“The tube grubs must be for Ambassador Gandres—he has a fondness for all things Ferengi, or so I’m told.”
“I’m impressed, Colonel. You managed to delegate party planning duty pretty quick.”
“Shakaar insisted on having the job done correctly. As station commander, it’s my obligation to find the individual who can best meet the minister’s expectations.”
“Whatever you say, Colonel,” Ro said, grinning as she turned toward the door.
“Oh—and if Ambassador Lang says anything you think I might find useful—”
Ro paused. From appearances, Kira’s evening would consist of replicated raktajinoand a cold floor. I bet Kira would enjoy a night out. I should…no. I wouldn’t want her to feel like she had to accept my invitation, and it might be awkward to turn me down. Maybe another time.She finally said, “Goes without saying, Colonel.”
Kira had removed another box from the stack before Ro made it to the door. Persistent as she was, Ro couldn’t imagine starting and restarting the tedious process of searching for answers in those boxes—especially since she was confident there were none to be found.
The difference between a believer and an unbeliever,Ro thought.
When Charivretha entered Thirishar’s quarters, Anichent raised his hand to request that she refrain from interrupting his conversation. She recognized the Vulcan on the viewscreen as a well-known scientist. It pleased her to see that Anichent was working on his post-doctoral research instead of frittering away his time, moping as Thriss seemed bent on doing. How capably Anichent navigated his technically dense conversation with his colleague! All their talk of rips in space-time fabric fascinated her, but she doubted she could explain it if called on. Science had never been her forte.
During her student days, Charivretha had taken only the minimum requirements in physics, chemistry and biology, choosing instead to fill her schedule with extra courses in political science and government. Still, she found the physical sciences exciting in a mysterious way. In relaxed, intimate moments, one of her bondmates, a warp propulsion theorist, whispered to her the subtle poetry of swirling galaxies and interstellar fusion—a unique ritual between lovers to be sure. Her devotion to him was not unlike Shar’s love for Anichent. In this one way, she and her cheiwere similar.
Anichent deactivated the subspace link and turned to her. “Thank you for waiting, Zhadi.I meant no disrespect.”
Thinking about how pleased Shar would be to see his bondmate immersed in the work he loved, Charivretha affectionately squeezed Anichent’s shoulders. “You amaze me, Thavanichent. You should apply for that fellowship at the Daystrom Institute.”
“As you say.” He flushed, and looked away, focusing on gathering up the bioneural circuit sheets and isolinear chips scattered over his work surfaces. The Vulcan he’d been conversing with was engineering a device to be retrofitted on starship arrays; Anichent had decided to see if he could build a miniature model of the device in order to verify his own findings.
Charivretha could imagine Anichent, one day, deciding to join Starfleet engineering as a way to facilitate spending more time with Shar. They could request joint assignments. Both of them would be less lonely. Charivretha believed having a bondmate by his side could only help Shar, stabilize him, reinforce his obligations to the Andorian Whole.
Feeling conspicuous for not helping, Charivretha dropped to the floor, working to assist Anichent in gathering his things. “I’ve come with a plan for the evening. I think it would be good for all of you. Don’t give me that look, Anichent. Even you need to rest from your work—to recreate.”
“Dizhei must have talked to you,” he said sagely. He leaned over the desk and chairs, searching for any components he might have missed.
And that’s not the half of it…Unwilling to revisit the humiliating discussion she’d had with Lieutenant Ro, Charivretha avoided following up on Anichent’s words. He could draw his own conclusion. “How many days has it been since you three did something fun? Dizhei has been correcting her students’ projects, you’ve been tinkering with hyperspanners and laser drills and Thriss has been preparing her residency applications—”
“Not many of them,” Anichent muttered.
Those two, quarreling again? Do they ever stop? Poor Dizhei!Taking sides might disturb the precarious bondgroup dynamic, so she resolved to avoid any topic that might result in a conversation about Thriss. “You all deserve to be rewarded!” Charivretha said, reassembling a toolkit. “There was quite a bidding war over these holosuite hours. An attaché I work with was our most eager competitor, but in the end, I succeeded. I’m not about to let such a valuable opportunity go to waste.”
Anichent placed the last of his items into a nearby case. “I suppose we should ask Dizhei and Thriss if they feel up to going out.”
“Come with me, would you?” Charivretha asked. Anichent nodded stiffly and arm in arm they went to find the others.
No one will notice,Thriss thought, her hand hovering over the control panel. The temptation to increase the volume overpowered her fear of being caught; she made the adjustment. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Dizhei. When her bondmate continued working without interruption, Thriss relaxed.
From the time they were little, Shar’s voice had always hypnotized her. He wasn’t prone to long speeches or flowery language but the tone in his voice made her shiver deliciously. She recalled “borrowing” school supplies from his desk just so he would have to ask her where she’d put them. Once, during their exercise period, she’d casually thrown a foot out in front of him during a foot race, sending him sprawling to the floor. Of course she’d volunteered to escort him to the nurse. That was the first time she’d touched him: dabbing a lumpy bruise on his forehead with a cool cloth. Oh, how annoyed he’d been with her! She smiled a little sadly at the memory. Now he’s thousands of light years away without me to take care of him.She rubbed her eyes, hoping Dizhei didn’t see the beginnings of tears.
Notwithstanding Dizhei’s unfailing kindness, Thriss knew she became impatient with the weepiness. The high rounded back of her chair shielded her somewhat from Dizhei, though, so she hugged her legs tight against her body, rested her chin on her knees and settled in to watch the recording.
Several days ago, she’d been browsing through Shar’s database when she discovered his journal—what Starfleet people called their personal logs. At first, she watched them after Anichent and Dizhei were asleep, fearing their disapproval, selfishly wanting to hold something of Shar’s for herself. Both her bondmates fussed about propriety, about respecting personal boundaries. Thriss knew that delving, uninvited, into these recordings might be construed as a violation, but she couldn’t help herself. And it became harder and harder to wait until the middle of the night to spend time with Shar. So she decided to risk viewing them now, even though Dizhei, who listened with earpieces to her students’assignments, was in the room with her.
From what she could see, he appeared happy. This latest assignment to DS9 agreed with him. Seeing his contentment, however, always led her back to questioning why he couldn’t be content with her.Why not come back to Andor for the shelthrethand then she’d go wherever he wanted her to. They simply had to put their obligations behind them.
Voices in the background cued her that others had joined her and Dizhei. Why did Anichent have to come in now? I want to finish watching this day first, the day he received my gift.She saw Shar looking at the elaborate model of Andorian DNA, constructed with rounded, highly polished, multicolored crystals. It pleased her to see he kept it on the shelf closest to his bed.
“Thriss!”
Abruptly, she spun her chair around and before she could protest, found herself facing Charivretha.