Star Trek: Typhon Pact 04 - Paths of Disharmony

by Dayton Ward

  That made Chen laugh. Deactivating her tricorder, she set the device on the desk next to the work mat before turning back to her friend. “Okay, enough of that. What’s up?”

  “We were going to play racquetball tonight, remember?” Elfiki asked, crossing her arms. “Konya and Faur have been making noise about challenging us to a rematch, and I’m in the mood to wipe the court with them again. If we’re going to beat them even worse than we did last time, we should probably get in some practice before we officially throw down the gauntlet.”

  Chen could not help laughing at the aggressive edge her friend was now exhibiting. When she had met Dina Elfiki upon first reporting for duty aboard the Enterprise a year earlier, the young science officer had always seemed content to spend her off-duty hours holed up in her quarters. Her favorite pastime appeared to be reading, often while accompanied by music from her rather large and diverse collection featuring selections spanning most of the Federation’s member worlds. During the ensuing months, Chen and Elfiki had become friends, with Chen learning that in addition to possessing a razor-sharp wit and a penchant for practical jokes, Elfiki harbored a competitive edge almost as deep-seated as her own. She only needed someone of like mind to bring her out of her shell after the normal period of adjustment to a new duty assignment.

  Busted out of her shell, is more like it.

  “What are they saying now?” Chen asked.

  Elfiki replied, “That our win in the tournament was a fluke. They’re calling us out, Trys. You know we can’t just let that pass.”

  From chess to poker to racquetball, the science officer was a formidable competitor, employing a level of tenacity and even stubbornness that had become the stuff of much good-natured, respectful ribbing aboard ship. Chen and Elfiki had won an informal tournament last month, defeating the heavily favored team of Lieutenants Rennan Konya and Joanna Faur. The match had been broadcast live for the benefit of anyone who might want to watch it, and according to what Chen had heard, the betting was fast and furious. Only a handful of brave souls came out winners, but their reward reportedly was substantial after casting their allegiance—and their credits—with the underdogs.

  “So, they’re talking a big game, are they?” Chen asked, unable to suppress a mischievous grin. “Fine, here’s what you do. Tell them we accept their challenge, but the losers have to run naked through the officers’ mess during dinner.” She bobbed her eyebrows. “Let’s see how brave they are after that.”

  The smile faded from Elfiki’s face, though only a bit. “Whoa, there. I don’t know about that. What if we lose?”

  “We’re not going to lose,” Chen countered, her grin widening. “Besides, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Rennan naked.”

  Elfiki eyed her with suspicion. “Everything okay between you two?”

  Realizing how what she had just said might be misinterpreted, Chen waved away her friend’s concerns. “Oh, no. Nothing like that. We were never really that much of a thing, despite . . . well . . . you know.”

  “You mean the security lock on your door all those nights?” Elfiki asked.

  “It wasn’t anything more than that,” Chen insisted, rising from her chair. “We both knew that going in.” Crossing her quarters to the replicator set into the far wall, she ordered the computer to provide her with a glass of chilled water. As the glass materialized, she said, “You know he’s been seeing Dr. Hegol, right? He had a pretty tough time of it after the Borg.”

  Nodding, Elfiki said, “He’s mentioned it a few times, but we’ve never really talked about it.”

  “He says he’s doing a lot better,” Chen said before taking a sip of her water, “but there’s definitely something different about him the past couple of months. He’s always been serious about his work, but lately that’s the only thing he seems to care about. I’ve gone looking for him, you know, after hours, and more often than not I’ve found him in the holodeck running some kind of security training simulation, and I don’t mean the normal range of drills, either. I’m talking about full-blown tactical exercises, crisis and threat situations, combat. You’d think he was making a move to ground forces or something.”

  “You know what he told us,” Elfiki said, her expression one of concern. “He admitted he was feeling something like survivor’s guilt. It’s what he talked to Dr. Hegol about.”

  Chen nodded as she sipped her water. She and Rennan Konya had shared an on-again, off-again casual romantic relationship for quite some time now, though Chen would certainly classify it lately as more of the “off-again” variety. During one of the times they had been together, several months earlier, Konya had admitted his troubled feelings to her, and the discussions he had undertaken with Dr. Hegol Den, the Enterprise’s senior counselor. Konya had expressed his feelings of inadequacy, blame, and dishonor at having survived the Borg war while many of the men and women he had ordered into battle had died in action. Dr. Hegol, according to Konya, had been understanding yet straightforward when telling the security officer that he had to find a way to examine the scorn and condemnation he had heaped upon himself.

  Apparently, Rennan Konya’s prescription for dealing with the guilt he carried was to immerse himself in his work. If he was not on duty, then he was undertaking some form of training class or conducting a simulation or other exercise drill on one of the holodecks. His physical-training regimen was much talked about among the ship’s junior officers. Along with the usual scheduled workouts in which he participated with his security teams, he often was seen in the fitness center exercising alone. Though he remained pleasant and approachable, Chen and others had sensed an air about him that communicated his desire not to engage in small talk or other social interactions whenever he was focused on a particular task, which seemed to be all the time. His duties and any means he might employ to improve himself in those areas seemed to have become his primary focus, to the near exclusion of everything else.

  Including me, at least a lot of the time.

  As though reading her thoughts, Elfiki said, “Are you sure you two are okay?”

  Chen made a dismissive wave with her free hand before drinking the last of the water in her glass. “Yeah, of course. He’s just working things out. You know how it is.”

  “God,” Elfiki said, rolling her eyes. “I could write a book about the men I’ve known who’ve had to go off and work things out. I’m pretty sure I’m the thing they’re working out, though.” Then, her eyes narrowed. “You’re not seeing somebody else, are you?”

  The way she stated the question made Chen regard her with suspicion. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Oh, come on!” Elfiki said, moving across the room to sit on Chen’s bed. “Are you going to tell me there’s nothing going on with you and Taurik?”

  Chen’s eyes nearly bugged out of their sockets. “Wait. What? No! What are you talking about?” Were rumors circulating about her and Taurik? If so, how had she not heard about them before now?

  Smiling, Elfiki said, “Relax. I’m just teasing you. Still, he’s not such a bad guy. You could do a lot worse.”

  “You make that sound like some sort of challenge,” Chen quipped. “Have we met? I’m the queen of doing a lot worse.” Her track record with dating was, in a word, disastrous. What she had shared with Konya easily was the best relationship she had ever experienced, and even that was more physical than emotional. Or, was it?

  Shut up, she chided herself.

  Elfiki laughed. “Well, you two do have some things in common.”

  “What?” Chen asked. “That we’re both from Vulcan? You do realize that if it wasn’t for the ears, nobody would ever know I had any Vulcan heritage. If Surak himself were alive today and met me, he’d probably renounce logic and all that other stuff just long enough to drop-kick me out an airlock.”

  “Maybe,” Elfiki said, “but I doubt Taurik would do that. You know that you’ll have to make the first move with him, right? He’s pretty shy, according to the gossip I�
��ve heard.”

  “As you’ve so cleverly pointed out,” Chen replied, “he’s a Vulcan. We’re all shy.”

  “Even you?” Elfiki asked.

  “I’m the exception that proves the rule.” The friendship Chen shared with Lieutenant Commander Taurik was one she could not explain, having begun as it had under less-than-ideal circumstances as each confessed to the other underlying grief they both had been feeling due to the loss of family members during the Borg invasion. While they shared occasional meals or other social activities, Chen had never seen the relationship advancing to the next level, and she was fairly certain Taurik felt the same way. “Anyway, we’re just friends.”

  “Whatever you say,” Elfiki said, offering another impish smile. Clapping her hands together, she pointed to the chronometer on Chen’s desk. “Okay, forget that. We’re wasting time. You up for racquetball or not?”

  Frowning, Chen asked, “Does it have to be tonight?”

  “It does if you don’t want to run naked through the officers’ mess,” Elfiki countered.

  “And I don’t.” Returning the empty water glass to the replicator, Chen gave in to the inevitable. “Okay, fine. Let me get my stuff.” She was turning to head for her closet when her door chime sounded. “Come in,” she called over her shoulder.

  The doors parted to reveal a lone figure standing at the threshold. His hands clasped behind his back, Lieutenant Commander Taurik regarded Chen with his usual stoic expression. “Good evening, Lieutenant.” His eyes caught sight of Elfiki, still sitting on the bed, and he added, “I’m sorry. I hope I’m not intruding.”

  “Oh, not at all, sir,” Elfiki said, rising to her feet. Though Elfiki’s expression remained passive, Chen heard the inflection in her words and shot a death glare in her direction.

  “Is there something I can do for you, Commander?” Chen asked, immediately regretting her choice of words and silently hoping that Elfiki would not react to any possible double entendres lurking within her question.

  Taurik, in the finest Vulcan fashion, appeared unfazed by any of the silent communication passing between the two women. “This isn’t an official visit, Lieutenant.” He paused, his eyes shifting for the briefest of moments to Elfiki before returning to Chen. “I was wondering if you had any plans for the evening. However, I see that is the case.”

  “Well,” Chen said, glancing to Elfiki, “we were—”

  “I was just leaving, sir,” Elfiki said, cutting her off. “I’ve got an experiment running up in my lab, and I need to get back to it, if you’ll excuse me.” As she made her way toward the door, she turned to look at Chen. “Remember what I said about that first move.”

  I’m going to kill you, Chen thought, schooling her features to reveal nothing. Elfiki masked her grin before turning back to face Taurik, who stepped aside in order for her to leave the room.

  “Good evening, Commander,” she said as she passed him.

  Taurik nodded. “Good evening, Lieutenant.” Waiting until she had gone, he turned his attention back to Chen. “Well, I suppose that my original question remains valid. I have just ended my duty shift and have not yet eaten today. If you have nothing scheduled for this evening, I was wondering if you might like to have dinner with me.”

  In all the time she had known him, Taurik had never once come to her quarters for such a purpose. It was a welcome gesture, so far as Chen was concerned. “I haven’t eaten yet, either, so that sounds like a fine idea.”

  Nodding, Taurik said, “Excellent.” Stepping aside once more as she approached the doorway, he added, “Perhaps we can discuss this first move Lieutenant Elfiki mentioned.”

  That was almost enough to make Chen trip over her own feet. “What?” she blurted, and then just as quickly covered that with, “I’m sorry. I meant . . . that is . . . excuse me?”

  Taurik tilted his head and his right eyebrow arched as he regarded her. “I assumed that you and Lieutenant Elfiki were discussing chess. As you know, it’s a favored recreational activity of mine, but I don’t recall you ever mentioning an interest in the game. If I’m in error, then I would welcome a discussion on the topic, and perhaps even a game after we finish our meal, if you have no conflicting appointments.”

  I could get used to this, Chen mused. “I’ve been known to play a game or two. You’re on.”

  As they made their way down the corridor to the nearest turbolift, Chen could almost hear Dina Elfiki snickering

  in triumph.

  10

  The doors to the Enterprise’s main crew lounge parted, releasing the festive atmosphere of the Happy Bottom Riding Club into the corridor as Dr. Hegol Den approached. He smiled as he entered the room, pleased to see most of the club’s tables and bar stools occupied by off-duty personnel as well as a few civilians. Still more people congregated in groups of varying sizes, carrying on all manner of conversations. With no small amount of amusement, Hegol wondered if the notable absence of any delegates or science specialists making the trip from Earth might well be contributing to the overall positive vibe enveloping the lounge.

  Now, now, he reminded himself. No need to be that way.

  Through the years he had spent as a counselor, Hegol had come to understand that one of the fastest ways to gauge the morale of a starship’s crew was to observe them when they were off duty. Taking that one step farther, he had cultivated the habit of visiting recreational areas such as the Riding Club, ostensibly for the purposes of unwinding in the company of his shipmates while enjoying a drink or two. When doing so, he made a point to downplay his role as ship’s counselor, often couching his true purpose by accepting an offer to join a group at the bar or to play poker, chess, or some other game that might be under way at one of the tables.

  Making his way deeper into the lounge, the doctor scanned the faces of its patrons, looking for one in particular, and it took only a moment to find the person he sought. She sat alone at one of the lounge’s smaller tables in the room’s far corner, her attention focused on a padd she held in her left hand while her right rested around a glass sitting on the table. Like most of the lounge’s other occupants, the young Andorian officer was still in uniform, even though Hegol knew that her duty shift had ended nearly three hours earlier. A plate with what appeared to be the remnants of a forgotten meal rested near her left arm. As he drew closer, he noted that the image displayed on her padd was that of a blue-white planet, with no accompanying text.

  “Ensign?” he asked as he drew close enough for her to hear him.

  Looking up from the padd, Ensign Ereshtarri sh’Anbi regarded him for a moment before recognizing that she had just been addressed by a superior officer. Her expression changed to one of surprise and uncertainty, and she moved to rise from her seat.

  “Lieutenant,” the young Andorian began.

  Hegol gestured for her to remain seated. “We’re off duty, Ensign,” he said, offering his best disarming smile. “I was just coming off shift, myself, and thought I’d stop in for a drink.” He paused to glance around the room as though taking in the crowd and the notable lack of empty seats before saying, “Would it be all right if I joined you?”

  “Certainly,” sh’Anbi replied, indicating the seat across from her. Hegol settled into the proffered chair, nodding toward the lounge’s bartender, Jordan, as he did so. As sh’Anbi deactivated her padd and set it aside, he noted that she appeared to be struggling to suppress uncomfortable or perhaps even unwelcome thoughts. He expected as much, given that he had spent the better part of the past two days talking with the other sixteen Andorian members of the Enterprise crew. Each of them had expressed some form of misgiving or apprehension about returning to the world of their birth, but so far Ensign sh’Anbi had declined his offers to meet with him in his office. Hegol suspected what might be at the heart of the young officer’s reluctance to talk with him, but he wanted to hear it from her. More importantly, he felt sh’Anbi needed to hear it herself.

  Movement from the corner of his eye caug
ht his attention, and Hegol turned to see Jordan stepping up to their table, carrying a single squat glass half-filled with a green beverage. The bartender placed the glass on the table in front of Hegol.

  “I managed to nab a case just before we left Earth,” Jordan said, smiling in conspiratorial fashion. “My normal supplier didn’t have any, but I was able to find some through my network of emergency providers. Consider yourself lucky.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice. “Only you and the captain even know it’s here, so keep that classified.”

  Hoisting the glass and offering it up in salute to the bartender, Hegol said, “A secret I’ll take to my grave. I’m in your debt, good sir.” He took the first drink, savoring the beverage’s rich, potent flavor.

  “What is that?” sh’Anbi asked as Jordan turned and walked off to see to patrons at another table.

  “Aldebaran whiskey,” Hegol replied. “I acquired a taste for it years ago, and since then nothing’s come close. Maybe it’s because it’s not made with synthehol.” He had never learned to like the artificial alcohol substitute, likely the result of many years spent drinking the real thing while still a young man living on Bajor. By the time he joined Starfleet and was introduced to a beverage made with synthehol standing in for actual whiskey, his palate was beyond convincing.

  “So,” he said after taking a second drink and setting the glass back down on the table, “what brings you here?”

  Sh’Anbi indicated the plate to her left. “Dinner. I didn’t feel like eating in my quarters or the mess hall.” Shrugging, she added, “I guess I just wanted a change of scenery.”

  “Fair enough,” Hegol said. After a moment spent spinning his glass in slow, clockwise motions across the tabletop, he said, “Ensign, if you don’t mind my saying so, you look to be a young lady with a lot on her mind.”

  Looking up from her own drink, sh’Anbi regarded him with suspicion. “Doctor, with all due respect, is this supposed to be some kind of counseling session?”