“So, what have you been doing during the past few days?” Charivretha asked. She looked from Dizhei to Anichent to Thriss, including all of them in her question, although again, Thriss did not look up from her dinner.
“Actually, we’ve begun touring the station,” Anichent said around bites of his meal. “This is a very interesting place.”
“Really?” Charivretha said. She did not care much for Deep Space 9 herself, finding it a sterile and unwelcoming environment. The unfriendly Cardassian architecture certainly contributed to that feeling, and the Bajoran climate bothered her even more. Here, in Thirishar’s quarters, the temperature and humidity had been elevated to sufficiently high levels, but in the public areas of the station the coldness and aridity made her constantly uncomfortable.
“We wanted to acquaint ourselves with Shar’s new life,” Dizhei explained.
“That’s a lovely sentiment,” Charivretha said. She admired the forgiveness Thirishar’s bondmates managed for him, despite his continually selfish behavior. She loved her chei,but he embarrassed her at times, even shamed her, by the self-centered way in which he had chosen to live his life.
With her thoughts, a seed of anger began to form deep within her. As she felt it grow, she very deliberately put her glass of ale down on the table. As an ambassador, she always searched for ways in which she could effectively hide and then restrain her emotions, and she found that concentrating on specific movements could serve that purpose.
“Today, we went to the operations center,” Anichent said. “We contacted Lieutenant Ro, and she got authorization for us from the station commander.”
“A young Bajoran man escorted us around while we were there,” Dizhei said. “He was kind enough to show us where Shar works. It was very exciting.”
“I’m glad that you’re enjoying your time here,” Charivretha said. Then, as casually as she could, she asked, “Did all three of you visit the operations center?”
Dizhei cast her eyes downward, immediately conveying an answer to Charivretha.
“No,” Anichent said, keeping his tone light. “It was just Dizhei and me.”
“I see,” Charivretha said. She reached forward and picked up her glass, again allowing the small physical action to cover and redirect her rising emotion. It concerned her that Thriss had not accompanied her bondmates on their tour, particularly considering the young woman’s dour mood this evening. Of course, Thriss’s emotions had always run at speed, and sometimes out of control—it remained a wonder to Charivretha that Thriss had managed to complete her studies and become a physician—and so perhaps today represented an isolated incident. “So where else have you been on the station?” she asked.
“Well, we’ve certainly spent plenty of time on the Promenade,” Anichent said, and then added, rather melodramatically, “shopping.” He raised his eyebrows and sent a sidelong glance at Dizhei.
“Oh, I haven’t been that bad,” Dizhei protested. The two began to bicker playfully, obviously a comfortable scene the pair had acted out on many other occasions. Charivretha liked these people, and she felt gratified that Thirishar had been so fortunate with the bondmates who had been selected for him. During the confrontation she had engineered before he had departed on his mission, Charivretha had wondered whether she had made a wise choice in bringing all three of them to the space station. She had initially considered sending only for Anichent, with whom Thirishar had formed his first romantic bond; ch’Thane knew that her cheifound stability and peace in that relationship, but she had also realized that any chance of convincing Thirishar to return to Andor would require something other than a promise of constancy. And in the end, it had been the emotionalism and volatility of Thriss that had finally compelled his agreement to come back home.
Anichent and Dizhei had moved past their lighthearted raillery about shopping and returned to the subject of where they had been on the station during the last few days. Anichent mentioned the mid-core science, engineering, and administrative facilities, the runabout bays, and the docking pylons. Charivretha took another drink of her ale—a gulp this time, and not just a sip—and set her glass back down. “Thriss,” she said, attempting to remain conversational, although her voice had been roughened by the ale. “How have you enjoyed these places?”
At last, Thriss looked up from her meal. “I’ve stayed here,” she said. “I wanted to stay close to Shar.”
“I can understand that,” Charivretha said carefully, “but really, you should occupy yourself until he returns.”
“I miss him,” Thriss said simply.
“I do too,” Dizhei said. “I just want Shar to come back from his mission and then come home with us. I want our shelthreth…”If there was more to her thought, she did not give voice to it.
“You know me,” Anichent said, shrugging. “I encouraged him to join Starfleet, because I knew that’s what he wanted.” He paused, and Charivretha thought he was deciding just how much he wanted to say about how he felt. “I just never thought he’d leave Andor so soon. Or stay away so long. I miss him too.”
“I know,” Charivretha said. She thought of her own bondmates, and how unthinkable—how unlivable—it would have been for any one of them to do to their group what Thirishar was now doing to his. “But at least he finally promised to come home,” she said, trying to focus on the positive. Both Anichent and Dizhei nodded and smiled, and Thriss returned her attention to her plate. Charivretha could see that none of Thirishar’s bondmates felt all that sure of his pledge. Either they doubted his word, or they doubted Thriss’s account of his giving it. Whichever the case was, Anichent and Dizhei at least seemed to be dealing well enough with their misgivings; Thriss evidently was not.
“I know Shar promised to come back to Andor with us,” Anichent admitted, “but I’m just not so sure that he actually will.”
“Of course he will,” Charivretha pronounced. “I won’t allow his Starfleet career to stand in the way.” She regretted the strength of her words at once; she thought that a lighter touch was required here.
Anichent put his fork down on his plate and folded his hands together, resting his elbows on the table. “Shar didn’t leave Andor to join Starfleet. He didn’t leave usfor Starfleet.” A strange quality in his tone made it seem as though he had discovered an unpleasant truth. “I know we talk that way, but Shar’s told us many times why he left.”
“What Thirishar may say and what may be true,” Charivretha said, peering across the table at Anichent, “are not necessarily the same.” No words and no reasons, she knew, could explain away the irresponsibility of what Shar had done.
“I know that,” Anichent said, meeting Charivretha’s gaze, almost challenging her. “But I’ve been wondering if he might be right about our people. Maybe the way of life we’ve chosen as a race won’t save us after all.”
“That’s absurd,” Charivretha said, no longer concerned about the force of her tone. “Since the reforms, the death rate has decreased significantly.”
“We’re not dying as fast as a people,” Anichent allowed, “but maybe…I don’t know…maybe some of us are dying a lot faster as individuals.”
“What do you mean?” Dizhei wanted to know.
“What he means doesn’t make any sense,” Charivretha said. “It’s simply doubletalk to allow Thirishar to obviate his responsibilities.” She felt angry not only at the negativity of the conversation, particularly in front of Thriss, but that anybody at all could try to justify her chei’s actions. She fought to keep her emotions in check.
“No, it’s not doubletalk,” Anichent said. “Shar wasn’t happy on Andor. He didn’t like not having choices about some important things in his life. To stay there would only have continued to hurt him.”