STO:ToAS--The Truth in the Illusion

Tales of Alyosha Strannik
"The Truth in the Illusion"


Personal Log, Encrypted.  Captain Alexei Ivanovich Strannik, commanding officer of the USS Chin'toka.

Oh, my dear Lord, where do I begin?

For the five others recovering from the Devidian attack, the most critical certainty for any NCO or officer in Starfleet has been irrevocably compromised: their captain is not who they believed he was.  Or more accurately, their picture of him is suddenly--shockingly--complete.  I never presented anything to the world about who I really am: my mind, my heart, my spirit, that which is Alyosha Strannik...that wasn't true.  The trouble is that for many, understandably, an omission, a misdirection, especially one as serious as this, is just as good as a lie.

I know how I would feel if I found out that Admiral Quinn or Admiral ch'Harrel were Founders in disguise, as opposed to out in the open like Odo.  I would be angry.  Suspicious.  Scared.  Perhaps I would feel betrayed.  I served against the Dominion; I lost friends and colleagues to them.  Just as my crew has served against the Devidians...and lost one of their own--Petty Officer Ximbra, one of the few Xindi to serve in Starfleet.

I feel as though I've somehow managed to compress my entire mass into a space mere cubic inches in volume, when I consider the fact that Commander th'Valek has already written the letter to Ximbra's family.  True...my incapacity for the past week required that someone else take that dreaded duty, but that should have been mine to complete, however terrible the burden.

But what could I have said?

I'm sorry I couldn't save your son.  I'm sorry I didn't fight hard enough or give enough of what is in me to bring him back.  I'm sorry your son's final memory was of his captain assuming the form of the enemy that took his life.

If I ever see Franklin Drake again--that smug bastard--if I ever see him in person...I know what he'll fear I might do, and I'm sure he'll take all sorts of paranoid, arcane technological precautions to prevent it that those of us in the light can only guess at.  But that's not what I'd like to do to him, because that would mean lowering myself to his heartless level.  No...I think I'll shove his nose straight into his brain the human way, because that's me too.  For giving us a holocloak mimicking a centuries-dishonored House.  For choosing me, knowing the Devidians would recognize my nature and pursue us with extreme prejudice.  For every other life he's played his sadistic games with.

But that assumes I'll still be in Starfleet for there to be a next time.  Now is a fragile time aboard the Chin'toka.  Everything could ignite if I don't find a way to repair what I have broken.

I'm gaining strength now, and it's growing easier to hold my human form again.  Still...even wearing my familiar face, I dread what my approach, unannounced and unwelcomed, might mean for those five.  So I called Commander th'Valek--Thraz--to my side, and I asked him to go and speak to them first on my behalf.  To see how they are feeling, and if they would be willing to speak with me.  I can't order this.  I can't force it.

I just pray that I have a chance.



PO Velas Metryn and PO Selk


They didn't want to be alone with me.

Or more precisely--Selk, the Ferengi holodeck technician, didn't want to be alone with me, and PO Velas, his Bajoran colleague from Photonic Studies, was there to keep him company.

I had shapeshifted a patient's outfit, though I still wore my commbadge, hoping to set the tone not of a captain ordering his NCO's, but of a man who simply wanted--needed--to speak with them as people  Still...Selk trembled, just barely restraining himself from standing, arching his back, and hissing in the catlike Ferengi fear display.  Until quite recently in their evolutionary history, relatively speaking, the Ferengi had been far from the top of the food chain, unlike the much 'higher-ranking' human and Devidian species.

That's what I was to Selk.  The ultimate apex predator.

I pulled up a chair, dragging it until it sat flush to the opposite wall.  The Ferengi fear response might seem extreme, even cartoonish to other species, but especially now of all times it was crucial to respect the reality of it.  So I kept my distance--though truthfully this room wouldn't be big enough in the hypothetical event that I tried to drain him--hoping that I might soothe at least some small, subconscious part of him.

When I spoke, I kept my voice low.  "I thank you for agreeing to have me here today.  I recognize that what happened last week was..."  I struggled for an appropriate word.  "Traumatic."

It took a tremendous effort for me not to wince.  My mannerisms might not be natural Devidian instinct, and were often completely unmatched to the anatomy of my true form, but they were a language I employed almost constantly, and by now they came almost as fluently as the way I formed my voice and gave anyone watching the impression that I shaped the words the same way they did.  

And in this case, I'd very nearly revealed how chagrined I was at my detached, clinical word choice.  I met Velas' and Selk's eyes in turn.  "I'm here because I would like you to have the opportunity to speak freely.  Nothing you say will leave this room or impact you in any way unless at your own request.  Please...say whatever is on your  mind."

Velas' eyes darted over to Selk, and she offered him an encouraging nod in my direction.

"S-sir..." Selk stammered out, "what I saw in there..."  His eyes locked upon my face, hollow, searching.  "It's horrible, knowing you could do that.  I mean--I felt it--I'm not sure how...I know you were trying to help.  But frinx...it's even worse than looking at the Caitians, with those big old claws.  I felt what the other Devidians did to me, too.  The cold indifference, and the greed...not the sensible kind that keeps an economy flowing, but the kind that destroys it...it wasn't even like what slavers do.  I was like a tube grub boiling on the stove!  And I just--I think about what happened, and I--I could be lunch!" he finally burst out.  Velas put a supportive hand on his arm.

I bowed my head for a moment, interlacing my fingers, both in shame and in prayer.  Once I looked up again I asked, "Would it help you to know how I 'eat'?"

Selk said nothing--but as the seconds stretched by, he neither said 'no' nor posed an alternative question, so I forged on.  "I can't eat the way you or Velas do.  And I am indeed restricted to a certain energy type.  But when I was found on Earth, the scientists who found me designed a machine capable of generating artificial neural energy in a form I can process."  I doubted he wanted the image of exactly how I managed that, so I left the description at that.  "There are several of these devices aboard the Chin'toka in addition to the one in my quarters.  Several layers of redundancy."

There I got a knowing nod out of Selk: the holodeck technician had plenty of those to deal with in his line of work.

"So I have a wholly artificial 'diet.'  I would also add," I continued with a disdainful curl of the lip, "that contrary to the disgusting frenzy you saw in the mess hall...I am actually capable of self-control.  To drain a person--I can't, because to me, personhood is something to be respected.  Not something to be ignored for convenience."  I didn't tell him that I could turn my neuroelectric sense on him and scrutinize his nervous system activity.  But I wasn't one of those mythic beasts consumed by an insatiable lust for its prey.

I hope that Selk might recognize that in me.  More than just the creature and thing I'd so sharply rebuked Lieutenant Rubio for speaking of in the underbelly of Drozana Station.

The Ferengi nodded.  I got the distinct impression he still wasn't exactly reassured that I didn't keep the crew aboard as the MRE's.  I drew in a slow, steadying breath that was more than just an action to animate my human guise--it ran down to my Devidian physiology too.  "I would not hold it against you I f you felt under the circumstances that your well-being would be best assured in another posting."

The Ferengi expelled a sharp hiss.  "I cannot break a contract!"  I could hear the agony in his voice.  He wanted to flee--but something kept him bound here anyway.

"Your enlistment contract is with Starfleet," I gently reminded him.  "I am not a signatory to it."

"No--not that contract!"  Selk shook his head furiously.  "I'm indebted!" he howled as if shouting an obscenity.  And perhaps 'unwanted financial obligation' was an obscenity in his native language.  "You saved my life.  And that--"  Selk straightened up.  "--means I owe you."

I could barely muster up the voice with which to reply.  "I was raised in human beliefs and traditions.  And in my faith, there is no binding contract between people for a thing like this."  At that, I saw Velas sit up and take notice.  "Because it's right--because that's what love does...that is why we do things like this.  Not the romantic kind of love," I clarified in case the vague English term had translated poorly.  "Spiritual--sacrificial love, which gives for its own sake.  I see no obligation.  And if you must frame it in transactional terms...you allowed me to speak with you today.  You showed me a lot of respect by doing that.  I can't ask anything more."

"Still...I have to stay."  Poor Selk...he tried so hard to put on a brave face.

"Take time to consider it.  If you feel you have moral obligations...I understand.  Just please know that none of them are imposed by me, and you are free to change your mind at any time."

"Am I dismissed?"

"You're free to go whenever you're ready."  It was abundantly clear the holodeck technician just needed to get out of here and calm down somewhere where he could think, instead of trapped in a small room with a sleeping Siberian tiger.  "If you need to, you can speak to myself or Commander th'Valek at any time."

The Ferengi barely got another word out before he was out the door.

I shifted uncomfortably as PO Velas became the sole focus of my attention.  "Do you need anything?" I asked.  "Would you prefer Dr. Sei be here with you?"

"No, no."  The Bajoran shook her head.  "You know, I was this close to completely unloading on you."  Her eyes went wide, for a second almost as big as Selk's.  "Sir," she appended.

"You're all right," I said, managing a wan smile.  "I did say to speak freely."

"I used to have all sorts of problems with Selk, before he learned to behave..."  Velas caught herself before she could say something like, in civilized society.  "According to Starfleet sexual harassment regs.  I wouldn't have believed it back then, but I was pretty mad at you a few minutes ago, Captain, when I saw just how you terrified him."

I offered no comment, simply nodded for her to continue.

"And a lot of what happened was terrifying, especially when they had me paralyzed in midair like that, just fading away.  But what you said just now, about your faith...it really put into context a lot of the other things that happened.

"I felt like I couldn't trust anything I knew about you anymore.  But I understand now what I felt when you...brought us back, I guess.  You were praying for us, weren't you?"

I nodded: I'd begged God to intercede, pleaded with every saint I could think of to join their supplications to mine, that the sum of the energies within me might be enough to save the lives of those who hadn't deserved the predations of the other Devidians.  "You don't have to answer this," I said, "but could you hear it?"

"No, sir."  Inwardly I sighed with relief.  "But I know what I felt now.  I know what it feels like to be prayed for.  And to know that something like that about you is true...that goes a long way."  Her brow furrowed almost as deeply as the ridges on her nose.  "Bajor hasn't always been kind to its war orphans.  There are...Cardassians among them, raised with the Prophets like everyone else, but we haven't let them forget they're not like everyone else."  

I couldn't help a nod at that.  The Devidian leader had done his best to dredge up those memories that spoke to the most isolating portions of my upbringing--which had begun in a laboratory--the most poignant reminders that I was not of the same nature or even fully a part of the same temporal phase as everyone else.  "You're kind of a war orphan, aren't you?" she asked.

"I guess...though there's a lot about myself--and them--that I just don't know."

"Well, Captain..."  Velas leaned forward.  "It may be tough sometimes, but I'll do my best.  I don't want to do to you what we do to the half-castes."  She blushed.  "I mean the hybrids, or the Cardassians raised on Bajor."

"Thank you."  I smiled.  "That says a lot about you."  And so did the fact that unlike Lieutenant Rubio, she had caught herself--shown regret for the casual discrimination of her world.  "If you need anything, though, the same offer I made to Selk stands.  Just let me or Commander th'Valek know."

The photonic sciences technician stood.  "I think I'll be all right."  She angled her head towards the door.  "Do you mind..."  I gave her leave.

Then a wave of dread sparked in me from node to node.  This next meeting--early indications from Thraz were that this one would present a challenge.


Crewman Valttari Karjalainen

His eyes burned like the terrible blue center of a flame.  The young Finnish security guard might have been distant kin--at least culturally, given the proximity of Karelia to Petersburg, but no neighborly concern moved his features now.

"Do you realize what my duty was?"  He paused, shutting his mouth.  No regulation form of address seemed to suffice for him now.  "It was--and is--my duty to subdue threats to this ship.  If I'd had the strength, I would've had to take you into custody and sort it out there in the brig!"

And then you likely would have died, I thought sadly.  But according to a security officer's training, he was right.  At least he'd still held to the doctrine of proportional force.  At least he hadn't said he would've simply shot me dead.

I offered him a small, solemn nod.  "I respect the position you were in.  And I realize that in a way, I've let you down.  For that I apologize."

"How could you lie like that?"  He stared at me as if trying to scan through my human appearance to the Devidian that I really was.  "Letting us all think--"  He broke off with an indignant curl of the lip.

"That I'm human.  I understand.  But..."  I couldn't help it.  The emotion crept into my voice.  "I don't know any other life.  Or even any other way to communicate than to do this."  I tried my best to untense my muscles.  "If you're uncomfortable," I offered, "you can speak to Commander th'Valek."

"He's in on it too!" Karjalainen exploded.  "He didn't even bat an eye--well, you know what I mean--when you transformed.  And for him to still call you what he did--Alyosha--"  There went all of my efforts to quit tensing up: one did not use the diminutive form of someone's name in Russian society without permission.  Especially not with such a great difference in age and seniority as this.  And as someone hailing from an area so close to Russia, I had no doubt Karjalainen knew it.  

"And--and--"  A new realization dawned on Karjalainen's face.  "That's why we didn't have alarms going off for two weeks straight!  For there to be Devidians on board, feeding on people--"  His eyes glared a hideous accusation, one that cut down to the very core of my being, that very same shameful memory I had exposed before the Devidian eidolon in hopes of stirring some remnant of a conscience.  But now the force of that same weapon slammed into my chest point blank.  "You and th'Valek and everyone else who is in on your little secret endangered us all!"

I wanted to fire back, that it was Drake's fault for not allowing us to take precautions before remotely extracting us from the 23rd century, and for sending us on the mission in the first place, even after learning what we'd found aboard the Axum.  But who was it that hadn't fought back, had accepted the orders?  

I gritted my illusory teeth nonetheless.  I knew my Aenar XO's mind, both figuratively and as a telepath, and the malice Karjalainen assigned to my friend...my brother-- "Commander th'Valek has known me since before anyone had ever seen another member of my species, or even had a name for what I am.  He is an honorable man.  Don't accuse him because of my failings!"

My breath came faster now.  I was tensed as if for combat now and my telekinetic cortex was fully in gear to enhance my strength to human norms and even beyond.  It was all I could do not to catapult straight into the ceiling as I stood.

I broke eye contact, though my underlying physiology meant I could still sense his quickening energies even with the loss of normal visual recognition.  I forced myself to count to ten, first in Russian, then in English.  Karjalainen stood stiff, his hand twitching as his neural activity intensified--the instinct, I suspected, to reach for a phaser that wasn't there.  Dear Lord, I knew even then it was wrong, but to hear Thraz' honor so impugned--it just--

"If it is your wish--"  I forced myself to return to business, stripping my human form of nearly all emotional display.  "Admiral ch'Harrel and I can arrange another posting for you.  Not a punitive one...but somewhere you'll have the same chances that you have here.  Trust has been broken.  I recognize that, and my part in it.  And I do not wish to imprison you in such an environment."

"I suppose the fleet admiral is aware of what you are, too."

"Fleet Admiral ch'Harrel is aware of my Devidian status," I replied in a temporary--very temporary impression of a Kolinahr master.  "Yes.  However...he has the ability to ensure a transfer to a comparable position within the fleet.  Somewhere where you will not have to face another situation like this."  I omitted the fact that Admiral ch'Harrel would still require Karjalainen to maintain secrecy about my species, and the entire incident in general.  But at least the fleet admiral wasn't a direct party to the betrayal, as the Finnish security guard saw it.

Karjalainen was already dismissing himself as he announced, "I await arrangements to be made."

He didn't say 'sir.'  One does not say such things to a creature, after all.

Once the door had swished shut behind him, I collapsed into the chair, my hands pressed to the sides of my head in an overwhelming admission of failure.


Medtech Chidibere Anene

An hour had passed since my disastrous meeting with Karjalainen.  I had almost given up on the idea of speaking with the other two--and simply hailing Admiral ch'Harrel to resign my commission--when the comm panel at the door chimed.  I stood.  "Come in!"

Medtech Anene couldn't have been more than nineteen--even younger than Karjalainen, and the same age I'd been when I graduated the Academy, but like many things, that part of my service record had been redacted to reflect an age more in line with human development.  The way the Nigerian medtech's entire face lit up when she caught sight of me obliterated my morose line of thought.  I couldn't help but reciprocate as she rushed forward, seeming--reluctantly--to just yank herself back from wrapping me up in a hug.  "Captain, I'm so glad to see you're all right...I've been so worried about you!"

"I'm doing much better," I said, "and I should be back on duty as soon as Dr. Sei clears me."

"That's wonderful!"  Anene beamed.  "After what you did for me...well, for all of us...I would've hated to think of you dying.  You don't always get to know what kind of captain you have.  Some of my friends on other ships aren't so lucky.  But I know.  I mean...that empathic whatever-it-was hit me pretty hard when you tried to reverse what the Devidians did.  Um...the other Devidians.  Sorry, sir."  She shrugged.  "I don't really know the right way to put it."

I smiled.  "It's all right.  I know what you mean.  It's still not public knowledge, though, and it won't be anytime soon.  Some people aren't...or wouldn't be...as accepting as you if they knew."

The medtech's features clouded over.  "I'll bet."  Had she spoken with Karjalainen at some point?  I decided not to ask.  "Can I ask you a question?  You don't have to answer if it bothers you."

"Hm...what would you like to know?"

"Is there anyone besides Dr. Sei who knows how to treat you if something happens?"

I shook my head.  "Commander th'Valek knows some basic first aid, but that's it."

"Um...I realize this might be personal, but that seems like it could be dangerous for you.  Do you think I could study with Dr. Sei?  I mean, I already know about you, and I'm planning on getting a nursing degree someday..."

Anene's concern and generosity...they absolutely humbled me.  I had no need to attempt a telepathic scan of her to recognize its intensity.

"Dr. Sei will have to review your qualifications," I reminded her, "but that's definitely something the three of us can sit down and discuss, if you're absolutely certain it's not something that would be uncomfortable for you.  I realize my natural form is..."  Terrifying.  "Unsettling for most."

"I'll be fine," Anene responded, adamant.  "A patient is a patient.  And I know who you are."  The words seemed to slip out unbidden, and the medtech glanced down as if mortified by them--and the way in which they might be misinterpreted.  It wasn't that hard for me to see down to her true meaning, though--especially since I had no physical responses to humans or humanoids to cloud my perceptions.

"Regardless of how Dr. Sei's assessment goes," I said, tactfully ignoring her comment, "I hope you'll work with her and me to make sure your duties allow for your education."

"Thanks."  She started to stand, but sat down again, fidgeting anxiously.  "Can I please ask just one more question?"

I smiled, baffled.  What could this be?  "Go ahead."

"I don't mean this badly, but I really want to know.  Professional curiosity."  She sat silently for another second--still debating her question?  Then she took a deep breath and said it.  "Sir...I have got to know: how do you talk?"

That hadn't quite been what I was expecting--but it also wasn't hard to see why most humans, to look at a Devidian, would wonder exactly that.  In my natural form I lacked nearly all semblance of the typical humanoid vocal apparatus: neither lips, tongue, teeth, nor even a movable jaw or vocal cords.  But having heard the commander of the Devidian hunting party speak in clear English as he made his threats, Anene had to be wondering how he...and I...managed it.

"I'm not a medical expert," I said, "so please try to bear with me if I say anything that doesn't make sense.  Anyway...as I'm sure you've noticed, I can't articulate the sounds the same way you do.  Even in human form, I don't rely on the same mechanisms as a human to speak, even though I give the appearance of it.  Instead of vocal cords, I have an organ recessed in...well, I can't exactly call it my 'sinus cavity' since I don't have a nose, but that's the best way to describe it.  That organ works more like the transducer in a computer than anything.  I can create a complete waveform within a certain frequency range, however I want.

"That's why I don't talk like Admiral Chekov when I speak English."  I rolled my illusory eyes.  True, the man had the easy smile of Yuri Gagarin, and an affable personality positively made for public relations. But that accent--and the speech impediment that so many people mistook for a standard part of a Russian accent, thanks to him--was amusing, yes, but sometimes deeply aggravating to those of us from Russia, given the way Chekov had fashioned himself into a walking Russian stereotype and Net-meme factory.

"Technically, I could sing a song with all its instruments--a full arrangement--if I wanted, though I don't, even alone, because I can't create a stereo effect.  It doesn't sound right to me.  One voice...one instrument...is enough."

"Wow.  That makes a lot of sense, though.  I'd guess you could hit some pretty extreme frequencies if you wanted to.  Or be a world-class singer."

I nodded.  "I can hit a very high register, yes."  Even with the medtech's tolerance, I still wasn't sure it was the time yet to qualify that I didn't just mean falsetto-high, but that my natural vocalizations could and did enter Nazgul territory.  "And I don't want to do it for a living--I don't want the attention--but I do love to sing.  Very much so...enough that sometimes I wonder if it's more than just something about me as an individual."  In fact--I had even questioned if the deep need I felt to express myself through song sometimes was more than just the 'muse' lighting upon me as it would upon a human with the gift of music: perhaps 'normal' Devidian speech operated on similar principles to Earth's cetaceans...maybe to them song was language.

Medtech Anene smiled.  "That certainly explains everything I've heard about how well you sing.  And one more thing..."  Her eyes twinkled.  One more thing? I thought to myself.  Wasn't it 'one more' just a minute ago?  "There's a rumor you have an X-Men 'shrine' in your quarters.  This whole thing...your being Devidian...it kind of explains the Nightcrawler poster, doesn't it?"

I squelched my instinctive 'laugh' before it could escape, and let out a deep and very human laugh instead.  Here she faced a revelation with such power to shock and even disgust, and this was what caught her curiosity?  "You're right," I confirmed.  "I definitely get Nightcrawler."

"Well, don't worry," the Nigerian medtech assured me, standing and glancing at the wall chrono--she had to be coming on duty soon.  "Your secret's safe with me."

"You don't know how much that means to me."

At least to a few who know the truth, I thought, I am still me.


Technician N'Vek

My final meeting was with a Romulan exchange NCO from Mol'Rihan, second only to the Command Master Chief in my ship's enlisted chain of command.  I couldn't afford a mishandling of this meeting: losing...or failing to rebuild goodwill with Chief N'Vek, as the case might be, would not only send shockwaves through the enlisted ranks, but it might even have repercussions on Starfleet's dealings with the Mol'Rihannsu.

I got the odd feeling, though, as the Romulan chief of maintenance entered the room, that our situations might be a bit reversed in his book.  At 112 years of age, N'Vek's hair was just beginning to show flecks of grey that corresponded to the weathering of his face, an effect that combined with his erect posture to grant him a venerable air.  Though the Romulan lifespan, and my illusion of human appearance meant he appeared not that much older than me, the truth was that N'Vek was twice my age...at least, my age reckoned since being brought out of stasis.

The expression N'Vek regarded me with was...almost grandfatherly, though still colored by traditional Romulan reserve.  "Jolan tru, Captain Strannik."

I inclined my head.  "Jolan tru, Chief.  I thank you for having me here under less than ideal circumstances."  I struggled to remember the words I'd planned to address the delicate diplomatic matters involved.  "It is my concern that the recent incident with the Devidians, and my involvement in it, may have placed you in a difficult position relative to our respective governments."  Starfleet, of course, wished to ensure the Romulan's silence.  On the other hand, D'Tan's military chief, Obisek, doubtlessly expected a full report from N'Vek on all that transpired, including some things the Federation would prefer kept quiet.

"That it has," N'Vek dispassionately reflected.  "That said...a Romulan must concern himself not just about his government.  There is also one's personal mnhei'sahe--and that comes first."  The Romulans had had the Tal Shiar, yes, and the various other apparatchiki involved in maintaining their totalitarian government, but the Empire fell just short of deity status in Romulan eyes.  Not like the Cardassians, where the state--their Kardassianskaya Rodina, in essence--was at least until recently the be-all-end-all of Cardassian existence.

"I'm sure Obisek would expect to know about a Devidian in Starfleet ranks," N'Vek said.  But here N'Vek allowed himself a small, crafty grin.  "That said...when the Devidian in question was prepared to lay down his life for mine, mnhei'sahe demands I not bring him harm.  We don't have much of our ancestors' telepathic gift left, but your readiness to die was quite clear.  So Obisek will have to do without that little detail in his report."

"I appreciate that," I replied, matching the solemnity of his tone.  "Of course, I make the same offer to you that I have to the others.  I do not consider you--according to my belief--to have any personal obligations to me.  If you feel serving in close quarters with me is problematic in any way, I don't expect you to put yourself in a position you find detrimental to your well-being."

Another sly smile, and an ironic lift of the upswept eyebrow.  "Captain, is it not 'logical' that if I had anything to be concerned about, there would have been incidents long before now?"

The dark thought floated up to the surface.  A fact I have often had to point out throughout my career.

"Definitely.  Even this recent boarding party--they tried to hide it, but they couldn't manage it for long."

"You have judged me by my actions and mnhei'sahe, and I have appreciated your fairness.  It would offend the Elements themselves not to return the favor.  That's true whether I am dealing with a being of Earth and Water as I had thought, or one of Fire and Air such as yourself."

"I can't say I've ever heard such a poetic description, but I'm honored."  I just held back from quipping that it beat being called something like 'Demon of Air and Darkness,' though, suspecting he assigned a quasi-religious sanctity to the Elements.

"All that is to say I have no qualms about continuing to serve aboard the Chin'toka.  That is," he clarified, "as long as you intend to continue your service, sir."

I didn't answer at first--for I had indeed considered resignation many times since the attack.  I had feared irreparable damage to my crew by my presence.  And indeed, in Karjalainen's case it was true.  But he wasn't everyone.  Nor were my own failings everything.

I straightened and met the Romulan's gaze square on.

"I intend to, Chief."


Two days later

My first day back on duty since the Devidian attack had thankfully been rather uneventful aside from the arrival of a runabout to transfer Crewman Karjalainen to the USS Le-Matya, a Vesta-class starship in our fleet.  Most of my senior staff, however, remained none the wiser to what had really transpired that day in the mess hall, instead having been told that I'd been specially targeted by the Devidians once they identified me as the Chin'toka's commander.  Not a lie--not precisely.  But it would have to do.

Now that my shift had ended, I stood at the control archway of one of the escort's two small holodecks and called up my list of programs, most of them recordings or re-creations of concerts and studio sessions from a wide scattering of genres and planets of origin.

This time, though, my fingers froze over the controls.  Those were new!  In fact, as I scrolled through my library, it looked as though my selection of personal holoprograms had expanded by nearly a third.  Some of the new entries were from the Federation, or were old enough to remain uncontested by even those powers that still enforced archaic copyright laws, but others originated from places like Cardassia, Lissepia, even Mol'Rihan--places where those laws, and the inflated real-latinum prices that accompanied them, were very much still in effect.

I smiled.  I had a distinct feeling where it had all come from, though to judge by the stealthy insertion of the new programs, I figured it would be best to say nothing.

One thing I knew: I would have much to sing praises for tonight.