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STARFLEET: ORIGINS
STARFLEET: ORIGINS
==[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: To Court a Nightingale==
===by Brian V. Mansur===
SD 2262.048
MD 2.2110
Scene: Metron Sphere
The scouting parties began to drag in after only four hours, their Gorn members
on the verge of collapse. Within another two, many of the aliens were becoming
seriously debilitated. By twelfth hour since Corbett had found a cure for the
humans, most of the big lizards were checking themselves into the improvised
sick ward that Kiska had prepared.
At least the scouts had found a few new herbals for Corbett to try out. They
had even located a nearby stream to replenish their drained canteens.
While Corbett kept at his improvised lab work, Sean watched Kiska lovingly tend
to the ill. He marveled at how exceptionally kind she came across in her roll
as nurse. She was attentive and proactive regarding her patients' needs. She
brought damp linens to ease their fevers, water to rehydrate, and she never once
flinched at the unenviable task of wiping away excrement when the creatures
became too weak to make it to the latrine.
And she kept smiling around them. She did it even though she probably suspected
as he that they couldn't read human facial expressions yet.
It was in that darling smile that Sean noticed the first signs of strain. More
and more when she turned away from the Gorn, the smile slipped. Then as the
hours rolled on and more Gorn came in, worry lines began to distort her pretty
face. She tried to keep the lapses to when she thought no one was looking. But
it was plain to Sean how frustrated and afraid she was for her patients, knowing
she could only try to ease their discomfort while waiting for a breakthrough.
Eventually Sean, with little else to do, became a nurse's aide. He had proven
less adept at controlling his gag reflex around the malodorous greenies, so she
had tasked him with working the laundry and hydro duty. From time to time he
took the soiled alien garments to a washing spot. They dared not pollute the
stream, but a hollowed out pseudo-cactus allowed then to move water around in
quantity. After washing, he laid the clothes out on rocks to dry and went back
for more.
During a lull in the workflow, he motioned her over. At first he began to ask
how she was doing. Then he saw the dull fatigue in her ice blue eyes. "Let's
step over there for a minute," he said, gesturing to a boulder that would take
them out of sight from the others.
When he was satisfied that they had a measure of privacy, he told her, "Corbett
may be on to something with the blood sample you gave him." It wasn't quite a
fib. Stile had said very little about his progress lately. But he could see
Kiska needed something to lift her spirits. Suddenly hopeful, she point blank
asked to know what Stile had said exactly. Caught, Sean tried to equivocate.
"Well, he hasn't been cursing at Zade for several hours so that has to be a good
sign right?"
He could see Kiska wasn't fooled. "Sean, please I don't need protecting," she
said, no longer smiling.
Sean put up his hands and rushed, "No, I don't mean to be like that. It is just
that you've been at this all day and I figured you could do with a dose of
encouragement.
For several seconds she just stared into his earnest blue eyes. The look of
weariness intensified over her fair features. "I don't like not being able to
help my patients. Even if they do smell worse than week old dead cod."
Sean snapped his fingers. "So that was why the stench seemed familiar."
Wanly, Kiska shook her head over his dry attempt at humor. She looked as if all
she wanted was to sleep for about a week.
Sean put a hand on her shoulder. She regarded him, curiously, uncertain at how
she should react to his touch. With a proud smile, Sean told her, "What you are
doing here may be the most important thing you ever do in your career. A
Federation nurse caring for a group of helpless Gorn? That has to score some
points towards making thing better between them and us. And that could protect
more lives than we could ever dream of."
Imperceptibly, Kiska nodded
in response. Sean continued, "So if no one else ever says it, I will." He put
his other hand on her arm and softly whispered, "Thank you."
Quietly, Kiska took a long tremulous breath and smiled gratefully at him. It
seemed she was feeling more stress than even she had realized. She put a hand
on his and squeezed lightly.
And then Sean did something else she hadn't expected. Gently, he began to draw
her towards him. He was so tentative at first that she had more than enough
time to understand what he was doing and could back away if she wished.
She didn't. Inch by inch, Sean Merrick pulled Kiska Saxman into his embrace.
As though moving through a dream, she slowly brought her own arms up and placed
them around his waist. Pressing into him, she lay her head on his chest and
began to listen to his heartbeat.
They stood silently that way for at least a minute: Kiska letting the slow rise
and fall of Sean's chest and his light stroking of her raven hair sooth her
exhausted body and mind.
Sean, for his part, could only guess at what Kiska was feeling. But he knew
what he felt. It had been so very long since he had held a woman this way. It
was like a man dying of thirst coming upon a pool in a desert oasis. He drank
her in: the warm
softness of her cheek and bosom against him, her silken hair under one hand, the
curve of her hip in his other, the trusting grip of her arms about his waist,
and the light fragrance of her perfume.
It must be, he mused, what it would feel like to take hold of the gate bars at
the threshold of heaven. An eager anticipation rose quickly within him. He
thought wryly at how the metaphor naturally extended: he was at the gates of
paradise and so badly wanted in ... inside her.
Ruthlessly, he pushed the flood of erotic notions back where they belonged.
They had no place here today and not for a good while after.
But once bidden, he could not stop the flow of blood to a certain member of his
anatomy that lay against her abdomen. He hoped to God that she wouldn't notice,
but in their full body embrace it was pretty impossible to miss. But, he
reasoned, Kiska wasn't a naive girl and as long as he didn't move ...
She turned slightly in his arms, jolting him. To his utter astonishment, she
looked up into his flushed cheeks with a glimmering smile, put her hands to the
back of his head, and pulled him down into a full deep kiss.
It was a sweet and tender kiss: passionate without being erotic and Sean
returned it with what he hoped was a restrained but clear hunger for her. When
finally she withdrew, Kiska gazed into his eyes with an indescribable mixture of
hope, joy, and admiration.
Sean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Normally after such a
kiss he would have said "I love you," but this was their first time. Somehow it
seemed inappropriate to say, "I'm massively infatuated with you and wish I
didn't have religious qualms about making love to you right now like a crazed
weasel."
So he said nothing as she slipped out from beneath his hands. But as he ogled
her swaying hips while she slowly walk back to the "ward", he found his voice
again.
"Kiska," he called lowly so as not to draw attention, "How about dinner at my
place? Thursday 1930. Buttered pepper salmon and wild rice."
Smiling brightly, she nodded. "I'll be there," she said, and went off back to
her work.
***
A short time later Sean asked the doc directly, "Stile, any progress?"
Corbett who was busy testing out another combination of plant life and sampling
of Kiska's blood, spared a half glance, saw who had come, sighed, and stopped
what he was doing. Could it be that the glib physician was worried too? Maybe
the man cared more than he would ever admit.
"Sean, I found a cure for the Gorn," he said with an ominous lack of enthusiasm.
He checked in the direction of the patients to be no one was within earshot.
"It won't be enough to cure all the Gorn. Four or five at most. The healthiest
ones." He closed his eyes against Sean's shocked reaction, took his hat off for
a moment, and rubbed at his scalp.
"What?" Sean probed apprehensively. "What else?"
Replacing his hat, Stile continued gravely, "Sean, I'm sorry. Getting the cure
will involve significant risk to LT Saxman's life."
NRPG: Can't have a Star Trek romance where at least one member in the couple is
not at risk of dying right? More about the cure next post. I'm harmonizing it
with what we know happened so far.
Respectfully Submitted,
Brian V. Mansur
LCDR Sean Merrick
FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703
ASR ORIGINS
Sent from my iPod

Revision as of 23:52, 28 February 2011

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ORIGINS: USS Hood Story Posts
Last Updated: 2262.059



Total Posts: 420+






[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Diplomacy

David Kiel

<snip from Mr. Wizard's Opus>

"Yes well, fortunately for me Bray is a civil being from the southern part of the Gorn home world. Unlike you she understands manners and we have been friends for many years. Now out of my way woman there is diplomacy a foot and while the Gorn may consider your slug tasty, I doubt they wish to converse with it." With that he set off down the hill.

<End snip.>

Cedria walked along with him, matching his pace and pulling her hair back in a tail lest she appear too wildly mamillian and confuse the lizard.

Stile looked annoyed. "Didn't I tell you to leave?"

"There was a lot of condescension involved, like I don't know what a voltaic cell is? And you as the diplomat? Please."

"Ill have you know, Yankee…."

"Oh and stow the Yankee crap, Im Trill. We have a south too, ours just has better schools."

Stile paused for a moment and stared at her. "Just try to be tactful for a change."

"Believe it or not I can be tactful, there is one thing that might trip us up though?"

"What?"

Cedria nodded to the approaching Gorn. "You didn't sleep with her did you?"


Respectfully submitted;

David Kiel

Lt Cedria Zade,

NAV, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Bug Hunt

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.035

MD 2.1152

Scene: SS MALLOW, Metron Sphere's Outer Surface

Nguyen felt his lunch pushing its way back up his esophagus. "In the name of ... ", he whispered horror-struck.

It looked to Nguyen like a body had exploded all over the compartment. Every surface was a smattering of blood and chunky yellow red and brown bits. The forward port was almost completely obscured by the innards of ... something. A little voice told Nguyen not to breath through his nose if he didn't want to immediately vomit.

"What," he gulped, "is it?"

One of the crewmen picked up a limb in his gloved hand. "It *was* humanoid," he pronounced showing the others the familiar shape of a foot on the stub's end.

Nguyen heard the man beside him wretch. He struggled to focus. "What did this?"

Sommers pulled a tricorder, tapped it a few times and frowned. "Perfect," he spat. "This thing isn't working."

"Frak," Ngyen cursed. "Sommers, take Niles and check out the aft hull."

Sommers looked at him as though he'd sprouted an extra head. Crewman Niles audibly swallowed. "You're fraking kidding me right, sir?" Sommers objected. "The tricorder doesn't work. What are the odds that the phasers work when we run across whatever did this?"

"Then take the fraking blow torch," told him testily.

Sommers didn't look the slightest bit comforted, but he hefted up the cutter like a rifle and slowly moved to the ship's rear hold. Privately the redshirt ensign thought that next time he found a derelict ship he would keep his big mouth shut.

Nguyen stepped up to the pilot's seat. It had shielded part of the control panel from the flying body parts so he didn't have to get his hands dirty tapping the multitouch. In moments, he had called up the ship's logs.

NRPG: Just as Andy predicted back in September, it ended badly for poor Free Trader Hober Antilles.


Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS


Sent from my iPod


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Voices from the Past

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.039

Scene: Merchant Vessel


It took a few seconds of coaxing but eventually the small monitor came to life and Nguyen found and older man staring back at him. He was the picture of the stereotypical merchie. A big head with multiple chins barely hidden beneath a scraggly red beard that matched his unkempt hair. He looked like he had seen the inside of his shower in a week, and that he didn’t care. There was a large black bruise across a good portion of his forehead and his left eye lid didn’t see to open as much as his right. Nguyen reached down and activated the playback.


“Log Entry.” There was a long silent pause as Captain Antilles stared angrily into the screen. He ran his tongue across his upper lip and seemed to take hold of himself. “This station is some sort of cosmic flytrap. When I got close enough it hit me with a tractor beam and pulled me in. Problem is that while the tractor worked with no problem the doors to this monstrosity didn’t and I got yanked down and smashed against the hull. There were at least three other vessels impaled into the hull. At least that was all I could make out as I spiralled down. We came in and rammed in right on top of another. Took out the engines and dam near every other system as well. I managed to get life support and minimal power back on line but the engines are shot. As is the frakkin comm unit. Totally shattered. I gave up trying to repair it two days ago. It looks like I’m here for awhile. Well at least until the air runs out. End log.


“Log entry. I managed to open up the hull and cut into the alien ship below. Its lifeless but I was able to get partial power restored. It’s coming up slowly so I’m going to sleep for the night and I’ll start the exploration in the morning. Hopefully by then the life support will have warmed it up. End log.


“Log entry. I spent the better part of the day searching the craft. Whoever was on it they must have abandoned ship because no one was home. No bodies. No nothing. Found something that appears to be food but I’m not hungry enough yet to try it. I haven’t been able to access the craft’s computers. Not for lack of trying I just can’t decipher the gibberish that’s all over the terminals.” He paused and then grinned. “At least it’s given me something to do. End log.”


“Log entry. Well I’ve given up on finding anything useful on this alien ship. It could be staring me in the face but I wouldn’t know it. I’ve decided to fall back on what works. I’ve located a part of the ship that *I think* is inside the station that snared me. I’m going to cut through the hull and see if I can get in there. It might be a waste of time but I don’t have anything else on my planner.” There was a large clank behind him and Antilles jerked back instinctively to see what had made it. “What the fra....” The monitor went black.


<<<NRPG>>>

So you can write your character or an NPC on the station working with the Gorn, as part of the landing party examining Antilles’ ship or someone aboard HOOD. Lots to write about guys.


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS


[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Evening Stroll

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.042

Scene: Derelict Station


With an uneasy truce in place and Stile and Bray working on finding a cure while Zade provided assistance the rest of the two complements had seemed content to stare malevolently at each other. Before things had gotten any worse Jack had decided they could all use the distraction of exploring the alien station. His suggestion to the Gorn XO that they work together at this had fallen on deaf ears until a low guttural his from Bray had suddenly changed the big lizard’s mind. From there it was agreed that they would search in small groups of four, two Starfleet officers and two Gorn to a group. In that way they could keep an eye on each other, it would lessen the chance that one side would make a discovery and not share the information with the other and, in Jack’s case at least, there was the hope that it would spur some sort of cooperation and understanding between the two groups however small.


Twenty minutes later Jack and Gene Lowl walked slowly through the alien landscape with a Gorn security officer and the XO who Jack had finally learned was named Gilo. He was beginning to doubt that his hope for some sort of lessen of tension at least with the obstinate executive officer would be possible. The Gorn had refused to answer any question that Jack had asked him about his home world, how long he had served in the Gorn navy or anything else. He figured the Gorn thought he was trying to pry classified information out of him but all he really was hoping for was a conversation. So now the small group of four walked along in silence.


“Do humans always ask so many questions?” Gilo suddenly said.


Jack stopped in his tracks he was so surprised and was nearly run over by the Gorn who had been walking behind him. “Well humans are a curious species.” He said as he fell back into step with Gilo. “It’s why we’re out here, we like to explore. To see whats beyond the next hill or the next star. But I was interested in you and wanted to use the time to establish a rapport with you.”


“Why?”


“Well in the short term we clearly need to work together if we hope to escape this world.”


“And beyond the short term?”


“You and I are both aware that our two governments are at a stalemate in discussions about this area of space.”


“This is our space!”


Jack raised a hand. “Perhaps and perhaps not. You and I are soldiers and we follow the orders of our superiors. Right now my orders are that we are to minimize tensions with the Gorn in this area of space until such time as a decision is made.”


“Our orders are similar.” Gilo conceded surprising Jack with his admission.


“Well neither of us are going to change that now. I have very little idea as to how your government works and what exactly your strategic thinking is about this however I have a pretty good idea as to how mine goes.”


“And that is?”


Jack considered how best to answer this question without giving too much away. “Well from what I can see there are only minor areas of contention, accepting this sector, between our two states. Once this matter is settled, and assuming it is done so in a amicable fashion there is no reason to believe our governments can’t have formal and friendly exchanges. On the other hand both our frontiers rub up against another government.”


“The Romulans.” Gilo hissed.


Jack nodded. “The Romulans. Its no secret that we’re not on the best of terms with them. So it only makes sense that we would look to friendly relations with other states on our border, especially ones who may have the same tensions with their neighbours as us.”


This time it was Gilo’s turn to stop. He stared at Jack for several seconds. “I understand now why my captain likes you humans.”


<<<NRPG>>>


Just some 6th Fleet future development. And more stuff for you to write about as your characters interact with your Gorn counterparts.


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1703

STARFLEET: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Rocky Watch Me Pull A Rabbit Out of My Hat

by Steve Apple

SD: 2262.043

Scene: Metron Sphere


Corbett stood and arched his back trying to work out the soreness he felt from the hours of sitting he had endured running test after test on the virus. It was a construct just as he feared. Its genetic engineering was however a site to behold. It was clear that it would kill both species very soon, he approximated that it would begin to be lethal within 36 hours.


“Clooose to cure,” Bray rasped.


“I think so darlin. The cypress bushes you brought back yielded the Thuja extract I needed.”


“Ssso cure,” she stated again.


“Not quite, you can see that the Thuja is attacking the virus, but it’s not potent enough and is getting overwhelmed.”


Bray gently pushed past Stile and looked down at the specimen he had been gesturing to. A small amount of her saliva hit the glass dish.


“Well there goes hours of research,” Corbett sighed in frustration.


“Not ssscientist,” Bray rasped in apology.


“It’s not your fault darling I got carried away and the fatigue didn’t help.”


Sitting back down he took a look at the sample to see if there was anything he could salvage. “Son of a bi…” He yelled.


“What is it,” Kiska said quickly moving over to him.


“Look at the virus it’s dying,”


“You found the cure?” She shouted.


Corbett pushed his hat to the back of his head. “More precisely Bray did,” He said looking up at the Gorn and smiling. “Look at the area where her saliva is, the virus is dying.”


Kiska looked up at him. “You’re saying Gorn saliva is the cure.”


Corbett rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment deep in thought. “Back in the 21st century they isolated Exendin a protein found in the salivary venom of Gila monsters. The protein helped create some effective cures for diabetes. I think the mixture of her saliva and the Thuja extract worked.”


“Do you ever make sense,” Zade asked popping her head into the cave to monitor Corbett’s progress.


“Only to the educated,” He shot back. “However, if it will keep you from bothering me further I’ll explain it to you.”


“This I got to hear.” Zade said standing next to Kiska.


“I’ll try and make this simple for you.” He started. “Before the tricorder went dead I was able to discern that our affliction was an Adenovirus type that affected both Reptile and Human. Since I am not bogged down by three hundred years of multiple people’s memories I remembered something from my homeopathic class in med school. They used to use Thuja, an extract from the cypress tree, as a treatment for Adenovirus.”


“And you just happened to have some handy.”


“Yes I did,” He said smugly. “This area is abundant with it. So to make a long story short the Thuja mixed with Gorn salivary protein affected a cure.”


“So when do you start treating everyone?” Zade asked.


“I need to run some more test to be sure of the mixtures concentration, but shortly.”


Zade narrowed her eyes a bit. “Shortly maybe too late as some of our people as well as the Gorn have already begun to show signs of it.”


“I am aware of that, now be gone and let me work in peace.”


After several hours of study he stood and looked over at Bray who was motionless in what he assumed was some form of self meditation. He frowned as he rubbed his eyes, this was news that he did not want to give to her, news that could have far reaching consequences. “I need some air darlin,” he said adjusting his hat and heading for the exit.


Bray nodded at him and went back to her meditation.


Corbett found Zade a few meters from the entrance to the cave. “I need to talk,” he said.


Zade looked up at him, but hesitated for a moment. Judging by his face now wasn’t the time for banter. “The cure fell through.”


“No,” he whispered shaking his head. “I can start administering it to our people within the hour.”


“That’s good isn’t it?”


“The treatment that I have is only effective in humanoids. At best it may extend the Gorn’s survivability by four hours or so.”


“You’re kidding.”


“I wish I wasn’t. I don’t think I can find a way to make the cure work for the Gorn in time. As I said the combination of their saliva and natural foliage will work for us, but not them. I tried to use human saliva and even blood, but…”


“But…” She said trying to coax him.


“But nothing, saliva failed and so did almost all the blood mixtures. The best I could do was mix up a retardant using one of the crews blood.”


“Wait a minute you used one of the crew’s blood to make a retardant for them, but you can’t come up with a cure. Somehow that doesn’t sound right.”


Corbett sighed. It didn’t make much sense to him either. Something in the ABO blood group was the key. “Something in the human blood type AB affects their variant of the disease, but I don’t have the right blood. No one on this landing party is AB negative, which is what’s needed. Lowl is AB positive and his blood acted with the Thuja, but only as a retardant. Without AB negative blood to test and work with the Gorn will die from this virus.”


“Great no political implications from that.” This time Zade found herself sighing.


<NRPG> Maybe Antillies is AB negative.

Respectfully Submitted

Steve Apple

Stile Corbett, MD

CMO, USS HOOD NCC-1703

ASR: ORIGINS

6th Fleet



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: Challenges And Opportunities

by Lena Rose

2262.045

Kiska wondered if she were still not infect by the virus. Before the tricorder had died, it had read that she was still virus free, even though everyone else was infected. She didn't worry about it at the time as she assumed in a matter of time she would be infected like everyone else and so she helped the doc during his studying and testing of the virus by getting things he needed as any good nurse would.

The rest of the time she was busy checking the crews vitals as best she could from time to time, keeping a record as best she could with what she had on hand, what the planet provided. She had heard stories as a child that her Yup'ik family many generations ago, before technology, had survived on the land and nothing more. She made reports to the doc every so often to keep him updated.

While the doc was working on the new cure, she returned to help with the Gorn so that she could compare records. At first Kiska had been like a fish out of water. But she never back down from a challenge and she also wanted the opportunity to learn more about the Gorn.

The Gorn were not very trusting at first with her presence and her being allowed to probe them physically. There had even been a couple that refused to allow her to touch them.


To Be Continued



Respectfully Submitted,

Lena Rose

LTjg. Kiska Saxman

Nurse

USS HOOD NCC-1703



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: We're Going In

by Andy Catterick

SD: 2262.44

Scene: Merchant Vessel



“Sir we found something.”


“Is it something nasty looking with long sharp teeth?” Nguyen answered numbly as he stared down at the remains of what he assumed had once been Hober Antilles.


“Teeth sir?” The security trooper asked.


Nguyen gave himself a mental shake and looked up. “Report.”


“We’ve found no one aboard the ship sir.” The red shirt replied trying to see what it was that had gotten his superior so spooked. “But we did find a large hole cut into the outer hull, it looks like it leads into another vessel sir.”


“You didn’t enter it did you Sims?” Nguyen asked hoping the mild panic he felt was evident in his voice.


If it was the trooper chose not to let on. “No sir. We’ve secured the area and did a sweep with our tricorder. No lifesigns but we think there is another hole cut into *that* ship. That one leads into the station. We could rescue the landing party!”


Nguyen nodded. “Did the tricorder reveal information on where that ship came from.”


“No sir.” The trooper shook his head wondering why the boss wasn’t happy with the prospect of rescuing the captain. They’d be heros. “I’m afraid I couldn’t identify the type of craft lieutenant.” Not really my specialty his tone of voice added. “And no sign of this ship’s master either.”


“He’s right here.” Nguyen answered grimly as he stepped aside to allow him a better view. He flipped open his communicator. “Nguyen to HOOD.” Pause. “Nguyen to HOOD.” He looked back to Sims. “Try yours.”


“Dead sir.”


“Great.” Nguyen muttered. With loss of communication and a shredded body the safe bet was to head back to HOOD. On the other hand the landing party could be in danger from what ever had ripped up the merchant skipper and he could offer them a way out. But what if he led his team, and himself into the clutches of whatever did this. “Sims. Pick one of your team brief him on this and have him head back to HOOD to report to Commander Gar. The rest of us are going in the station.”


Respectfully,


Andy

CAPT Jack Steele

CO, USS HOOD NCC 1709

STARFLEET: ORIGINS



[ORIGINS] USS HOOD: To Court a Nightingale

by Brian V. Mansur

SD 2262.048

MD 2.2110

Scene: Metron Sphere

The scouting parties began to drag in after only four hours, their Gorn members on the verge of collapse. Within another two, many of the aliens were becoming seriously debilitated. By twelfth hour since Corbett had found a cure for the humans, most of the big lizards were checking themselves into the improvised sick ward that Kiska had prepared.

At least the scouts had found a few new herbals for Corbett to try out. They had even located a nearby stream to replenish their drained canteens.

While Corbett kept at his improvised lab work, Sean watched Kiska lovingly tend to the ill. He marveled at how exceptionally kind she came across in her roll as nurse. She was attentive and proactive regarding her patients' needs. She brought damp linens to ease their fevers, water to rehydrate, and she never once flinched at the unenviable task of wiping away excrement when the creatures became too weak to make it to the latrine.

And she kept smiling around them. She did it even though she probably suspected as he that they couldn't read human facial expressions yet.

It was in that darling smile that Sean noticed the first signs of strain. More and more when she turned away from the Gorn, the smile slipped. Then as the hours rolled on and more Gorn came in, worry lines began to distort her pretty face. She tried to keep the lapses to when she thought no one was looking. But it was plain to Sean how frustrated and afraid she was for her patients, knowing she could only try to ease their discomfort while waiting for a breakthrough.

Eventually Sean, with little else to do, became a nurse's aide. He had proven less adept at controlling his gag reflex around the malodorous greenies, so she had tasked him with working the laundry and hydro duty. From time to time he took the soiled alien garments to a washing spot. They dared not pollute the stream, but a hollowed out pseudo-cactus allowed then to move water around in quantity. After washing, he laid the clothes out on rocks to dry and went back for more.

During a lull in the workflow, he motioned her over. At first he began to ask how she was doing. Then he saw the dull fatigue in her ice blue eyes. "Let's step over there for a minute," he said, gesturing to a boulder that would take them out of sight from the others.

When he was satisfied that they had a measure of privacy, he told her, "Corbett may be on to something with the blood sample you gave him." It wasn't quite a fib. Stile had said very little about his progress lately. But he could see Kiska needed something to lift her spirits. Suddenly hopeful, she point blank asked to know what Stile had said exactly. Caught, Sean tried to equivocate. "Well, he hasn't been cursing at Zade for several hours so that has to be a good sign right?"

He could see Kiska wasn't fooled. "Sean, please I don't need protecting," she said, no longer smiling.

Sean put up his hands and rushed, "No, I don't mean to be like that. It is just that you've been at this all day and I figured you could do with a dose of encouragement.

For several seconds she just stared into his earnest blue eyes. The look of weariness intensified over her fair features. "I don't like not being able to help my patients. Even if they do smell worse than week old dead cod."

Sean snapped his fingers. "So that was why the stench seemed familiar."

Wanly, Kiska shook her head over his dry attempt at humor. She looked as if all she wanted was to sleep for about a week.

Sean put a hand on her shoulder. She regarded him, curiously, uncertain at how she should react to his touch. With a proud smile, Sean told her, "What you are doing here may be the most important thing you ever do in your career. A Federation nurse caring for a group of helpless Gorn? That has to score some points towards making thing better between them and us. And that could protect more lives than we could ever dream of."

Imperceptibly, Kiska nodded in response. Sean continued, "So if no one else ever says it, I will." He put his other hand on her arm and softly whispered, "Thank you."

Quietly, Kiska took a long tremulous breath and smiled gratefully at him. It seemed she was feeling more stress than even she had realized. She put a hand on his and squeezed lightly.

And then Sean did something else she hadn't expected. Gently, he began to draw her towards him. He was so tentative at first that she had more than enough time to understand what he was doing and could back away if she wished.

She didn't. Inch by inch, Sean Merrick pulled Kiska Saxman into his embrace. As though moving through a dream, she slowly brought her own arms up and placed them around his waist. Pressing into him, she lay her head on his chest and began to listen to his heartbeat.

They stood silently that way for at least a minute: Kiska letting the slow rise and fall of Sean's chest and his light stroking of her raven hair sooth her exhausted body and mind.

Sean, for his part, could only guess at what Kiska was feeling. But he knew what he felt. It had been so very long since he had held a woman this way. It was like a man dying of thirst coming upon a pool in a desert oasis. He drank her in: the warm softness of her cheek and bosom against him, her silken hair under one hand, the curve of her hip in his other, the trusting grip of her arms about his waist, and the light fragrance of her perfume.

It must be, he mused, what it would feel like to take hold of the gate bars at the threshold of heaven. An eager anticipation rose quickly within him. He thought wryly at how the metaphor naturally extended: he was at the gates of paradise and so badly wanted in ... inside her.

Ruthlessly, he pushed the flood of erotic notions back where they belonged. They had no place here today and not for a good while after.

But once bidden, he could not stop the flow of blood to a certain member of his anatomy that lay against her abdomen. He hoped to God that she wouldn't notice, but in their full body embrace it was pretty impossible to miss. But, he reasoned, Kiska wasn't a naive girl and as long as he didn't move ...

She turned slightly in his arms, jolting him. To his utter astonishment, she looked up into his flushed cheeks with a glimmering smile, put her hands to the back of his head, and pulled him down into a full deep kiss.

It was a sweet and tender kiss: passionate without being erotic and Sean returned it with what he hoped was a restrained but clear hunger for her. When finally she withdrew, Kiska gazed into his eyes with an indescribable mixture of hope, joy, and admiration.

Sean wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. Normally after such a kiss he would have said "I love you," but this was their first time. Somehow it seemed inappropriate to say, "I'm massively infatuated with you and wish I didn't have religious qualms about making love to you right now like a crazed weasel."

So he said nothing as she slipped out from beneath his hands. But as he ogled her swaying hips while she slowly walk back to the "ward", he found his voice again.

"Kiska," he called lowly so as not to draw attention, "How about dinner at my place? Thursday 1930. Buttered pepper salmon and wild rice."

Smiling brightly, she nodded. "I'll be there," she said, and went off back to her work.

A short time later Sean asked the doc directly, "Stile, any progress?"

Corbett who was busy testing out another combination of plant life and sampling of Kiska's blood, spared a half glance, saw who had come, sighed, and stopped what he was doing. Could it be that the glib physician was worried too? Maybe the man cared more than he would ever admit.

"Sean, I found a cure for the Gorn," he said with an ominous lack of enthusiasm. He checked in the direction of the patients to be no one was within earshot. "It won't be enough to cure all the Gorn. Four or five at most. The healthiest ones." He closed his eyes against Sean's shocked reaction, took his hat off for a moment, and rubbed at his scalp.

"What?" Sean probed apprehensively. "What else?"

Replacing his hat, Stile continued gravely, "Sean, I'm sorry. Getting the cure will involve significant risk to LT Saxman's life."

NRPG: Can't have a Star Trek romance where at least one member in the couple is not at risk of dying right? More about the cure next post. I'm harmonizing it with what we know happened so far.

Respectfully Submitted,

Brian V. Mansur

LCDR Sean Merrick

FO, USS HOOD, NCC-1703

ASR ORIGINS


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