand out to Skid’s left side.  She twisted her body to deflect the worst of the blow, in turn trying to free her right arm, but he wouldn’t let go.  Her left arm jabbed out to hit his solar plexus, but he simply let her land the blow; he was still wearing his armor.  Instead, his right hand darted out to grasp her mane of red hair, yanking her hair back, baring her throat. 

“You will learn some bloody fucking respect for the members of this crew!” she snarled.

Kanor’s nostrils flared, his body humming with the song of battle, his lips curling to bare his teeth as he grinned.  Oh, this was glorious!  “First you must EARN it!”

She growled, jamming the heel of her hand up towards Kanor’s face.  Kanor saw the blow coming and ducked his head, taking the blow on his thick cranial plating.  A belly laugh bubbled up from Kanor’s thick chest as he used his greater strength to slam Skid’s body up against the far wall of the corridor.  He brutally tugged her hair down and pushed against her upper body using the arm of hers he was grasping, forcing her cranium to smack against the surface he had her pressed against.  He savored the feel of her body against him, the pained fury he saw in her eyes.  He was just about to repeat the head slam again, when he felt five pillars of pain burrow into his groin area, immediately making his hands go slack and his eyes widen as he gasped.  Skid bared her own teeth as her eyes flashed with triumph.

“GET. YOUR. HANDS. OFF. ME!”

Kanor’s broad chest heaved as he greedily sucked in air, his fingers splaying out as he held them up in the air and away from Skid.  A gurgling noise bubbled from his throat as she clenched her fingers and dug them in even deeper against his body, but he refused to vocalize his pain.  The swelling bosom of her overalls rose and fell rapidly as she tried to regain her own composure, but their glares never left each other’s, neither willing to be the first to back down.  She shook the hand he had been clasping, where the outlines of his fingers could be seen in stark contrast on her pale, lightly freckled skin.  She reached behind her hand to touch the back of her head carefully, and her fingers came back with small traces of red blood upon them.  She growled, not looking at them, not breaking their stare-off, but feeling the warmth of the liquid. 

“I’ll say it one more ti…”

Skid was interrupted by the clearing of someone’s throat.  “Uh…Commander Skid, sir?”

“WHAT?!”

“Should I uh…call security, ma’am?  The bridge, maybe?”

Kanor could see someone standing on the edge of his peripheral vision, but wasn’t about to back down or submit to Skid and look, vise-like grip on his genitals be damned.  Skid, apparently, wasn’t willing to either.

“What is your name and rank, crewman?”

“Uh…Dieter, ma’am.  Chief Petty Officer.  I’m a nurse.  I was passing…”

Skid’s eyes flicked away, and Kanor felt a momentary surge of success, especially when he felt her grip on his genitals loosen.  However, even as he attempted to ignore the buzzing, piercing pain between his legs, he felt Skid’s shoulder slam into his gut.  Feminine hands grasped his body, and he was abruptly airborne.  He landed flat on his back, the impact rattling his teeth, making his vision blur momentarily as the wind was knocked out of him.  She had thrown him!  He could count on one hand the number of individuals who had thrown him before!  Dazed at the turn of events, Kanor blinked, seeing a blonde man’s spiked head peer down over him as the red-faced and sweaty Skid leaned over as well.

“Well, then, Chief; help me get this oaf over to Sickbay.”

Skid was panting as she drew a phaser, adjusted a dial along the side, then pointed it at him with her left hand.  Kanor gritted his teeth at the pain in his crotch, but forced himself to sit up.  A flash of red light flooded his vision, however, and he fell back down to the deck with a thud.

                                                                           ***

“…already waking back up?!  Bloody fookin marvey, he’s like a fookin sonuva…”

Kanor grunted as red exploded on the insides of his eyelids before he could reopen them.  His head thudded back against something hard.

                                                                           ***

“…around again, sir.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Skid, put that thing away!  It’s my Sickbay, I’ll take care of it.”

He heard the faint hiss of a hypospray, and managed to crack his eyes open just enough to see silky, shiny black hair move in his field of vision before he felt everything go fuzzy.

                                                                           ***

 “…nor, I’ve detected you’ve gone unconscious three times in the past hour.  Due to your lack of response in the past twenty minutes, I have administered a stimulant.  Though your captors have vacated the immediate vicinity, I have concluded they will notice the change in your levels within minutes, if not seconds.  The probability they will then discover my presence is nearly absolute.  Again, Kanor, I’ve detected…”

Cypher was speaking to him.  He fought back the urge to moan; his genitals still throbbed with pain, and his head felt like it had photon torpedoes exploding inside of it constantly.  Cypher was still repeating her speech of his current situation, but he was tuning it out.  If what she said was true, he needed to move, and responding to her verbally might alert the Enterprise crew before they otherwise would be.  His eyes opened, and he blinked, trying to quickly assess the area as his vision started to clear.  He was in a sickbay, on a biobed.  Looked Federation-style, though not one he had seen before.  When he tried to sit up, he discovered a restraint had been placed across the majority of his torso.  His motions started a beeping sound to come from monitoring equipment above his head, and he growled in frustration.  At least Cypher had stopped repeating herself.

“My oh my, you do seem to wake up remarkably well, even when I’ve administered some drugs that should have kept you down for a good hour, at least.”

Doctor O’Neil came walking into the room from a doorway on the right beyond his feet.  There was that smile that seemed to light up a room.  As enjoyable of a sight as he found it to be, his lips formed a deep frown.  He slammed his arms up against the restraint that arched over him keeping them pinned against his torso.

“I demand to be released!”

She leaned over, resting her arms along the restraint above him, and tilted her head at him admonishingly.  “Now Kanor.  I put you in restraints because I knew this was how you’d react upon waking up.  I’ll happily take them off, but you’ve got to cool down some first, mister.  No angry rants in my Sickbay.  Especially no violence!”

Kanor scowled.  “Am I injured in some way, DOCTOR?”

“I told you to call me Marcie.  I don’t let just everyone call me that, so consider it a privilege.”  She glanced up past his head to the monitors set in the wall above the bed.  “Huh.  You shouldn’t have that in your system for any reason…”  She looked back down at him, a mischievous grin spreading over her features slowly.  “Sneaky.”  She chuckled, smirking.  “And to answer your question, no; I mean I’m sure you’ve got a whopping headache, and you’ve definitely got bruises.”  She glanced behind her shoulder for a moment, then leaned in even closer to him, her eyes seeming to dance.  The scent of cinnamon seemed to waft up to his nostrils.  “Between you and me, your twig-well, tree-and berries are pretty bad, but I’ll give you some ointment to put on those, since I’m assuming you’ll want to use them for pleasure again someday.  Should cut down the worst of it to a few hours, at most.”

Kanor’s eyes widened, the heated retort he had on his lips halted dead.

“Aww, you CAN blush!  I wonder if that’s the Vulcan or Human aspect of your genes?  Klingons, of course, don’t have that capability.”

Kanor closed his eyes for a moment, taking a slow, deep breath and trying to exert some control over himself.  He used one of the multitude of exercises his mother had tried to teach him that he had never been good with.  It certainly had never become one of his strong points over the years since.  When he opened his eyes again, the Doct…Marcie, he corrected himself, was watching him quietly.

“Marcie, why am I here, then, if I am not injured?”

She grinned again.  “Decent; that almost sounded polite and civil, versus brimming with hostility.  We’re going to be good friends, Kanor; just you wait and see.”  She straightened up and reached up past his head to hit a few switches on the equipment above him, glancing over them briefly.  “For the most part, you’re pretty much fine.  Skid brought you here because SHE’S the one who needed some medical attention.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone beat her up like that before, not even Sh’lan, and he was probably the only one that ever came close to one-upping her.”

Kanor frowned.  “Yet I am the one who was knocked unconscious and forced to back down.”

Marcie shrugged.  “Well sure, when she grabbed that beast and his buddies between your legs.  Last resort kind of move.  Dieter had to give her a stimulant once you were out so she’d last long enough to help him get you down here.”

Kanor couldn’t help but grin at that.  So, she had reacted that way because she had felt cornered.  She had the fire of a Klingon woman in her veins!

“You actually LIKED that, didn’t you?”

Kanor was startled out of his reverie as he turned to find Marcie grinning broadly down at him.  “What are you implying?”

She punched his shoulder with a suppressed giggle.  “Oh man, I’ve always heard Klingons like it rough, but sheesh!  Did you think she was trying to mate with you?”

Kanor frowned.  “Neither of us bit each other!”

Marcie rolled her eyes and shook her head.  “Wow.  Looks like I’ll have to polish up on my knowledge of Klingon mating rituals.  Okay, humans don’t initiate sex by throwing kicks and punches, or trying to kill each other.  Well, not most of the time, anyways…”

Kanor arched an eyebrow at her.  “I thought Skid wasn’t human?”

She waved a hand dismissively.  “She’s close enough.  And if, supposedly, you weren’t trying to fuck her, we DO have facilities aboard where you can go to get some of that aggression out.  Kick some butt, do some fighting...and NOT send anyone to me in here.”

“What’s the point, then?”

Marcie sighed.  “Alright, look.  Can I release these restraints without you going ape and throwing stuff on me?”

“I am clearly not an ape, nor do I fling excrement; but yes, you can release the restraints and I’ll behave.”

 “Alright, then.  Kaz left a few minutes before you woke up; he gave Skid quite a talking to.  I’m assuming she’ll show you to your quarters and call it a night, providing you don’t try to kill each other again.”  She reached out to tap a specific sequence into a control panel along the side of the bed, and the restraint pulled back, recessing itself back into the biobed.  As he sat up and swung his feet around and off of the bed, she took his left hand and placed a small bottle into it.  Again, that uncomfortable sensation as their flesh touched.

“I would have put it on myself earlier, but I took a little too long to gape in awe, and didn’t want to give the wrong impression when Kaz looked in on you.”

Kanor averted his eyes as he took the bottle, his brow knitting at that unsettling thought, as well.  This woman had seen parts of his body bared few had.

“Just uh…apply all over the erm…problem areas.  Like I said, should make that pain go away by bedtime if you apply it now.”

He got to his feet, glancing up to see Marcie simply standing there, her hands on her hips, looking at him.  He looked at her questioningly.

“Rrrrright.  I mean, I’ve seen everything already, I had to, but you probably want some…yeah.  Okay.”  Her own cheeks flushed, Marcie turned and walked back through the doorway she had come in.

Once he was sure she was gone, Kanor took stock of himself.  His body ached, but it felt good, in its own way.  He’d deal with the headache, and hopefully this balm would help with the throbbing below.  The stimulant Cypher had given him, and whatever Marcie had injected him with, were probably keeping the worst of it at bay for now.  His armor had been removed, but it was sitting on the floor, propped up against the wall.  He should really revisit wearing his crotch armor regularly; the initial discomfort would be worth it.  Marcie had left on the black formfitting clothes he normally wore beneath his armor, though they weren’t sitting properly on his frame.  After readjusting it all, he carefully did some self-inspection downstairs. 

Skid had indeed done a number on him.  He unfastened the bottle, his nose scrunching up at the atrocious stench that seemed to emanate from it, and delicately applied the balm.  It was an unpleasant sensation, having the cold gel-like substance against his flesh, but he had no intentions of letting that part of his anatomy get damaged permanently if he could help it.  Occasionally he would apply too much pressure or bump something down there just right, and grimace at the sensations it caused; he tried to convert that to determination and resolve.  He would need to deal with Skid again afterwards.

After donning his armor, noting that the balm seemed to be helping to some degree already, Kanor made his way through the door Marcie had left through earlier, as it was the only one in the room.  He was at the end of a short hallway with a couple of other neighboring rooms to his left, but he headed for the exit down the hallway that was on the right.

“There he is!  You must really like that armor; you know, you were a bit…musky when I got it all off earlier.”

Marcie was in an open office to his left, sitting behind a desk perpendicular to the door, facing him.   In front of her, sat Skid.  Her back was to him, initially, but she turned in her seat to look at him coolly.  Kanor looked back at Marcie, who was getting to her feet. 

“I have had it on for quite a while, doing many extraneous activities.  I sweat.”

“What, Klingons have never heard of antiperspirants?”

“Antiperspirants haven’t heard of Klingons, is more appropriate.”

“Can’t say I’ve ever heard of a Klingon, or his ship, that didn’t smell like arse.”

Marcie made an admonishing sound at Skid as she came around the desk, stopping in the doorway to the office.  “I didn’t say he smelled bad, I said he smelled musky; very distinct difference.”  She stepped up to him, glancing down at his hands, her nostrils flaring slightly as she sniffed.  “Besides, now he smells like potpourri!”

Kanor frowned.  “That smelled absolutely awful, if that’s what that stench was.”

Marcie’s expression seemed to falter at that.  Skid, meanwhile, got to her feet behind Marcie and turned to face him.  Marcie was short, he’d estimate around one and a half meters; so he had an unobstructed view of Skid’s face as she looked at him.  It was tight, pained; and annoyed. 

“I apologize for assaulting you in the corridor earlier.”

Kanor’s back straightened at the unexpected apology.  Judging from the look on her face, he assumed this was not something she was doing on her own, or because she genuinely wanted to.  She continued before he could think of a response.

“As your escort, it is my duty to show you the different areas of the ship, and assist you in the task Kaz has placed in front of you for your part of the payment.  Not correct your…behavior.” 

She seemed to spit that last word out.  Marcie, meanwhile, bit her lower lip and stepped to one side.  “If…you two are going to behave, I think I’ll go clean up Kanor’s room, since I let Dieter go off-duty early…”

They both seemed to wait until Marcie had disappeared down the way Kanor had just come from, so Kanor made sure to speak first.

“I apologize for the way I was…behaving.”  He paused for a moment, his jaw working as he tried to think of a better way to say what the issue was.  His parents had been the diplomats, not him.  “I let my own…personal issues get in the way of performing my duty to your ship and crew.”

Skid, though she seemed taken aback by his response, couldn’t help but interject.  “What the bloody hell do you have against Munson?”

Kanor spoke through clenched teeth as he simply stared straight ahead at some decorative piece Marcie had in her office on the wall next to a dark viewport.  “Your…presence, elicits a…physical response.”

“So ya get angry and ridicule my friend?  Nearly beat the shit outta me?  I don’t know how Klingons charm a girl…”

“You seemed flirtatious before.”

“Well I was, that doesn’t mean…”

“Our…sexual interactions are usually very physical.  Oftentimes, violence, seduction, and intercourse go hand in hand.  You threatened me…”

“Yeah, I was fookin threatening you!”

Kanor moved his gaze to look at her directly, his eyes flashing.  “Yes, and it was exhilarating!  Passion, bravery, heart!”

Skid’s eyes widened as she stepped back a bit.  “That turned you ON?”

“I…felt the strong desire to get violent, to…exert my dominance.”

“So what, you exerted it on Munson?  I didn’t think you were interes…”

“He is a male; I am clearly more powerful than he is.  I was asserting myself to you as the worthier choice.”

“Of COURSE you were!”  Skid snorted, throwing her hands up in the air.  “So clearly, after getting kicked in the face, you decided to assert it even more.”

Kanor cleared his throat.  “Klingon women express a desire to mate with dominant males they find attractive by biting or striking them.”

Skid looked at Kanor in disbelief, her mouth open.  “Wait wait wait, you thought I was trying to have SEX with you?  You nearly knocked me unconscious!  I’m lucky you didn’t give me a concussion!”

“My mates usually have much thicker skulls than you do.  In the heat of the moment, I did not think to compensate.”

They were silent for a few moments after that, each of them trying to reconcile what had happened.  Finally, as the guilt gnawed at him more, Kanor had to ask.

“Are you going to be alright?  It was not my intent to…permanently injure you.”

Skid sighed, nodding her head.  “I’m beaten up and sore, but for the most part, I’ll be fine eventually.  My skull is pretty bloody thick.  Besides, Marcie’s good, though she told me I should relax the rest of the night after I take you to your quarters.”

Marcie chose that moment to come back down the hallway.  She looked between the two of them as she passed by on her way back into her office.  “Aren’t you two gone yet?  Once you eat, you should both be in bed sleeping, or at least on your way there.”

Skid turned back to look at him.  “Ready to try this again?”

“Yes.  Although I seem to have lost my things yet again.”

She waved a hand dismissively.  “I had an Ensign take them to your quarters.  You’re fookin heavy; Dieter and I had to get a stretcher to bring you down here, but we still had to hoist you onto the thing in the first place.  Wasn’t about to mess with that, too.”

“Then let’s listen to the Doctor.”

Saying their goodbyes to Marcie, Skid walked towards a doorway that was slightly off-centered from the doorway to Marcie’s office, with Kanor not far behind.  As they stepped out into the corridor beyond, Kanor noted how differently Skid seemed to be moving.  Though she wasn’t voicing or otherwise expressing it, she looked sore.

“Marcie indicated there were exercise facilities aboard, as well?”  The corridor didn’t seem to be as crowded as before, so he decided to walk beside her as they navigated it.

She glanced over at him with her eyes for a moment.  “There are.  I usually make use of them myself every day, though I can’t say it prepared me for close-quarters combat with a brute as well as I would have liked.”

Kanor felt odd at her having referred to him as a brute, though he didn’t quite understand why.  “Perhaps you could show them to me tomorrow so that I may use them myself.  I am not used to having specific facilities to practice in.”

“Tomorrow, then.  0700. You’ll want to bring anything you’d like to use with you.”

They turned into a small alcove where a set of turbolift doors were stationed.  The car wasn’t there at the moment, so they waited within the sensor’s detection range until one was routed to them.

“Does the Enterprise operate on a twenty-eight hour per day system?”

“Twenty-four, actually.  Kaz loves his human culture.”

“Ah.  Where are your chronometers located, then?”

“All over, really.”  Kanor heard the faint hum of a turbolift car approaching as Skid tapped a couple of buttons on the panel next to the closed doors.  “There.  19:17.  Any computer panel will work; or you could just ask the computer directly.”

Kanor did some mental calculating in his head as the turbolift doors finally swished open to reveal the empty car, and the two of them stepped in.  He was not used to paying much attention to time schedules of different planets and stations.  He slept when he was tired, and was awake when he wasn’t.  However, occasionally he would need to adapt for the needs of a specific mission or job; this would be no different. 

“Understood.  Where am I to meet you at 0700, then?”

Skid twisted one of the turbolift handles.  “Deck five.”  She looked over at Kanor.  “I’ll stop by your quarters.  Be ready for a workout.”

Kanor tilted his head to one side.  “You intend on participating, even in your current condition?”

Skid gave him an admonishing look.  “My ‘condition’?  I’ll be fine, Mister Kanor, don’t you worry your wrinkly little head about me.”

Her demeanor still seemed a bit clipped.  Kanor speculated whether or not he had damaged her pride with their earlier encounter.  That she seemed determined to continue with her daily routine spoke well of her, however.  He wondered whether or not his admission at thinking of her as a potential mate bothered her, as well.  He had not spent much time around non-Klingons; it was difficult to interpret other cultures values and social niceties. 

The car stopped, and they exited onto deck five.  Skid still hadn’t said anything else, so he simply walked beside her to wherever they were going.  For whatever reason, this time the silence bothered him. 

“I was told I’d be able to access my ship at any time?”

“It’s in cargo bay five.  There’s nothing else there, so you shouldn’t have any problems.”

“At what time will we be arriving in Independent Fleet space?”

She stopped, finally, at a pair of doors, and proceeded to enter some commands into the computer interface beside them.  “Our e.t.a. is 1500 tomorrow.  I’m sure Kaz will call upon you before then.” 

The doors to the room opened as Skid gestured inside with her hands.  He didn’t like the notion of Kaz “calling on” him tomorrow, but, in the interest of smoother relations, he ignored it.

“These will be your quarters while you’re aboard.  Just inside you’ll find a food dispenser unit and a replicator.  We don’t have any Klingon dishes, but I’m sure you can find something palatable.  Your belongings should be just inside.  I assume you’ll be able to figure everything else out; the computer system has a help menu.”

She clearly wanted to be rid of him as soon as possible.  While he couldn’t blame her, he was curious as to what was running through her mind at the moment.  “Thank you.  I assume I’ll see you at 0700, then.”

“I said I’d be here, I’ll be here.”

“Then I hope you feel better in the morning, Commander.”

She seemed irritated at that.  “I said I’m fine.  Use the intercom if there is a problem.”  With that, she turned and headed further down the corridor.  Kanor watched her for a few moments, but turned his head away when he found his mind wandering to what she’d look like outside of that jumpsuit.  Time to investigate his temporary new living quarters.