“Our doctors believe Starsa should be returned to her homeworld for treatment,” Admiral Brand explained to Nev Reoh. “Her body is reacting abnormally for her species, and they believe it is due to the environment.”
“It will take several weeks for her to get home,” Reoh said, already thinking about how to accomplish whatever was necessary as fast as possible. “Will she be all right until then?”
“With treatments and environmental adjustments to her quarters, Starsa should arrive fine. But the doctors say it will be emotionally as well as physically difficult for her. They recommend that someone accompany her.” Admiral Brand smiled slightly. “Starsa asked if you could go with her.”
“Me?” Reoh asked, feeling very much the odd choice.
“She says you are one of her first friends here on Earth. You are also the one who alerted us to her problem. We could arrange to have your classes taken by the other professors, if you would agree to go.” Brand spread her hands on her desk. “It would take you at least six weeks, maybe longer.”
Reoh already knew it would take longer, because he would have to stay to make sure Starsa was recovering. “I’ll do it. When do we leave?”
* * *
Red alert klaxons sounded for the third time since they had neared Klingon territory and the supply lines passing through numerous inhabited sectors, including Bajor. Clearly, Klingon fingers were stretched toward Cardassia since the recent invasion.
As Reoh ran to Starsa’s rooms, he wondered what the alert was about this time. Last time it had been two jumpy Cardassian escort ships and an arms freighter passing through to refortify one of the border planets. The time before that, it had been a pleasure yacht that the Maquis had outfitted with a fairly hefty phaser capacity.
The U.S.S. Cochranewas only an Oberth‑class starship, one of the smallest Starfleet science vessels, but she had ably defended herself and given chase to the yacht. Yet other duties called, and their captain had been forced to transmit the Maquis ship’s last coordinates to Starfleet Headquarters.
The Oberthhad been ordered to transport dignitaries from the far reaches of the Federation back to Earth to discuss the Dominion and the new danger they posed to the Alpha Quadrant. Even before they left the Academy, Reoh had heard that Starfleet Command was concerned that shape‑shifters could have infiltrated the Federation High Command.
Then, hardly an hour ago, President Jaresh‑Inyo made an announcement about the bomb blast that had disrupted a major conference between the Romulan and Federation governments at Antwerp on Earth. It was the worst crime to occur on Earth in a century–twenty‑seven people were killed. President Jaresh‑Inyo had declared a planetwide day of mourning, but Reoh could read more than grief in the eyes of the Starfleet admirals, including Admiral Leyton, standing to one side of the president in his office.
Reoh was knocked off his feet as the Cochranewas hit by a phaser shock wave. His stomach clenched as body‑memories of the battle at Verdian III came back in a vivid rush. He could almost feel the disrupter blasts, over and over again. Then the panic of the saucer separation. And the crash, when he had screamed like he had never done before, certain he was going to die–
“There you are!” Starsa exclaimed, leaning out of her quarters, eyes wide with fright. “What’s happening? Who’s shooting at us?”
The deck jolted again. “That feels like a phaser hit. The shields are trying to absorb the shock.” Reoh pushed Starsa back inside her quarters, heading toward the couch. “Better sit down and hang on.”
“Will the shields hold?” she asked. “Who is it?”
Reoh was already activating the screen to see outside the ship. “It’s Klingon. No, there’s two of them.”
Starsa was gasping in shock. Reoh had never seen her so frightened before. She had always been the soul of courage, without a thought of failure or defeat.
The Cochranewas hit again, and they were thrown back against the couch as the valiant ship maneuvered.
Starsa clutched his arm. “Are we going to die?” she whispered.
“Eventually,” Reoh had to admit. “Maybe not right now.”
It might have been callous, but it did make Starsa stop and think instead of sending her into hysterics. Reoh knew part of her problem was the unstable hormone fluctuations, but her emotional reaction was very real.
She hunched down in the couch, wrapping her arms around her legs, her ruddy hair spreading against the back cushion. “I never thought about it before,” she admitted, her voice husky, as if everything inside of her was twisted tightly closed. “Everyone is going to die. I’m going to die. You are.” She flinched as the shields took another hit. “I haven’t seen my family in so long.”
Reoh took her hand, realizing how inevitable that fear was. “I lost most of my family early. Maybe that’s why I can’t ever forget about death. I think it’s why I failed as a Vedek. What is faith next to that? Nothing you can say or do can avert it.”
“So what do you do?” Starsa asked, hanging onto his hand for dear life.
“I try to do the same thing youalways did. Just go on. In spite of everything.” He squeezed her hand. “Only now, I hope you give us a break and don’t tempt fate so much.”
She blew out her breath, shaking her head at the very thought of some of the things she had done in the recent months. It was only when she leaned her head against his shoulder that he realized how close they had gotten in the past weeks. He had always had a special, protective feeling for Starsa. Yet how easy it was to reassure her, how naturally he put an arm around her shoulders.
He didn’t move until long after the jolting stopped and she fell asleep on his shoulder.
Starsa felt better the moment they beamed down to Hohonoran on Oppalassa. Treatments began at once, and she was required to stay in the medical center while her hormone levels were adjusted and her transition into maturity could proceed at a more steady pace.
After a few days, she hacked into the medical computers and accessed her file. It was remarkably easy after the challenge of Starfleet computers. She read that her doctors were surprised by the onset of her puberty, having believed she would be able to complete the course at the Academy and return to Oppalassa before her transition. Starsa didn’t care, even though she was young to mature for her kind. It seemed right to her–she’d been through a lot in the past four years. She should be an adult.
Starsa read everything in her file, then closed it back up like she’d never been there. She wasn’t even tempted to mess with the medical computer, but she had to laugh at her log‑skipping virus that had lasted for almost four years. Because of her illness, her practical joke hadn’t even been discussed at the Academy. She wondered if it would fade into the past or be dealt with when she returned. Perhaps they figured it was bad enough punishment to have to repeat this semester’s work during the summer.
She had hardly closed her tricorder when Reoh appeared. He smiled, then stepped over some animal trinkets on the floor. “Oops, almost stepped on your frog.”
“Everyone keeps bringing them to me,” she explained, gathering up the small animal androids that her people loved to give as gifts. Mostly she was getting Earth animals, and everyone seemed so pleased they could offer her a “remembrance of Starfleet.” She didn’t have the heart to tell anyone that frogs and mice didn’t exactly fill the hallways at the Academy. She held up a giant‑sized tick before tossing it to him. “Don’t ask what that one is.”
Nev Reoh seemed uncomfortable. “The Cochraneis returning through this system day after tomorrow. They called to let me know, in case I was ready to return. You’re doing fine now, so I thought–”