CHAPTER TWENTYFOUR
The Chance was a Constellation Class Starship and though the entire crew was not made up of trainees, enough of them were that the regular crew members were a bit apprehensive. They weren’t concerned about mishaps. No, they were concerned about getting their work done in a timely manner, and baby sitting trainees didn’t usually mean efficient. Even the Captain was technically ‘in training,” from the crew’s perspective anyway, since she was only filling in for this training cruise due to the ship’s regular Captain being on emergency family-leave. With the exceptions of some darker rumors about the Captain, people seemed to like her on the whole, but Tammas, having never met her, decided to hold off on passing judgment. Everyone seemed to have at least one dark rumor, no doubt spread by malcontents and every rumor seemed to have sufficient entertainment value that they often stuck and continued to circulate. Rumors of such nature that if you dare try to deny them it would only reinforce and perpetuate the rumor. He didn’t entertain the rumors of this Captain because his experience was that everything, even if partly truthful, was either taken completely out of context, or so over exaggerated that it was meaningless dribble. It was exactly the same thing with legends. Legends were simply rumors and stories that have taken on a life of their own. Just take the rumors about me, he thought. How could any one compare me to Kirk just because I have had a few alien romances?
Tammas focused on his assignments. It would be entirely possible, he thought, that he could go his whole tour of duty on this ship and never even meet the Captain. This was such a short cruise, comparatively, that there was no chance, he gritted his teeth at the potential pun, that he could get into trouble. Due to his exploits in the Kobayashi test, however, people’s expectations of him had risen. He was scheduled to run Ops on the Bridge, and that was not what he wanted to do. He wanted to be in the communications department, quietly ferreting out signals from the back ground noise of space at large. He wanted to detect new life forms and explore strange new worlds from the comfort of his ergonomic chair. Let the probes fly, he’ll direct them from his rocking chair in his office.
He struck up a little blues with his harmonica, filling the quiet recesses of his station’s hidden alcove with music. He watched the information scroll across his console.
The interesting thing about detecting new species by means of radio transmission alone was that there was a very small window of opportunity. When one figured in the rate that technology advanced, along a normal curve, the window was less than a span of two hundred years. Once a civilization started using digital technology, like cable, and satellites that beamed signals directly to planet side receivers, radio transmissions were slowly phased out and a planet could virtually disappear from detection. Earth had been a very noisy planet, radio wise, for a very long time, with that bubble of radio noise expanding forever, but growing fainter with distance. And then, suddenly, it quits. Most civilized worlds had yet to hear an original Earth broadcast due to the time it takes for the signals to travel through space. When they finally do arrive, it would only be a hiccup worth of noise. If they’re paying very close attention, they might be able to focus their radio telescopes in Earth’s general direction, but all they would hear now would be silence, because not only was Earth completely digital, much of it’s communication energy was transmitted directly into subspace, requiring a totally different technology to detect it.
He loved the lay out of the communications department. Several rows of terminals, with maybe a half a dozen people monitoring things that didn’t need to be monitored thanks to the computers, but because humans are what they are, they wanted to be there. They wanted their digital displays of information, back up copies, and files to examine. And, he was very much human in that respect. He liked being at his little station with all the monitors and controls available to him. His bank of computers dealt with incoming and outgoing signals, where as the station directly behind him dealt with all the intra-ship communications, which was more than just people chatting and exchanging emails. Every tool, from a spanner wrench to a tricorder, had an isolinear tag that not only identified it, but expressed it’s location on the ship and its operational status. All these signals had to pass through somewhere and this place was it. The main computer was right below their station, and the back up computers were several decks up and back, but regardless of which of the dozen computers were talking, all communications passed though this station, an isolated and lonely part of the ship.
The communication center was rarely visited. Most people thought it to be just a dark whole, which was often too cold, due to the fact that the computers required extra cool, dry air to be continuously pumped in to keep them at their optimum performance temperature. Consequently, this was why Tammas had expected no one, other than his assigned team, would ever bother him. As team leader, he could send others up to the Bridge to run Ops, and he could sit his entire training cruise right here. Safe, comfortable, and quiet. Quiet, minus the hum of the computers, hum of the fans, hum the life support system, isolinear chip set harmonics, and occasional blast of rhythms from his harmonica.
“Hello, Garcia?”
Tammas spun his chair around to see who had addressed him, not lowering his harmonica. He sucked in air through the harmonica in surprise and nearly went to attention.
“At ease, it’s a casual call,” she said. “Sort of.”
Tammas gave Captain Janeway a curious look. “Sort of?”
“It hasn’t gone un-noticed that you’re avoiding your Bridge assignment,” Janeway said. “I wanted to encourage you to join us on the Bridge at your next scheduled appointment.”
“I thought that, as head of the Communications Department, I can assign anyone to work Ops,” Tammas said.
“You can,” Janeway agreed. “Except when the Captain has personally requested that you be at Ops. Is there a problem that I should know about?”
“No, Sir,” Tammas said, wanting to correct himself and say “Mam.” Sir was just as appropriate these days, though, he reminded himself, it was because humanity was no longer hung up on all the politically correct gender titles. Well, for the most part.
“Good,” Janeway said, looking around. “It seems a bit lonely down here.”
“Hardly that,” Tammas said.
“Then why the blues?” Janeway asked, pointing to the harmonica.
His whole demeanor seemed to brighten as he thought about his work. “The whole Universe is calling to me, and I have a front row seat. The blues is a separate thing.”
Janeway smiled. “You haven’t written any holo-novels lately. Academy keeping you busy?” Janeway asked.
Tammas nodded. He didn’t know what to say to her. He hadn’t felt like writing at all, ever since his interview with BBC, but offering that might lead to an impromptu counseling session, and he wasn’t about to open up to this stranger. She stood before him and seemed greater than life, with almost the power and aura of Katherine Hepburn in presence, but something all her own shining through. If he had to guess, he would have figured her to be a classic literature fan and so he couldn’t imagine which of his holo-novels, or lesser books of his, she had read.
“I’ve heard you have some terrific story lines for games. Perhaps you would join me and some friends at the holodeck when you’re off duty today?” Janeway asked.
Tammas nodded. “Do you have something special in mind?”
“Perhaps something Tolken related?” Janeway asked. “Tell you what. Meet us for refreshments at the lounge, and we’ll bandy around some ideas. Nineteen hundred hours.”
“Okay,” he said. He watched her leave, and turned back to his station. So much for just riding out the cruise under everyone’s radar. An invitation by the Captain would be difficult to side step.
Janeway turned to go, hesitated, and then turned back. “Just one other question, if you don’t mind.”
“Sure,” Tammas said, steeling himself for something bad.
“Just between you and me,” Janeway said. “How did you beat the Kobayashi Maru test?”
Tammas smiled, relieved that it wasn’t a more difficult question. “My understanding is that though you yourself didn’t accomplish the mission objectives, you got consecutively higher scores with each attempt, and you had some of the highest scores right up there next to Riker.”
“And that answers my question how?” Janeway asked.
“I’m afraid that the information you seek has been deemed classified by Starfleet command,” Tammas said. Could she know that he cheated and she was just testing whether or not he could keep a secret? He wanted to scream! See how lies and secrets can mess with a persons mind. Once the game starts, there is no way out.
“You’d tell me, but then you’d have to kill me?” Janeway asked.
“Essentially,” Tammas confirmed.
“I don’t suppose I could convince you that your secret is safe with me,” Janeway said. “And that I have Star Fleet’s full confidence.”
“Tell you what,” Tammas said. “If you and I are ever stranded in a remote part of the galaxy together, I’ll tell you my secret over a cup of coffee.”
“Assuming we have coffee?” Janeway asked.
“Oh, god, may there always be coffee,” Tammas said.
“My sentiments exactly,” Janeway said. “See you later.”
The lounge was a small room over looking a lap pool a half-deck below. Along the starboard side of the pool were treadmills and stationary bikes, while the port side of the pool had two hot tubs. Tammas wandered passed the bikes, returning a smile to one of the lady bikers who smiled at him as he passed. She was human and it was her eyes that first drew his attention, and quirky smile. He liked quirky. He was tempted to stop and talk, but settled for a double take as he passed her. He headed up one of the spiral stair cases leading to the lounge, and half way up the spiral stair case he recognized a voice. The voice belonged to Jaxa Sito, and she was talking about how Nova Squadron and Garcia had successfully completed the Kobayashi Maru Test. He shook his head and continued on up the stairs and came out of the spiral directly in her line of sight. She beamed a smile at him and raised her drink in salute. Her girl friends turned to see him, no doubt appraising him, but he only had eyes for the girl sitting next to Jaxa. Jaxa waved him over to join them and he complied, his eyes not leaving the girl to her right. He knew her, but was at a lost to find her name, which bothered him to no end. The fact that he knew her but couldn’t recall her name was so perplexing he nearly walked right into the table just from being mesmerized by her. He blinked. She was beautiful, but his attraction to her was not romantically inclined, which was also perplexing, because he hadn’t met a female yet that a romantic thought didn’t push into his head. She appeared human and he was less attracted to humans in general, so he thought that might have been a factor, but though she looked human, he knew she wasn’t. She was... What was she?
“Garcia,” Jaxa said, making room for him, patting the space next to her. “Would you like to join us?”
“You don’t remember me, do you?” the girl said, for she had been staring at him with equal intensity. Contempt and anger were visible on her face.
In contrast to her negative energy, Tam’s eyes brightened at the sound of her voice. “Jovet?”
“You two know each other?” Jaxa asked.
“She’s my sister,” Tammas said.
“No, I’m not,” Jovet corrected, vehemently.
“How are you?” he asked, ignoring all the warning signs that told him to raise his shields and take evasive actions.
“I was fine until you barged in,” she said, standing. “It’s not enough that you have to upstage me in every area of interest that we share, but you have to join Star Fleet and outshine everyone to the point that there isn’t anywhere I can go that I don’t have to hear about you and your exploits? Can’t you do anything badly?”
Tammas was a bit taken back, and he felt like a kid again, trying to figure out how to play the game. He wanted so desperately to win her affection and approval that he would say and do anything. “So, you’re not happy to see me?”
Jovet got up from the table. “It’s bad enough that this Universe isn’t big enough to keep us separated, but you have to be assigned to my ship. You invaded my family, my dreams, my life, my music, and now my workspace. What else do you want from me?”
“I’m sorry,” Tammas said. I should be able to fix this, he thought. There is a psychological explanation for all this energy. I should be able to fix this, he thought again. Why can’t I solve this?
“I just wish the others could see how truly sorry you are,” Jovet said. “Just once, I would like to get through a conversation without your name coming up and me not sounding like the bad guy because I know what a monster you are.”
Jovet stormed down the spiral staircase and was gone. The remaining group and another group nearby that had ease-dropped seemed a bit uncomfortable. Like most people, they wanted to help fix things, and as Star Fleet Officers, they really wanted to fix things. Unfortunately, as with most tech oriented people, fixing people was the lesser of their skills, and sometimes, it was just best to let people muddle through their own issues rather than have an outside force step in and try to influence things. It was the Prime Directive of personal affairs approach to life. The far group quickly returned to their drinks and conversations.
“I’m sorry,” Jaxa said, mouthing the words instead of speaking them.
Tammas smiled at Jaxa and her friends. “And, for my next trick, I think I’ll make myself disappear,” he said, jokingly. At least it drew some smiles so that he could make a graceful exit.
Tammas went over to the bar and leaned against it, putting his right foot up on a step that followed the contours of the bar. As he waited for the bar tender, he glanced back over at Jaxa, gave her a half hearted smile as their eyes met again, and then he took inventory of the people in the lounge area. There was small stage area with several musical instruments in cradles. Three people were performing. Old Earth stuff, and the strangest part was they were wearing sun glasses, Hawaiian style shirts, and hats with parrots on them. There was a girl on the drums, a girl on the piano, and a guy playing the guitar, and the words he was singing were beyond crude. The chorus was old slang for getting inebriated and making love. Garcia accessed the file library with his neural implant, found the author and began browsing through the artist’s material.
Tammas had a powerful sense he was being stared at, and true enough, sitting at the bar right next to him was a female doing just that. He smiled at her, turned and ordered a Klingon coffee. He turned back to see she was still staring at him.
The musician finished their set, the guy drank some of his margarita, and then they started right into the next set. Appropriately enough, the song was about the drink margarita. Tammas made note of the song, for it was rather catchy.
“You would be Cadet Tammas Parkin Arblaster-Garcia,” she said.
“Yes,” Tam agreed. “I would be.”
“Have you ever thought of shortening your name?” she asked.
Tammas chuckled as he retrieved his drink, and would have continued studying the people in the lounge further, but the female next to him continued to stare. He returned the stare with equal intensity, admiring the lay of her feathers, and wondering why the feathers seemed to grow exactly where hair would grow had she been human. There had to be a scientific explanation for so much symmetry in the Universe. So many humanoids with only minor anatomical differences couldn’t just be chance. The fact that there were at least two planets that had so closely resembled Earth, one physically, and the other historically, that it would almost suggest a deity playing games, or at least, an extremely intelligent race had been seeding the galaxy. He dismissed the idea so he could concentrate on her eyes. They seemed kind, but penetrating, like she could see right through him.
“I’m Cadet Navok,” she said, not offering her hand, but offering a slight nod. “We have not met, but I have heard a great deal about you.”
“All good, I hope,” Tammas said. She was cute, he thought, trying to gauge how much taller than him she would be when she finally stood up from her stool.
“You like drama,” she said. “It follows you. But it’s more than the general chaos that comes from a duality paradigm so classic in species with gender division.”
Tammas blinked. She in no way appeared to be Vulcan, but she sounded Vulcan. He wasn’t sure if he should consider her statement from a scientific perspective or a personal perspective. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t recognize what species you are.”
“Is it relevant?” she asked.
“It might be, since you’re using a gender division analysis of my species in order to construct a model to understand and interact with me,” Tammas said. “As if that were relevant to how I personally operate.”
“I’m Helenian,” she said. “You are a human Vulcan hybrid. It’s a very rare combination, if I understand correctly, due to the amount of medical attention such an offspring requires just to stay viable in the womb.”
Tammas was so stuck on her being Helenian that he didn’t register the part about difficulties inherent in interspecies genetic exchange. Had he picked up on that, he might have gone off on a completely different tangent like how remarkably similar everyone is, and how much ‘coincidence’ seemed insufficient as an explanation. No, what he got hooked on was the fact that he was attracted to someone who was Asexual. Navok wasn’t a “her.” For that matter, she wasn’t even a he. There really wasn’t even a gender neutral word that could fully describe what she was, though their species tolerated the use of female pronouns from the human camp. “Shields up, red alert,” he thought, trying to suppress all of his previous interest in the person. “Why am I always attracted to the aliens,” he wondered. It must be Kirk’s fault!
“Your sudden withdraw of interest from our dialogue suggests that you have some preconceived prejudice about Asexual Beings, or have been biased by a rumor about me personally,” Navok said.
Tammas raised an eyebrow, trying harder to suppress any further leaking of emotions. Had he been that transparent?
“Perhaps you are curious about the reproduction process,” she said. “Your species just can’t imagine a Universe without a Duality Paradigm, a male female, light dark, or what is it, Yin Yang? Is it your Vulcan heritage which prevents you from asking, or a human modesty that prevails?”
“I’ve never been accused of being modest,” Tammas assured her, deciding brutal honesty was the only way out of this one. “And, you are quite perceptive. I had been entertaining the idea of you and I hooking up, right up till you mentioned you were…”
“Not Interested? I never said that. Just because my species is genderless, doesn’t mean we don’t have relationships,” Navok said.
“I backed off because I wasn’t sure about the proper protocols,” Tammas tried, but decided that sounded a bit lame even to him. “I’m sorry. My thoughts were unprofessional and inappropriate, and I shouldn’t have shared as much…”
“I appreciate that you did,” Navok said. “As this is the appropriate setting, provided you are serious about flirting. Most human males, though, run when they learn what I am.”
“I didn’t run,” Tammas offered in his defense.
“No,” Navok agreed. “As I said, you like drama. Perhaps too much so.”
“Just out of curiosity, how do you reproduce?” Tammas asked, still trying to figure out what she meant about “drama.”
“When the conditions are right, I answer the Call. A potential child, a spirit looking for entrance into the world, will come, declare its life’s mission, and I will decide whether or not I will be the Gateway for this vehicle of spirit,” Navok said.
“And if you decide not to?” Navok asked.
“Then the spirit goes elsewhere, looking for the right family dynamics to support its life-quest-learning goals,” Navok said.
“You abort?” Tammas asked.
“That is a human term,” Navok said, not offended. “If I, or any one of my species, answered the Call every time we had it, there would be no room left in the Universe to breathe. Imagine if every one of your sperm were viable, would you be the Gateway for the trillions you would produce over a life time? If you had the potential to father a child every week for the rest of your life, would you?”
“You receive the Call every week?” Tammas asked.
“I receive a Call ever day,” Navok said, standing. “And if I chose, I could lay two eggs a day. How responsible would that be? And when you consider that humans now have the technology to make every single egg a woman can produce in her reproductive life span viable, you don’t consider it abortion not to collect all the eggs and put them in incubators, do you?”
Tammas didn’t have an argument for her. The disparity between species could often be as polarized as the perspectives between male and female. If changing just one DNA combination had the potential of changing the human experience, just look at the diversity created when you had a completely different genetic code. It was amazing to him that there was any cross species communication at all, and he was genuinely intrigued by her, sociologically speaking. A race without gender would certainly have a unique view on the world and for the famed sociologist Berger, perspective all boiled down to place. From Tammas perspective, she was odd. Beautifully odd. From her perspective, well, he was going to have to visit with her longer to find out just what she saw.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Navok said. “I have Bridge duty.”
“Of course,” Tammas said. “Perhaps we can talk again.”
“No, too much drama. Too much chaos,” Navok said, and walked away. “I prefer peace.”
Tammas wanted to argue with Navok that he didn’t like chaos. He was a man of peace. Sure, he wasn’t a Depak, or a Guinan, but he was peaceful. He was sure of it.
The band finished another set. Something about a food and paradise. He walked over to the man sipping his margarita.
“May I sit in on a set?” he asked.
“Are you a parrot head?” the man asked.
“I think I could fake it if you will permit,” Tammas said, picking up the spare guitar. “I’m Tammas.”
“I’m Frank. That’s Lena on the drums, and Carol on the piano,” Frank said.
Tammas nodded to them. “I’d like to try the pencil thin mustache song. You know that one?”
“Sure,” he said. “Lead off, the vocal is yours.”
Tammas sang the song, reading the words scrolling across his mind’s eye via his implant, making mental notes of the movie star references. He was going to have to do some homework. He was familiar with Ricky Ricardo, but he had no idea who Boston Blackie or Sky’s niece Penny were. Carol and Lena sang appropriate back up. The song finished and Tammas returned the guitar to the cradle.
“Very nice,” Frank said. “You sure you don’t want to play on?”
“No. I’ve got an appointment,” Tammas said. “Maybe another time.”
“Sure. Make sure you get a hat,” Frank said.
Tammas went back to the bar and got another coffee. He was early, but he suspected the Captain would probably be early, so he had been extra early in order to make sure he was present.
“May I join you?” Jaxa asked, slipping up next to him before he could answer. “I am really sorry. I didn’t know she was your sister, or that the two of you were so adversarial.”
“We not adversarial,” Tammas argued.
“Okay,” Jaxa said, raising her hands in the classic “I surrender.” “I still like you, even if she doesn’t.”
“Thank you,” Tammas said. He wanted to be appreciated at the moment. He really should get in the habit of reading over the ship’s rosters to avoid future mishaps such as the one he had just had with his sister. He needed to make a list of people he would prefer not to work with. Jaxa waved her hand in front of Tam’s eyes and he refocused on her. Except for the ridges on her nose, she could have passed for human. He studied her closely, and decided he could fall in love with a Bajoran. Yes. She was very cute.
“You still with me?” Jaxa asked.
“Yes,” he assured her. “I’m sorry. I drift sometimes. Especially around music.”
“You know, I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time now,” Jaxa said, swiveling her chair back and forth. She felt like a teenager.
“Before the streaking incident, or after,” Tammas asked.
Jaxa broke into laughter, actually touching his arm to keep from falling off the bar stool. “Oh, that was a good one. And you were such a good sport about it. I would have been so embarrassed.”
“You can thank my visit to Betazed for my modesty,” Tammas said.
“Anyway, it just seems every time I’ve tried to chat with you, something happens, or your friends spirit you off,” Jaxa said.
“Well, we are on opposing teams, you know. I was going to chat with you that time in lab, but then that chili fiasco happened,” Tammas offered.
She raised her hands innocently. “I had nothing to do with that.”
“So, here you are,” Janeway said. “Right on schedule. This is Second Lt.Tuvok.”
Tammas greeted him in formal Vulcan way. Tuvok responded appropriately. “Your reputation precedes you,” Tuvok added.
“Yeah, you just missed by how much,” Tammas said.
Tuvok didn’t understand, but then, he rarely picked up on, or even cared about, the human’s propensity for humor. Jaxa got it and pinched his arm. Two other girls joined them. The closest stuck out her hand right away, apparently glad to meet Tammas. “Carol Jackson. I hope I’m not too late?”
“Not for you,” Janeway said. “And everyone here has met my First Officer, Lt. Commander Shelby, I trust? She’s a last minute recruit for the game.”
“Yes,” Jaxa said.
“No,” Tammas said, not offering his hand until she reached out to him in the normal Earth fashion. His first impulse was he didn’t like her, but he couldn’t trace the source of his feeling. She had a firm grip, challenging. He made sure he wasn’t the first to let go. It was a variation of the game not let go when you hand somebody an object, just to see what the other’s reaction would be. He had only met one person who had ever beat the ‘not let go” game, and it turned out that she taught kindergarten, so she knew how to play to win. Shelby played to win.
“I hear you’ll be joining us on the Bridge soon,” Shelby said.
“Yes, Sir,” Tammas said. They mutually let go of each other.
“So, have you a game picked out?” Janeway asked.
“Would you mind if Jaxa joins us?” Tammas asked, noticing Jaxa was about ready to slip away.
“Really?” Jaxa asked.
“That would be fine,” Janeway said. “The more the merrier, wouldn’t you say, Tuvok?”
Tuvok only looked at the Captain.
As Tammas set the game in play, and explained the object, he began to realize Tuvok was being coerced into playing. He had just assumed, as they made their way to the holodeck, that Tuvok had wanted to join, but indeed, it was only through Janeway’s insistence that he do so that had brought him this far. It wasn’t until they were in a battle scene, that Tuvok decided it was time to protest. He had notched an arrow and let it fly. It missed the target by three arm’s length.
“Freeze program,” Tuvok demanded. “This game is defective. There is no way I could have missed from this distance.”
“This is not about how Tuvok shoots. It’s about how the character that you are role playing shoots,” Tammas explained. “This is not a training game for real life. It’s fantasy. Every task we perform is based on the roll of a dice. As your character gains experience, your character’s performance will improve accordingly.”
“You are cheating,” Tuvok said.
“He has a point,” Shelby said. “I mean, I know you have competed in gymnastic, but that display of athletic ability while fighting was just unbelievable.”
“How did you jump over that giant?” Janeway asked.
“The character I’m playing is a monk, and he has superhuman strength and agility,” Tammas explained. “Using my neural implant, I am able to access the computer program and alter the gravity in the deck plating below me. Reducing the gravity gave me the height in my jump. To simulate the temporary flight, I used the tractor beam that the holodeck normally uses to move holoedck matter around the grid. So, though I didn’t have to do that, I wasn’t exactly cheating. I’m still in context with my character.”
“Come on, Tuvok. We h