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"Chocophoria"
Rating: PG-13 Hoshi and Liz get to the bottom of what’s going on...it ain’t what it seems. Italian: "Scusi, Elizabetta" (Excuse me/Pardon me, Elizabeth) and "Forza, ragazzo!" (Come on, man!) Please read and review! Thanks! Eight “I’m telling you, Anna, that all it needs is a good swift kick,” Mike Rostov snarled. His face was scarlet from trying to keep his temper in check. “I bet if you tried to check all those circuits, you won’t find anything at all.” Lieutenant Anna Hess scowled at him and waved her spanner in his face. “So that’s your answer for everything, huh? Just damage it even more. Man, I can’t believe Commander Tucker lets you in here, especially after you slipped on his spanner.” Rostov winced as he shifted his weight in his chair. If he’d been standing upright, he’d be nose to nose with her. Of all the most stubborn, pig-headed, uptight people in the world...she makes Lieutenant Commander Reed seem like a willow in the wind. Why the hell does she have to look so beautiful when she’s mad? He tapped a button on his PADD. “All right, let’s try this again. Check out this analysis. Now, it all seems to be concentrated here, in these sets of—“ He straightened up to look at her, but unfortunately, Anna was bent over him to look at the PADD...and the top of his head impacted her nose. “ARRRRGH!” she screamed and the entire Engineering shift came running. “You clumsy son-of-a--“ She smacked his shoulder, which jerked his right arm, which held the PADD and said PADD fell right on her foot. She rubbed her nose, then went for her foot, then aimed a well-placed kick at his uninjured leg. Rostov managed to move at the last moment, so she kicked the panel next to him instead. The lights in the engine room quit flickering and the warp core settled into a smooth hum, instead of sounding as if it was coughing up hairballs and fishbones. Hess’s face dissolved into a stupefied expression, while Rostov only shrugged good-naturedly as he took another scan of the circuits in question. He turned the screen around so she could see the results: normal. “Told you so,” Rostov said. It took six men to restrain Hess from tearing him from limb to limb, and Doctor Phlox arrived just in time to prevent any more damage, mechanical, bodily or otherwise. Hoshi stared at the Tactical Screen as T’Pol showed her, Archer, Malcolm and Trip the results of her scan. Hoshi’s eyes widened as she saw a fuzzy gray ring envelope Enterprise, then release it just as quickly. There seemed to be a regular timing to them and no matter how Travis adjusted the ship’s course, the rings seemed to “follow” them. “Are these things...the reason why everything aboard the ship’s malfunctioning?” “I suspect so. According to Trip’s reports,” and here, T’Pol brought up the chief engineer’s reports on a side screen, “the malfunctions seem tied to our passage through the ‘rings’.” “Are they a dire threat to the ship?” came Malcolm’s quiet question over Hoshi’s shoulder. He seemed over his embarrassment and sounded like his usual Armory Officer persona. Hoshi realized T’Pol had referred to Commander Tucker as “Trip”. Malcolm’s expression told her that he’d noticed that too. Trip only had a slight smile on his face, one that reminded Hoshi of the cat who had eaten the canary. Is there something going on between Trip and T’Pol? What’s going on here? Suddenly, Malcolm frowned at something on T’Pol’s screen. He interrupted, “Look at this. Sub-Commander, can you enlarge section...um..two-thirty-four A?” “Certainly, Lieutenant.” T’Pol tapped buttons and the view zoomed on the area Malcolm had indicated. As the Enterprise went through the “rings”, even Hoshi could see small spheres detach themselves from the “rings” and reattach themselves to the hull, like a second skin. Those spheres vibrated in time to the electromagnetic spikes. Trip scowled at the sight. “What the hell’s that? Reminds of soap bubbles or bath pearls.” Malcolm smirked and asked him, “How would you know what bath pearls look like?” Trip gave him a dirty look and didn’t dignify the question with an answer. “Unknown,” T’Pol answered Trip as she pointedly ignored Malcolm’s jibe. “It seems that more of these spheres are accumulating on the ship’s hull. They are comprised of pure energy—“ “Pure energy?” Trip asked in an awed voice. “They’re probably the cause of the blorps runnin’ wild through the ship. We’re gonna have to find a way to get rid of them.” Hoshi inclined her head; she thought she heard something on the speakers. “Some kind of...pattern in the background. Not space noise; it’s too organized, like a code of some sort.” The men stared at her, but T’Pol nodded. “Yes, I can hear the noise as well. It is too regular to be a random occurrence. Perhaps it is a method of communication.” “Who’s tryin’ to talk to us?” Trip asked. “And what’re they tryin’ to say?” Archer nodded as he made his decision. “Trip, work with Malcolm and T’Pol on finding a defense against these things. Hoshi, see about those translations. We need to get to the bottom of this as soon as possible. Dismissed.” She nodded back, grateful to finally feel as if she was doing something useful. Ensign Bernhard Mueller’s “visit” to her quarters had been spread all over the ship. Poor Bernhard. The ensign had stammered his apologies, but the Armory doors were stuck and the whole ship was going to hell and could his boss please come, and he hoped he didn’t need to use a phase pistol or explosives to pry them apart from each other, but he really didn’t want to use any more force than he needed to, because Reed would absolutely kill him if Hoshi was hurt, or at least, make him wish he was dead, so... “Bernhard. You’re rambling,” Hoshi had said, not unkindly. Poor Malcolm had blushed crimson, but he thanked Bernhard for getting him. How was she going to live this down in front of the crew, especially Malcolm’s Armory people? Bernhard was the soul of discretion, but...ah well. At least he’d walked in on a relaxed conversation instead of something more...embarrassing. Hoshi made a mental reminder to make it up to Bernhard sometime. She hurried to her communications station and pressed the receiver in her ear. She began to listen to the frequencies, moving up and down the bands, shifting frequencies with practiced ease. She closed her eyes to block out the distractions on the Bridge; even Malcolm couldn’t distract her now. What are you? Who are you? She thought the questions silently. What are you doing? And how are you connected to the mokka and what’s happening on Enterprise? I think the two are connected, but I can’t imagine how. They’re two completely different events. How can a Dnuyan dessert cause EM spikes all over the ship? It just doesn’t connect... She heard a slight whisper over her earpiece. Her fingers danced across her board as she tried to isolate it. There...right there...no, wait a minute...there was too much interference, too much space noise surrounding it...the channel was nearly clear...almost clear... Then the response came, the plaintive voice of a child, ringing with curiosity and playfulness. Will you be my friend? Can you help me understand? Crewman Liz Cutler sighed as another wave of patients came through Sickbay. Not only Crewman Rostov and Lieutenant Hess (who’d made up as quickly as they’d been fighting), but some of Reed’s Armory crew and a few people from the Galley. A familiar face came through the doors and Liz gasped. “Chef?” She helped the man to a biobed. “What’s wrong?” “Not...feeling well,” Chef muttered. “Scusi, Elisabetta...” Phlox appeared at Chef’s other side. “No need to apologize, Chef. Come, we’ll take care of you.” They got him onto a biobed and Phlox ran his scanner. “His temperature is pushing thirty-eight degrees Celsius and he’s becoming extremely dehydrated. Start an IV drip, Elizabeth, while I give him a broad-spectrum antibiotic and see if I can find out what’s causing this.” “Yes, Doctor.” As she readied the intravenous drip, her mind was in turmoil. What had affected Chef so suddenly and so badly? Phlox murmured to himself as he took blood samples from Chef and put them in the analyzer. Judging from the doctor’s tone, it didn’t look good. “It appears to be some sort of viral infection,” Phlox mused aloud, “but I’ve never seen anything of this nature before...” Oh no, Liz cried silently. Come on, Chef. Fight it. Forza, ragazzo! Oh God, please, don’t let him die! Then a tiny voice echoed within her head. Is there anything I can do to help? What can I do? “What—?” Liz asked aloud. Then her surroundings dissolved. She’d been in the “sweet spot” of the ship several times, ever since Travis had shown it to her. Sometimes, she’d come here to get away from the chaos of the ship. It was blessedly quiet, a refuge from the rest of the crew. Even Malcolm appreciated the advantages of this area; they’d made use of its zero-G properties. This clean, white space reminded Hoshi of the sweet spot. Warm and peaceful, like she was being wrapped inside a downy quilt. She floated free, her arms spread out like an eagle, and she laughed in delight as she did an acrobatic flip. “Hoshi? You here?” “Liz?” She glanced over her shoulder to see Liz Cutler drifting some distance behind her. Liz had an look of uncertainty on her face, as if she wasn’t sure how to move correctly. “You just need a little push, Liz. Too much and you’ll careen past me and into the walls.” “Okay,” Liz replied. Have I told you just how much I hate zero-G?” She took a deep breath and gave herself a tentative push in Hoshi’s direction. She nearly sailed past Hoshi, but Hoshi reached out and pulled her arm. The movement caused both women to drift until they reached one of the walls. “Where are we?” Hoshi asked. “I was on the Bridge—“ “I was in Sickbay. Chef just came in ‘cause he was sick. Some viral infection, Phlox said—“ “Chef’s sick?” Hoshi’s eyes widened. Liz nodded mutely, her eyes filling with tears. Hoshi gripped her arm in comfort, but not hard enough to send them flying again. “I’m so sorry.” Liz sniffled and said, “I wish I could do something for him—“ What can I do to help your friend? He makes the most beautiful creations, does he not? They looked at each other in silent question. Then Hoshi turned her attention below them and Liz followed her stunned gaze. There, floating upside down with its legs crossed, was a strange figure. Its bulb-shaped head glowed with a faint purplish color, with large eyes framed by long lashes. The slim, rounded body tapered to a point, from which sprouted a sheaf of golden tentacles. Those eyes opened to reveal crystal-clear blue orbs. I only wanted to see how you dealt with each other. How you played and what you ate and what you did, in this bird of the stars. The alien sighed wistfully. I meant no harm to any of you, but I was curious and I was lonely. I wanted to experience what you felt, but it is all so confusing. Please help me understand. “You only wanted to get to know us?” Liz asked, her voice hushed. “Why didn’t you just ask us?” I was afraid, was the simple answer. I saw how my presence seemed to change things, make your kind behave...unnaturally and makes your Flying Bird behave...unnaturally. I could not stop it. I felt the anger and the love, the frustration and the happiness. I was scared of it all. One in particular frightened me. “Who frightened you?” Hoshi inquired, her voice gentle. The one who is your mate. He has a Dark Soul, but you bring Light into it. I did not want to hurt him or make him angry; I thought he would be angry if I tried to talk to you, so I did not. “Malcolm’s reasonable, as long as you are straightforward with him. His job is to protect everyone on this ship and if he believes you are a threat, he’ll act accordingly.” I know this, but I did not know how to make him understand. And the substance that your sick friend builds with...my presence seems to change its properties. It makes it what it shouldn’t be. “The mokka, Hoshi. She’s talking about the mokka,” Liz said excitedly. “Phlox said that something was interfering with its natural absorption in the body. For some reason, her biochemistry affects that. She must be able to manipulate biofunctions just by her presence.” “Her?” Hoshi asked. “Is that correct? What is your name?” You cannot pronounce my name in your language. It is a word that describes a glowing light. “Like a star?” Hoshi asked, her mouth turning up in a smile. “My name translates as ‘star’.” Yes, something like that. The voice sounded amused, then just as quickly, turned anxious. You are not angry at me? The being reminded Hoshi and Liz of a frightened child, steeling herself to be punished. “No, Star,” Liz said. “We’re not angry, but we need to help Chef and find a way to contact you without affecting the ship and the crew. Can you help us find a way?” There was a pause, then the alien blinked her eyes once, slowly and carefully. I think I can help, if we work together. Yes, I think it is doable, but it will mean you will have to shine your Light into the Dark Soul and convince him I mean no harm. The two women gazed at each other and Hoshi’s smiled widened. “I think we can do that.” |
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