***The Hills of Time***
***by George Pollock, Jr.***

***Chapter 17***
***Terrible Truths**

   Picard had done this before. The trick was to make it seem unthinkingly 
natural.
   "Rehearsed impromptu sincerity," he called it.
   You never memorized the speech. You just remembered the topics you wanted 
to cover. Let the situation dictate what you eventually say -- it was 
something he had learned through much experience.
   First contact.
   It was a misnomer in this case: The truly first contact had been in 
sickbay. Or -- in Commander Dawn's case -- the brig.
   Now, that was a wonderful first impression to give a newly met sentient 
species, Picard agonized ...
   And he wasn't certain whether the Paranoid had sincerely dismissed it.
   So he had at last invited them -- officially -- to his ready room:
   Captain Eluza Ortiz the Solnoid.
   Commander Dawn the Paranoid.
   First contact.
   Which, he admitted ...
   ... was always a good reason for what he was about to do.
   "On Earth ...," Picard began, "... what you knew as 'Terra' ... we have a 
fruit called a 'grape.' We ferment the juice and let it age."
   As Eluza and Dawn watched, he withdrew a dark-green cylinder from a case. 
At one end, it narrowed to a thin neck. There was a faded label of some sort 
on it, and the vessel was dusty to the point of being slightly crusty with 
dirt. Picard studied it for a moment.
   Almost ... lovingly, Eluza thought.
   But she wasn't sure ...
   "The result," the starship captain continued, "is a beverage we call 
'wine.' "
   He produced three glasses from the case and set them on his desk. "My 
family has been making 'wine' for ..." He paused to think. "... nearly 700 
years now ..."
   With a "pop," Picard pulled a light-brown, red-stained stopper of some 
sort out of the narrow end. He tilted the green cylinder over to start a 
dark-red -- almost maroon -- liquid glugging into the glasses. "This wine is 
from my family's estate in France -- a region of Earth. It is called 
'burgundy.' "
   When the glasses were filled, he offered one to Eluza and another to Dawn. 
He held the third up. "It is a tradition in many parts of Earth that when 
friends meet -- and especially when new friends meet -- they share wine. And 
they share a greeting called a 'toast.' " He smiled. "I would like to offer a 
toast to you both now."
   The Solnoid and Paranoid looked at their glasses, then at each other. 
Finally, tentatively, they took the vessels in hand. Almost sheepishly, Eluza 
held hers up, as Picard was doing. Her eyes met his inquisitively, asking 
whether she was doing as she should. Picard nodded in approval.
   Dawn watched the interaction. An instant later, he also raised his glass.
   "To our new friends, the Solnoids and the Paranoid," Picard intoned. "May 
this be the first of many friendly and mutually beneficial encounters."
   "Mother, make it so," Eluza replied softly.
   "As the Maker will," Dawn offered.
   Eluza brought the glass to her face and gave the liquid a wary sniff. She 
hummed quietly in delight, then placed the vessel on her lips and parted them.
   Picard sipped and savored the taste.
   Home, he thought ...
   As always ...
   It tastes like home ...
   "Now, wine can have an intoxicating effect if you're not used to it," he 
cautioned. "I advise that you drink it ..."
   He never finished the sentence.
   Eluza snapped back her head and drained the glass in one motion. 
   She pursed her lips slightly, then licked them lightly. 
   And she thought.
   "That's ... very good, Captain ...," she said at last. She studied her 
empty glass with its dregs of deep red and looked back at Picard. She held 
her glass out toward him. "Would it be acceptable to have another serving?"
   The Starfleet officer regarded her in silence. Then he looked at the 
bottle:
   Chateau Picard, 2189.
   His only bottle.
   Nearly 200 years old.
   He glanced back at the young woman with the dark-pink hair and eager 
purple eyes. And the sincere, appreciative smile.
   Who had just bolted down ...
   ... nearly 200-year-old burgundy ...
   He looked back at the bottle.
   He looked back at Eluza.
   At the bottle.
   At Eluza.
   Inwardly, he sighed.
   Outwardly ...
   "Of course," he finally replied, brightly. He put down his glass, picked 
up the bottle and poured.
   A quarter-glass.
   "You might want to drink slowly this time, Captain," he suggested. "As I 
said, it can be intoxicating for neophytes."
   She marveled at the liquid. "All right," she said. "And thank you ..."
   Dawn had been holding his glass silently. "I also thank you for the 
gesture, Captain," he said, "and I accept it in the spirit in which it was 
offered. But my species doesn't ingest solid sustenance. Please accept my 
thanks -- and please finish my portion for me."
   Eluza was enjoying the fluid's aroma again. "I'll gladly help you, Captain 
..."
   Picard finished another sip. "Thank you ... both ...," he answered 
diplomatically. He set his glass down again. "Now, allow me to tell you about 
the United Federation of Planets. We are, as I told Captain Ortiz earlier, a 
democratic association of allied planets that acts for the good of all."
   Dawn had no eyebrows but seemed to raise one. " 'Demo-cra-tic'?"
   "Individual rights, representative government, civilian control of the 
military -- among other things," Picard explained.
  The Paranoid's eyes widened slightly. "That works?"
   "So far," Picard noted. "Each planet has a unique identity that 
contributes to the overall character of the Federation. A cooperative work in 
progress, to use an artistic analogy."
   Eluza sighed and put her glass on the desk. "Species cooperating," she 
mused. "I can't ... imagine. After all the millennia of war ..." She looked 
down. "The damned war ..., " she whispered.
   The starship captain thought for a moment. "You've mentioned your species' 
war before, Captain Ortiz. I am curious -- and I have no desire to provoke an 
argument -- but ..." He began to proceed delicately. "... if I may ask ... 
both of you ... what was the ... cause ... of the conflict?"
   Silence filled the ready room.
   Picard noticed that Eluza's eyes seemed to drift off, as if she were fixed 
on a dream.
   And he noticed that Dawn's eyes were narrowed, as if focused on a distant 
target.
   Eventually, slowly, the two beings turned toward each other.
   They studied one another. Deeply.
   Until Eluza's head, ever so slightly, started to shake.
   "I'm ... not sure ...," she admitted softly.
   Commander Dawn faced her quietly for another moment. "Well," he rumbled 
lowly at last, "if you're willing to admit that, Captain ... I will admit ... 
that makes two of us ... "
   They studied each other again. Deeply.
   Slowly, they turned back toward the Starfleet captain.
   Looking almost as if they were ...
   ... ashamed, Picard thought.
   But he wasn't sure.
   "You don't know what you were fighting about?" Picard asked, not unkindly.
   Eluza studied her wine glass on the desk. "All I know," she said tiredly, 
"is that I was always told we had always fought the Paranoids -- and that we 
had to win." She looked up at Picard. "The end of the war was important -- 
not the beginning ..."
   "If I may extol Paranoid civilization for a moment," Dawn took up, "our 
record-keeping was always exemplary. Much better than the Solnoids' ..." He 
glanced at Eluza. "With all due respect, Captain, I think you would concede 
that."
   She shrugged. "Our records pretty much fell apart by the end of the war. I 
don't deny that ..."
   "Captain Picard," Dawn continued, "I could cite attack and counterattack, 
offensive and counteroffensive  -- every Paranoid victory ... and every 
Paranoid defeat -- going back centuries ..."
   "Indeed?" Picard said.
   "Oh, yes. But I will tell you -- and Captain Ortiz -- that what started 
the war was apparently so remote in time, even we don't know the actual 
cause." He paused. "And the only possible explanation we ever had was only a 
legend."
   Picard's expression picked up. "A legend?"
   Dawn nodded. "An apocryphal tale. A fragment of one, in fact."
   Eluza looked at the Paranoid with growing  inquisitiveness. "A legend ... 
about ..." She paused, not sure whether to proceed.
   She chose to go on.
   "... a rock ... Commander ...?"
  Dawn was silent. Then he seemed to smile slightly. "By the Maker, Captain," 
he replied, "you amaze me ..." He nodded. "Yes, the legend involved a rock."
   "We had a myth, too," the Solnoid commander noted,"... about a rock ..."
   Picard leaned forward. "A rock?"
   Dawn said, "Our legend says that when a Paranoid met a Solnoid for the 
very first time, one of them ... um ... "
   His right hand started moving back and forth, outward from his shell. 
"Well ..."
   "Threw a rock at the other," Eluza concluded matter-of-factly.
   Dawn rested his hand. "Exactly ..."
   Silence filled the ready room.
   The male captain considered the tale. "Who threw the rock?" he asked 
sincerely.
   Dawn sighed deeply. "I could be a true Paranoid, Captain, and repeat our 
propaganda, and accuse the Solnoid  -- but the fact is ..." He paused. "... I 
don't know ... The actual legend was ... vague ... about that ..."
   He looked at Eluza, hoping for an answer.
   Any answer.
   She had her wine glass in her hand again. "And I could accuse the Paranoid 
... We were always told it was the Paranoid ... " She shook her head, then 
glanced at Dawn. "But I don't know, either ... In all honesty, I don't know 
..."
   Eluza took a slow, sad sip and thought. "Commander," she said softly, 
watching the deep-red liquid swirl slightly, "did you ever think of how many 
... billions ... that one damned rock ... killed ...?"
   The Paranoid closed his red eyes and shook his head.
   "One damned rock ...," Eluza repeated in a whisper.
   She felt her purple eyes start to moisten. She closed them and finished 
her wine.

*******

   It was beautiful.
   It was so beautiful.
   The glowing blue column.
   The energy inside moved quickly and liquidly.
   As if, Patty thought ...
   ... it were alive ...
   She watched the energy swim.
   So beautiful ...
   "Yep," LaForge sighed, checking a readout on a control panel, "that's the 
warp core, all right. Standard starship design." He glanced over at the 
Solnoid. "Seen one, you've seen 'em all."
   Patty finally looked at the chief engineer. "But if you've never seen one, 
Commander ..." She shook her head and turned back toward the core for a 
moment. "...it's ... graceful ..."
   LaForge nodded. "Well, I thought you'd like to see how we do things here 
in Engineering. After you got through with Doctor Crusher -- and told me you 
were your ship's operations officer -- I thought you'd want to see the heart 
of the Enterprise."
   She smiled. "Thank you. It's all so wonderful. I thought I was a chief 
engineer, but when I see this ..." She swept a hand, indicating the engine 
room. "... I feel like I was just tinkering around with junk ..." Then she 
smirked. "Chief fixer, cook and bottle-washer, I suppose."
   "Tell you the truth," the man replied, "even with all this, there are 
times I am the chief fixer and bottle-washer around here." He grinned. "I 
leave the cooking to the replicators."
   Patty chuckled and looked up at the core again. "Matter/antimatter 
reaction. It's so ... simple." She faced LaForge again. "That's probably why 
we never thought of it: We always had to do things the hard way. The war ... 
did that to you ..."
   "What sort of propulsion system did your ships use?"
   "Multibank phasic compression, creating an artificial singularity. We 
called the compression unit the 'repression furnace.' Directing the 
singularity's gravitational field provided our light drive."
   He nodded, impressed. "What sort of power distribution did you use?"
   "Polaric circuits."
   At which, Patty noticed the male's blue eyes widen.
   What did I say? she thought ...
   "Polaric energy?!" LaForge repeated. "You used polaric energy?!"
   "Yes ...," she said warily.
   He stumbled over his own words. "You're ... you're ... lucky to be here, 
Commander! We tried polaric energy centuries ago. It would cascade if the 
containment field ever failed. Entire communities disappeared in a flash."
   He shook his head in disbelief. "You're lucky your ships didn't blow up 
under you ..."
   Patty was silent.
   And for an instant ...
   ... a terrible instant ...
   ... she remembered the fate of the original Star Leaf.
   She turned away from him and lost herself in the swimming blue energy 
above.
   And she was sadness:
   "They did."
   
*******

   Lufy left sickbay, nearly unable to breathe.
   She heard the doors slide shut behind her. She fought to focus.
   Away, she thought ... gotta get away ...
   Away ...
   She started down the corridor, lurching almost mindlessly, each step 
becoming a struggle. On her right, she saw a cross corridor. She stumbled 
around the corner and fell back against the bulkhead.
   No one here, she thought. Good. Gotta catch my breath ...
   She doubled over, bracing herself with her hands on her knees.
   Mother ...
   Oh ... Mother ...
   She swallowed hard.
   Mother ...
   Why are we here ...?
   She closed her eyes and remembered.
   How she had taken Captain Picard's jacket to the doctor, as he had asked.
   The doctor ...
   Lufy took a deep breath.
   That damned doctor ... she was either a fool ... or a male collaborator ...
   Either way, Lufy hated her now. Despised her. Loathed her.
   Her and her calm and her smiles.
   Lufy straightened up flat against the bulkhead and opened her eyes. She 
started to get control of her breathing.
   And tried to forget the disgusting memories.
   Of why the people stared at her.
   No ... not just because she had been topless. There was Solnoids here 
already. Hadn't they seen a topless Solnoid before her?
   No ... she didn't care about that ...
   It was the deeper reason.
   The deeper, darker reason ...
   What did that redheaded bitch-doctor call it?
   Oh, yeah ...
   "Sex."
   Even the word was ugly.
   Sex.
   What happened if a Solnoid went topless around males -- or even one -- 
long enough. Topless at the least, the doctor had said.
   Sex.
   And if there weren't bad enough, the bitch had described how it worked ...
   Thank the Mother I'm an Attacker, Lufy thought.
   I woulda puked on her desk.
   Those males ...
   And their ...
   ... another ugly word ...
   ... "spurm" ...
   Or something like that ... 
   Pictures.
   The doctor had started displaying pictures of "spurm" on a datapad. Images 
that were horrendously, disgustingly ...
   ... accurate.
   I coulda taken that, Lufy thought ...
   ... coulda ...
   But ... I'm ... a fool ... a damned fool ...
   Mother ... forgive me ...
   I had to ask ...
   ... how ...
   ... "spurm" got into a Solnoid ...
   Lufy closed her eyes again.
   That's when I nearly lost it on her desk ...
   Oh, Mother ...
   And then the doctor described ...
   ... what "spurm" did to a Solnoid.
   More pictures.
   Of a thing ...
   ... a small ... Solnoid ...
   ... or even a male ...
   Lufy swallowed again.
   A small, living being ...
   ... growing ...
   ... inside the Solnoid ...
   Oh, Mother ...
   And even more pictures ...
   ... of how the being ...
   ... left the Solnoid ...
   Gotta give the bitch credit, Lufy thought:
   She admitted that the "leaving" wasn't pleasant.
   Because then the doctor had talked about her ...
   ..."sonh" ...
   Her male child.
   The one put into her by a male ...
   ... the one that grew in her ...
   ... the one that ...
   ... left her ...
   Lufy opened her eyes again.
   That's when I hated her ...
   Because even after admitting that her body had been ...
   ... polluted by a male ...
   ... infected ...
   ... violated ...
   ... the bitch had smiled.
   Smiled and said she was proud she had ...
   ... "borne" a "sonh" ...
   And that her life was blessed by him ...
   ... and by the love that her "mate" ...
   ... her "huss-band" ...
   ... had given her.
   Lufy shook her head.
   "Love"?
   This ... filth ...
   ... was "love" ...?
   That doctor ...
   She was either a fool ... or a male collaborator ...
   And the Attacker had realized in that moment she had no further use of the 
woman.
   She had stood up abruptly, surprising the older redhead. "That's all I 
needed to know. Thanks," Lufy said curtly.
   The doctor was still a little flustered. "I hope I've been of some ... 
help," she replied. "Please feel free to contact me if you have ... any other 
questions ..."
   Lufy drew a sharp breath. "I don't think I'll have any." She turned and 
walked away, realizing that she was starting to feel woozy. Still, at the 
doors, she paused and looked back at the bitch-doctor.
   "But you can bet," she growled, "that you won't see me runnin' topless 
around here again ..."
   At that, she had exited sickbay.
   And now ...
   Lufy heard voices coming down the other corridor. She flattened further 
against the bulkhead and waited.
   A male and Solnoid in this ship's crew uniforms passed by, talking and 
laughing. They were so intent on each other, they never noticed the wary 
blonde just by the corner. After they passed, Lufy carefully moved out and 
watched them head away, still involved with themselves.
   Oblivious ...
   ... like food animals acted in a breeding pit ...
   ... or how she had been told they acted ...
   ... long ago ...
   She balled her fists and bent her head.
   What do I now?
   What now?!
   Think, damn it, Lufy, think!
   Rabby ...
   Gotta warn Rabby ...
   ... and the others ...
   She lifted her head and scanned the corridor. In the direction where the 
pair had gone was a computer-interface panel. She went to it. "Computer, tell 
me where Rabby Ciera is."
   "Guest Rabby Ciera is in Ten Forward."
   "Show me where that is."
   "Please follow the flashing red bars to Ten Forward."
   At that, red panels started to flash sequentially down the corridor. Lufy 
headed in the direction they indicated.
   Swabby, she thought ...
   ... ya gotta know ...
   ... it's a trap ...
   ... this is all a trap ...
   Mother ...
   ... you sent us ...
   ... to hell ...
   But, Mother ...
   I don't understand ...
   What did we do?
   Why are we here?
   Why ...?

*******

   Dawn formed a fist slowly. Then just as slowly, he spread his fingers out.
   Another fist. And stretching the fingers out again.
   "You see," he said, watching his hand, "it is me, Captain Picard. My shell 
is my other self." He looked up at the human. "It's a machine. And it's ... 
home. But it's not me. It's a tool I live in. The real me is something that 
..." 
   He glanced at Eluza on his left. "... something that others feared ..."
   The Solnoid looked down and said nothing.
   Dawn shrugged. "But I don't think I -- as a unique being -- am something 
to be feared." He sighed. "I don't think you can honestly understand the 
duality here. I'm sorry ..."
   Picard looked pensive behind his desk. "Has either of you," he finally 
said, "ever heard of a race called the 'Borg'?"
   Eluza looked at Dawn, and he looked back. After exchanging questioning 
glances, they turned to the Starfleet officer and shook their heads.
   "I suppose that's not surprising," Picard said. "You're both from long 
before the Borg's time ..."
   "We're both from long before everyone's time around here, Captain," Eluza 
noted. There was a strange hint of playfulness in her voice.
   The starship captain studied the young woman for a moment. He noticed that 
lids of her eyes -- her amazingly large purple eyes -- were starting to 
droop. Just noticeably. And her focus seemed to wander ever so slightly. And 
there was just a hint -- at the right angle and at the right light -- of ...
   ... a creeping smile.
   But he wasn't sure.
   "Point taken, Captain," Picard replied. "In any event, the Borg are a race 
of cyborgs -- hence their clipped name. They are humanoids whose life cycle 
has evolved into needing cybernetic implants to survive.  So many, in fact, 
that a drone -- a member of their society -- is an amalgam of organic being 
and machine."
   Eluza squinted. "Oh, yuck!"
   Both human and Paranoid glanced at her in startled silence. " 'Yuck,' 
Captain ...?"  Dawn asked.
   She shivered. "Cybernetic implants ... poked into your body ... Disgusting 
..."
   "I," Picard said, "was a drone once."
    Eluza gazed at him for an instant. The creeping smile broadened slowly. 
She closed her eyes lazily and chuckled. "Oh, SHIT ..." Her head bowed and 
started to shake from side to side. Her voice took on an embarrassed singsong 
quality. "Sorrr ... rrry ..."
   The two others regarded her quietly. "Captain Ortiz," Picard said at last, 
"are you all right?"
   She looked up and blinked. A lot. "I'm fine ... thanks ..."
   Dawn looked at her askance. "Are you sure you're all right, Captain?"
   "I said I'm FINE!"
   After which, Eluza visibly swayed. But she caught herself. "Sorry ... I 
yelled ... And sorry I insulted you, Captain ... Didn't know you were a ... 
whacha said ..."
   "No offense taken, Captain," Picard answered. "I was a drone only a short 
time. I was called 'Locutus.' " He paused. "I was Borg. I was Jean-Luc 
Picard. But I also was a collection of implants -- and my mind wasn't my own. 
The Borg have a collective intelligence. My thoughts became one with the 
Borg's."
   He turned toward Dawn. "And here's where I can identify with you, 
Commander: I lost sight of the line between being an organic being and a 
machine. Did the implants make me Locutus? Could I have been Locutus without 
them? And was I still -- deep down -- Jean-Luc Picard, which the Borg valued 
enough to assimilate?"
   He leaned back in his chair. "Years later, I still ask myself those 
questions ... nearly the same questions you ask yourself, Commander." He 
nodded. "So, yes, I think I can begin to understand what your life is like."
   Dawn considered it. "I believe you can, Captain."
   Eluza recalled something. " 'Assim ... ah ... late' ...?"
   "The Borg assimilate other races," Picard explained. "Absorb their 
uniqueness into Borg society in a pursuit of perfection. They leave nothing 
of the previous culture behind. Entire sectors have been cleared of their 
native species."
   "They sound like a considerable force to deal with," the Paranoid 
observed. "I think I'd like to meet them some day."
   Then Dawn noticed ...
   ... how Picard's expression went deadly serious ...
   ... lethally serious ...
   "No, Commander," the human replied with a tone that clearly spoke of 
finality, "you would not."
   Dawn got the message and nodded. "I see ..."
   Eluza started glancing around, as if trying to order her thoughts -- and 
not succeeding. "Soooo ...," she said tentatively, "what's the diff'rence 
...?"
   Picard raised an eyebrow. "The difference between what, Captain?"
   The Solnoid placed a finger on the desk. "The diff'rence," she explained, 
"between the ... Borg ..." She moved her finger down the desk. "... and your 
... federation ..."
   "In what way, Captain?"
   "You said the Borg asstimulated ..." She shook her head sharply. "... 
assimilated ... other species and cultures. Added them to their own ..."
   "That's correct."
   "So do you. I've seen it. People with blue skin, brown, green -- orange, 
for Mother's sake ..." Her hands tried to conjure images before her. "... 
Seen reptilians and ... felines ... that walk ... and wear your uniforms ... 
Something with three arms and three legs ... You ... asstim ... accrim ... 
you absorbed ... them ... like ya said the Borg did."  
   With a little effort, she looked Picard in the eye. "So ... what's the 
diff'rence ... between you ... and them ...?"
   Picard was silent for a moment. Finally, he sighed. "I would say ... first 
off ... that those species' cultures still exist. As unique creations. Being 
a member of the Federation is only one of many things that each world is. 
Each member of this crew is a Federation citizen -- and a member of their 
particular culture. As I said before, those cultures contribute to what the 
Federation is. And all those cultures asked to join the Federation because 
they thought it was best for their worlds." 
   He paused. "I know of no case, Captain Ortiz, of a species that asked to 
be assimilated into the Borg. And the Borg don't ask permission before they 
assimilate a species."
   Eluza blinked heavily. "Yeah ... All the species on this ship ... Mother 
... so strange ..." She sighed deeply. "I mean ... like ... where did they 
come from ...? I usta think ... Solnoids and Paranoids were the only races 
... Never saw others ..." She chuckled. "Hell ... never saw Solnoids of 
different colors ... like the Terrans here ..." 
   She thought. " 'Cept Pony ... She had dark skin ... Only Solnoid ... with 
dark skin ... I ever saw ..."
   Dawn shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Captain," he said, "Lieutenant 
Commander Wellington has made that same observation to me ..."
   Eluza's interest picked up. "Yeah ...?"
   "Yes ... I told her that there was a ... reason ... for the ... racial 
uniformity ... of the Solnoids. But I also told her she should ask your 
permission before I spoke further about it."
   The young woman shrugged nonchalantly. "Like ... ta hear it m'self ... Go 
'head."
   The Paranoid glanced at Picard. "Um ... perhaps ... another time, Captain 
Ortiz ... when you and your crew and I ... are in private ..." The Starfleet 
officer behind the desk made no reaction.
   "Hey, whenever ...," Eluza said.
   "The conference lounge is available, if you like," Picard ventured.
   Eluza nodded broadly. "Good ... good ... Thanks, Cap'n ... 'Preciate it 
..." Then she smiled and shook her head. "Ya know, Co'mander," she told Dawn, 
"... was a time ... couldn't imagine sittin' down ... to talk to a Paranoid 
... peaceable-like, I mean ..."
   To the extent that his shell allowed for such things, the commander seemed 
to smile. "First time for everything, Captain."
   "Yep ..." She studied him, intrigued. "Ya knooooow ... never even ... 
touched a Paranoid before ..."
   Dawn pondered that. He held out the hand he had been making into a fist. 
"As I said, Captain ..."
   The creeping smile returned to the woman's face. A moment later, her 
gloved hand raised slowly and clasped Dawn's. Even through the duty glove, 
she felt that the metal of the palm and fingers was cool.
   But what about ...?
   "Well ...," she said, her eyes wandering toward his, "when I said ... I 
never touched ... a Paranoid ..."
   Dawn wasn't certain of her meaning. "Captain?"
   A devilish grin grew on Eluza's face.
   "Ooze for me ...," she said quietly. 
   Dawn, wide-eyed, drew back in surprise. 
   She grasped his hand tighter and swayed it a little. "Inta my hand ..." 
Another great smile. 
   And a whisper: "C'mon ..."
   "Here? NOW?!" Dawn asked under his breath. He glanced at Picard. "In front 
of him?"
   "I can leave, if you prefer to be alone," the human noted without judgment.
   "Hmm ...," the woman purred, her eyes narrowing at the possibilities.
   The Paranoid commander chose his words carefully. "Captain Ortiz ... I'm 
... flattered, but ... this might not be the best time ... or place ... But 
if you feel the same way ... later ... I'd be only too happy ..."
   Eluza stared into his red eyes an instant longer, then her shoulders 
drooped. She sighed and let go of his hand, almost tossing it back into his 
lap. Then she crossed her arms and she looked away from him.
   She huffed in frustration. "You're no fun ..."
    
*******
   
   Actually, it tasted pretty good ...
    ... for something that looked like worms ...
   STRINGS!!
   STRINGS!!
   IT LOOKS LIKE STRINGS!!
   That's what Guinan said its name meant in its native language:
   Strings ...
   Just keep telling yourself that, Rabby ...
   It looks like strings ...
   And the sauce was good, too, the Solnoid thought. Red and warm and chunky 
and ... herbal. That was a nice touch.
   Guinan had shown her how to eat the dish: You put a spoon under the pile 
of strings, then stick a fork into the bowl of the spoon, entwining the 
strings in the tines. Then you twirl the fork to create a ball of strings.
   "How big a ball should I make?" Rabby had asked.
   "Something just smaller than your mouth," Guinan had suggested.
   That made sense to the Solnoid.
   At which, the redhead zipped a ball of strings around her fork so fast, 
the red sauce splashed on the table. On one cuff of her uniform. On her white 
duty gloves.
   Guinan picked up a napkin and wiped up the stray sauce. "You might want to 
twirl a little slower next time," she said, then smiled.
   "Sorry," Rabby replied sheepishly.
   The brown-skinned woman wiped Rabby's gloves. "Don't worry about these. 
Our laundry technology will get the stains out. No problem." She smirked. 
"The entire Alpha Quadrant wants the secret of our laundry technology ..."
   Rabby smirked back. "How much will they pay for it ...?"
   Guinan chuckled. "You know ... I like you ..."
   The younger woman felt warm comfort from the words. "Thank you ..."
   That had been the start of their extended conversation. But Guinan had 
since returned to the bar to serve customers. So Rabby continued to work on 
the hot dish and a cool side dish of sauced plant parts -- a "sal-id," Guinan 
had called it. The sauce on that was herbal, too.
   They must like herbs a lot, she thought.
   Another ball of strings disappeared into her mouth. She put her fork down 
and chewed.
   And looked around.
   And thought.
   So many species ...
   Not just those like the Solnoids, but a bewildering array of bipeds -- and 
even an orange-skinned, three-armed triped she had passed in a corridor.
   Reptilians. Feloids. Something that looked avian.
   But the Solnoid-types:
   Forget the males for a moment -- which was difficult for her. There were 
those with light blue skin. Pale green.
   Pink. 
   Dark brown. Light brown. 
   An even lighter shade close to yellow -- but it wasn't yellow. Not really. 
   Rabby swallowed the bite of food. And sighed.
   Mother in heaven ...
   Where did they all come from ...?
   The twin doors of Ten Forward parted. And Patty entered.
   Rabby smiled. Thank the Mother, she thought. A familiar face.
   A friend.
   But her expression, Rabby noticed ...
   Patty seemed to be scanning the room as she tentatively entered. As if she 
were suspicious of the area and its occupants.
   Especially the occupants: A trio of males headed toward the door -- toward 
Patty -- chatting and laughing as they approached. The dark-haired Solnoid 
froze as they came near.
   Rabby swore Patty's brown eyes looked like those of a game animal 
terrified stiff by a bright light.
   The males didn't seem to notice her, engrossed in their conversation. When 
they got about four meters from the door, Patty stepped aside suddenly and 
let them pass, watching them closely. They exited amid chatter and vanished 
as the doors closed behind them.
   Patty stared in their direction a moment longer. Then she turned slowly 
back toward the room, stopped upon seeing Rabby and walked over.
   "Hi ...," she said distractedly.
   "Hey," the redhead answered. "Have a seat."
   "Thanks ..." Patty sat down and propped her chin in one hand. Rabby 
twirled another ball of strings.
   "What's that?" Patty asked.
   Rabby paused to remember the name of the dish, as she was sure Guinan had 
pronounced it. Confidently, she replied:
   " 'Spra-gay-ti.' Actually, it's pretty good."
   Patty studied the dish. "Looks like worms."
   Suddenly, Rabby stopped twirling her fork. She closed her blue eyes and 
took a deep breath. "Strings," she said softly. "The word means 'strings.' 
They're thin strings of bread, sort of." She opened her eyes. "They're not 
..." Another deep breath. "... worms."
   Patty shrugged. "Well ... they look like it."
   Rabby sighed heavily and glanced at the dish. "Oh, Mother ...," she 
whispered. After a hard swallow, she looked back at her friend. "Let's change 
the subject ... How are you today?"
   "I'm all right. Just saw Doctor Beverly. By the way, she asked me to tell 
you to see her as soon as possible. Said it was important."
   "Thanks. What'd she have to say? You really all right? You seemed kinda 
jumpy when you walked in."
   Patty folded her arms on the table. "Yeah ... guess I am a little upset 
..."
   "Patty ... is everything OK?"
   "Physically, yes. But ... I learned a lot of things talking to the doctor 
..."
   "Like what?"
   "Well ... like what D-time really is."
   The redhead winced. "Patty!" she whispered harshly. "I'm trying to eat 
here!"
   Patty's eyes filled with intent. "Rabby, this is important ..."
   Rabby considered her friend's sincere expression, then looked down at her 
"spra-gay-ti."
   At the warm red sauce on top of it.
   She stared at it for a moment.
   Then quickly, she put down her cutlery and threw a napkin over the entire 
plate. She propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands.
   "OK," she finally said, her strained voice muffled, "I'm not ... hungry 
... anymore ..." She took yet another deep breath. "What about D-time ...?"
   Patty wasn't ignorant of how Rabby was feeling. But her friend needed to 
be told. "Well ... you know how we always thought D-time was just a cleansing 
process ...?"
   Rabby lowered her hands from her face and sighed. "Yeah ... Gets rid of 
fatigued blood."
   "It might do that. But that's not its primary purpose."
   "OK, I'll bite: What is its primary purpose?"
   Patty turned deeply serious again. "Rabby," she said softly, "it's part of 
our reproductive cycle."
   Rabby's eyes narrowed. "Our what?"
   "We can reproduce naturally. Without a birthing center. The doctor told 
me. D-time is part of the process."
   The redhead gazed at her comrade silently. A long quiet passed. "The 
doctor told you this?"
   Patty nodded.
   "Without a birthing center?"
   Another nod.
   With a frustrated huff, Rabby crossed her arms in front of her and leaned 
back in her chair. She looked away from a moment, then glanced back. "Patty 
...," she said at last, "just how in the HELL ... could we possibly ... 
reproduce ... without a birthing center?"
   The dark-haired Solnoid didn't answer immediately. She really didn't quite 
know how to describe it. Slowly, she turned from Rabby and scanned the other 
beings in the room.
   Until she saw ...
   ... a pair of males ...
   ... drinking and talking to a strange dark-skinned Solnoid behind the bar.
   Males ...
   ... and Solnoids ...
   She faced Rabby again.
   "Oh, Rabs," she said, almost consolingly, "you're not gonna believe this 
..."

*******

   The flashing red bars ended at double doors. 
   Etched on the doors' circular windows were frosty-white representations of 
the arrowhead symbol that Lufy had seen everywhere on this ship. Like the 
gold-arrowhead badges that the ship's crew wore.
   Must be Ten Forward -- whatever that was, the Attacker thought.
   Carefully, she peered through a window.
   And she saw ...
   ... a zoo ...
   The Attacker grunted.
   Like the rest of this ship ...
   ... full of species she couldn't begin to describe.
   All types. All colors.
   Solnoids. And males.
   The place looked like a dining hall. Knots of beings were seated together, 
chatting and drinking and eating. Along one wall, behind a counter of some 
kind, a Solnoid with dark-brown skin was pouring something into glasses for a 
pair of males.
   Everyone seemed contented, enjoying the company of others.
   Mother, Lufy thought ...
   Where did they all come from?
   She surveyed the rest of the area. Near the far end, she saw Solnoid 
uniforms, then recognized the two people wearing them:
   Swabby. Patty.
   Good, she thought -- I can clue in both of them at once. And if anyone 
bothers us, well ...
   ... I'll take care of  that.
   Gotta tell 'em ...
   ... about the dirty secret here ...
   Sex.
   She noticed that Patty seemed to be talking emphatically to Rabby. For her 
part, the redhead looked as if she didn't understand a word of what the ops 
officer was saying.
   Finally, Patty held up her left hand in a fist.  Not a tight one, but a 
loose one that left an open hole formed by her fingers and thumb.
   With her right hand, she pointed at herself, then at Rabby. Then at the 
hole.
   Then at her groin.
   Slowly, Rabby nodded.
   Then Patty scanned the area quickly, stopping when she saw the nearest 
male -- halfway across the room. She pointed discreetly at him and whispered 
to Rabby.
   The dark-haired woman balled up her right hand, leaving her index finger 
pointing out.
   Rabby studied it for an instant, nodding very slowly, very warily.
   And then ...
   ... Patty stuck the finger into the hole.
   Damn, Lufy thought ...
   ... Never saw Swabby's eyes get that wide before ...
   Patty kept talking, gently poking her finger  into the hole.
   Rabby shrank into her seat. Her mouth gaped slightly. And she began to 
look ...
   ... shocked ...
   ... and ill ...
   The redhead looked askance at her friend, then -- still wide-eyed -- shook 
her head ever so slightly.
   Patty, in reply, nodded firmly and confidently.
   And kept poking her finger into the hole.
   Rabby stared at it, saying nothing.
   Wait a minute, Lufy thought ...
   ... I've seen something like this ...
   ... recently ...
   Pictures ...
   ... diagrams ...
   ... video ...
   That doctor ...
   That bitch-doctor ...
   She showed me this ... something like it ...
   She gasped.
   Sex.
   Mother in heaven ...
   Patty knows about sex ...
   Lufy sighed.
   Oh, Bright Eyes ...
   At least you know the truth ...
   Patty had parted her hands again and kept talking to Rabby. Again, she 
pointed at herself and Rabby, then held out her left hand -- as if she were 
holding something round in it. 
   Rabby didn't react. Just watched.
   Then Patty indicated the male again. And her right hand started 
fluttering, mimicking almost ...
   ... a swimming motion ...
   Rabby blinked.
   The swimming hand moved to the rounded hand as Patty spoke. Finally, her 
hands clasped, and the fingers interlaced.
   And she held out the merged mass out for her friend to see.
   Rabby nodded once. Her expression suggested that she was just going with 
the flow at this point.
   Patty moved her hands down and placed them on her abdomen. As she 
explained, she moved them out, as if they were resting on her belly as it ...
   ... enlarged ...
   Rabby started to look woozy.
   Finally, still talking, Patty made a pushing motion toward her groin.
   Rabby's eyes flew open, and she covered her mouth with one hand. But 
suddenly, she looked confused. She shook her head sharply and held the hand 
out in an open fist like the one Patty had formed. She pointed at it 
strenuously and shook it. She spoke firmly, then used her free hand's thumb 
and index finger to indicate the size of the hole. 
   She shook her head defiantly.
   Lufy could see Patty sigh.
   The dark-haired woman gently reached over and inserted several fingers 
into the hole. After a moment's explanation, her fingers spread out. 
   And the hole in Rabby's hand expanded madly wide.
   The redhead's face fell. It became a grimace of pain. Rabby cringed, then 
closed her eyes tightly and  placed her hands on her groin.
   Even from outside the doors, Lufy knew what Rabby said then:
   "OUCH!!"
   The Attacker chuckled.
   Well, the truth hurts, Swabby ...
   But she was glad that her friend knew what the males could do to her. She 
needed to know.
   So she could defend herself ...
   And I'll protect you, Swabby, Lufy thought. I promise.
   So ...
   I know about sex. Patty knows. Rabby knows.
   Gotta go in now. Gotta talk to them about how to tell the captain.
   To warn her.
   So we can defend ourselves ...
   ... in this trap ...
   Then Lufy started.
   What a minute: What about Catty?
   An instant later, she shrugged. Catty was a machine, after all.
   She can't be subjected to "sex" ...
   'Course she can't ...
   The Attacker took a deep breath and braced herself to enter the room. 
   But before she could ...
   Someone touched her.
   She looked down sharply and saw a light blue hand lying gently on her 
right forearm.
   Instantly, she turned toward its owner: a slightly rotund blue-skinned 
male with a vertical crease running down the middle of his face. He had no 
hair on his head and was wearing the uniform of the ship's crew.
   He was touching Lufy ...
   ... and to her terror ...
   ... to her deep, deadly horror ...
   ... he was smiling at her ...

*******

   Eluza Ortiz 2106 heard the bulkhead door slam shut behind her as she 
crossed the dimly lit deck and leaned against the railing. It was a clear, 
beautiful night, full of stars. 
   She always liked looking at the stars.
   But right now, all she cared about was the air. Fresh air. Sweet, clean 
air.
   Without the stink of seafood.
   She breathed deeply.
   It felt ...
   ... good ...
   She did it again.
   Oh, yes, she thought ...
   So sweet ...
   So sweet ...
   She looked down and watched the starlight dapple on the water. The ship's 
moving fast, she noted. Probably be at the next fishing bed by morning.
   She closed her eyes.
   Oh, Mother ...
   Another day of harvesting. Another day of cleaning the catch.
   Another day of seafood ...
   Damn ...
   I hate seafood.
   I hate the fish and hexapods and crustoids. I hate the guts I carve away. 
I hate the slime and blood. I hate the filth and stink.
   I hate this ship ...
   But ... I love the sea ...
   Especially on a clear, warm, sunny day, when we're sailing to a new 
fishing bed, and the breeze kisses you freshly on the cheeks, and in your off 
hours, you lie on a cabin roof with your eyes closed and your tunic open, 
soaking up the liquid warmth of the sun.
   And for a moment, you're glad you're alive ...
   She looked back up at the stars.
   And I love the stars ...
   I'll be there soon, she thought ...
   Then she shivered. 
   Death is in the stars, she remembered. The war was in the stars.
   Funny, Eluza thought: You can't see it from here. All the death and 
destruction. The thousands slaughtered in the flash of an instant.
   From Marsus, all you saw was the beauty of stars.
   Not the oceans of blood flowing among them.
   She sighed. My blood might be out there soon, she thought.
   My draft notice. 
   Came through electronically yesterday, with those of the other eligibles. 
You usually got it within a week of your 14th year. Nobody's had ever been 
late, as far back as anyone could remember. Not even Alyz's.
   Alyz ...
   She hadn't thought of Alyz in a long time. A blonde and a dreamer. Could 
tell a good story.
   And she didn't support the war. Thought it was a bloody waste. Argued 
about all the talent and energy and resources thrown away on it. Said that if 
all that went toward reaching peace with the Paranoids, the Solnoids would 
some day prosper beyond their wildest dreams.
   Alyz had made it clear she would refuse her draft notice. Eluza Ortiz 2106 
couldn't believe it. "The Central Guard," Eluza had whispered. "What about 
the Central Guard?"
   Alyz shrugged. "They can do whatever they want with me. I won't go. If 
they kill me, I'll be just as dead as if I went to the war. But I won't go."
   Eluza shifted uncomfortably. "Couldn't you ... hide ... or something?"
   Alyz regarded her with what Eluza thought was resignation. But she wasn't 
sure. "You ever hear of anyone," Alyz replied, "who successfully hid from the 
Central Guard? Ever?"
   Her young pink-haired friend thought, then looked down sadly. 
   "No ...," Eluza admitted softly.
   The next day, at the scheduled port of call, the recent eligibles 
disembarked. The usual Navy induction personnel were there.
   So was the Central Guard. 
   Eluza had seen the two helmeted, caped figures from the ship. Silently, 
they watched the eligibles present their draft-notice printouts to a Navy 
official.
   Eventually, a certain blonde was at the front of the line. The induction 
official held out a hand for the notice.
   The blonde said something, then shook her head.
   The official looked surprised and not quite sure what to do. She spoke to 
the blonde again.
   And the blonde shook her head again.
   At that, the Central Guardswomen glanced at each other. One spoke to the 
blonde.
   And again, the blonde shook her head.
   The Guardswomen looked at each other once more, then drew their weapons. 
One walked up to the blonde and took her strongly by an arm. With a gesture 
with her weapon, she indicated a direction for the blonde.
   The blonde didn't move for a moment, then sighed heavily. Without further 
expression, she let the Guardswoman lead her away. The other Guardswoman 
followed for backup.
   Much later, Eluza Ortiz 2106 had been told that Alyz was dead. 
   The official explanation was she had been killed in an accident on shore. 
She had fallen down a hole and died, they said.
   Probably pushed in by the Central Guard, Eluza thought grimly. 
   But she didn't tell anyone that.
   So Alyz was dead. Just as dead as she would have been in the war in the 
stars. Just like she said.
   On the dimly lit deck, Eluza looked back at the stars.
   Mother, she thought ...
   ... I don't want to die out among the stars ...
   I don't want to die ...
   She looked back at the door to the processing hold.
   But, Mother, she pleaded ...
   Oh, Mother ...
   ... I hate seafood ... 
   She sighed deeply and turned back to the sea and stars.
   Warm. Somehow, the night had gotten warm.
   That surprised her. It wasn't the warm season.
   Or was it? She wasn't sure. She realized that she didn't know exactly when 
this night was. But it was warm. And getting warmer.
   So warm that her tunic was stifling her. She started unbuttoning, opening 
it to just below her bust. With one hand, she started absentmindedly flapping 
one of the tunic halves to stir the air. Its liquid coolness swept over the 
tops of her breasts and down her cleavage.
   She closed her purple eyes and smiled. Oh, that's better, she thought ...
   Much better ...
   But even in her private darkness, she could feel herself getting still 
warmer. It was so strange.
   "Curiouser and curiouser ...," as Alyz had been known to say ...
   "Captain?"
   Someone's calling the captain, Eluza Ortiz 2106 observed plainly. Good 
luck: She's probably asleep at this hour.
   "Captain?" Now it was a different voice -- deeper and rumbling. And closer.
   Who could want to talk to the captain so much? she thought.
   Then something touched her right arm.
   "Captain!"
   Shocked at the touch, Eluza spun around to face the voice.
   And found herself looking at a Paranoid commander.
   For an instant, she was too stunned, too terrified, to move or speak. She 
just studied his oversized red eyes. To the extent that they allowed for such 
things, they seemed deeply concerned.
   Oh, good Mother above, she thought ...
   ... they're here! On Marsus!
   They're here!
   We will all die, she thought simply.
   Then she noticed ...
   He was sitting in some sort of an office, with his metal hand lying gently 
on her right forearm.
   She looked around: She and the Paranoid were sitting across a desk from a 
male Solnoid with no hair on his head. The male looked genuinely concerned, 
too.
   Wait a minute, Eluza thought ...
   How can I know that's a male? I'm only 14 ...
   Mission 21 isn't for years yet ...
   The male spoke. "Captain Ortiz?"
   Slowly, Eluza felt the present fill her mind.
   She was the captain.
   And so was the male. The captain of a "starship."
   And the Paranoid was ... Commander Dawn ...
   She blinked. When her eyes half caught up with her, she realized that her 
left hand was swaying back and forth, almost by itself.
   She looked down.
   In her left hand was a half of her uniform's tunic. The garment was 
unbuttoned to just below her bust. The inner curves of her undertop's cups 
were visible. As the tunic half flapped, cool air swept over the tops of her 
breasts and down her cleavage.
   It  felt ...
   ... good ...
   Eluza fought for focus. "Izzit me ...," she finally said distractedly, 
looking at no one, "or izzit gettin' warm in here ...?"
   Jean-Luc Picard folded his hands on his desk and leaned forward. 
"Captain," he said quietly and caringly, "are you sure you're feeling all 
right?"
   
*******

   Kantok soup.
   With fresh leaves.
   Umm ...
   Just like Mother used to make ...
   Well, almost, Mot thought. The Enterprise replicators were very 
sophisticated. But they missed the little idiosyncrasies that made Mother's 
soup ...
   ... well, hers.
   Still, the soup on the ship was very good.
   It just wasn't Mother's.
   But it would do for lunch, the barber thought. Enough to keep me going for 
those three appointments -- let alone the walk-ins -- this afternoon. Enough 
until dinner and the gammoncard match tonight.
   Mot sighed.
   It's not easy being me, he thought. 
   What with the great responsibility of keeping the crew's hair looking 
good. You never know when you'll be needed for a trim or style. You're always 
on call.
   Like the other senior officers.
   I am the senior barber on the Enterprise, aren't I?
   Of course, the Bolian agreed with himself. 
   Hair was important.
   Not that he knew personally, anymore, of course. He had been bald for 
years. But that relieved him of his own worries about his appearance. He 
could dedicate his energy toward serving others.
   Just like the only other bald senior officer on the ship.
   The one who sat in the center seat on the bridge.
   Yes, indeed, Mot thought, Captain Picard and I have a lot in common.
   But sometimes, I just don't know how he handles the pressure ...
   Of course, that's what barbers -- and, he conceded, bartenders; he liked 
Guinan very much -- are for. To listen. And offer some comfort and maybe a 
little help.
   Oh, yes ... 
   A great responsibility.
   He turned the last corner before Ten Forward.
   A female was standing in front of one of the twin doors. Peering intently 
through one of the windows. Mot didn't recognize the red, white and black 
uniform she wore. 
   Maybe she was one of those alien women the ship had rescued from that 
wreck, he thought. All his customers were talking about them. 
   Especially about the one who had shown up topless in front of the captain. 
   They couldn't stop chatting about her ...
   But this one now ...
   Her hair ...
   Her hair ...
   Such a lovely golden blond ...
   A little ruffled and wild in the back, he noted professionally. But very 
flattering on her.
   He could watch hair like hers all day ...
   But not right now: Kantok soup was waiting. And Mot had his priorities.
   So he approached her and gently laid his light blue right hand on her 
right forearm.
   And smiled.
   She whipped around suddenly.
   Mot recalled -- later -- that ...
   ... well, yes ...
   ... she did have a look of terror ...
   ... and, yes, she did have a look of deep, deadly horror.
   But what he remembered most clearly ...
   ... was her shock of green hair in front.
   How marvelous, he had thought.
   Such a captivating color ...
   Oh ...
   ... so much hair ...
   ... so little time ...
   But the soup ...
   "Excuse me," he thus said kindly, "may I get by?"
   Which was the last thing he remembered.
   That ...
   ... and the green hair.
   Before he started screaming.

*******

   "I'm ... I'm ... I'm ... awright ... Cap'n ...," Eluza assured the 
starship commander. 
   Picard, not unkindly, wasn't convinced. But even that didn't stop the door 
chime in the ready room from chirping.
   At which, Eluza visibly started. Her left hand still fanned half of her 
open tunic slowly. And her head started to bob around gently, searching the 
room.
   She swore she just heard a bird ...
   For his part, Dawn quietly watched her left hand move with a mind of its 
own.
   "Come!" Picard called.
   The door parted, and Dr. Crusher walked in, holding a gray garment in one 
hand. "Sorry to interrupt, Captain," she said.
   "Not at all, Doctor," Picard replied, gesturing for her to approach. "I 
was thinking of ending this interview shortly."
   As Crusher passed to Eluza's left, she paused for a moment to watch the 
Solnoid fan herself. Eluza noticed the other woman's puzzled expression. The 
young captain's left hand stopped with her tunic half open, and she did her 
best to focus her eyes on Crusher. 
   It registered on her - barely - that for some reason, doing that wasn't 
easy.
   "Hi ...," Eluza said blankly.
   Crusher nodded. "Captain ...," she said, then looked at Dawn. "Commander 
..." After the Paranoid nodded silently, the doctor glanced back at Eluza.
   And again, she seemed puzzled.
   Eluza squinted slightly. Damn, she thought ...
   Why in the hell is she staring at my chest like that ...?
   As if she had heard the Solnoid's thought, Crusher blinked and turned 
toward Picard, holding out the garment. "I'm returning your jacket, Captain," 
she said, "as a favor to our guest Lufy. She reported to Sickbay, as 
ordered." She smiled slyly. "I'm getting good at my 'birds-and-the-bees' 
lecture lately. I haven't had this much fun since Wesley was four and he 
asked me where he came from ..."
   To the extent that his shell allowed for such things, Dawn looked lost. " 
'Birds and the bees'?"
   "A long story, Commander," Crusher answered. "Some other time."
   The starship captain took the jacket and nodded. "Very good. How did your 
talk with her go?"
   The doctor's expression dropped somewhat. "Well ... I was able to discuss 
the reason you sent her to Sickbay, but she seemed a little ... upset ... at 
the end. I don't know why."
   Eluza grunted loudly, which surprised everyone else in the room. A broad 
smile blossomed on her face, she closed her eyes, shook her head slowly and 
chuckled. "Lufy ...," she said. "She's ... always upset ... 'bout ... 
somethin' ..."
   Crusher studied the Solnoid for a moment. "Captain," she finally said, "if 
I may ask ... are you feeling all right ...?"
   Eluza huffed impatiently and finally dropped her left hand. Her tunic 
stayed open. "Why the hell," she said with an annoyed tone, "is everybody 
askin' me that ...?"
   "Chateau Picard," the other captain noted quietly to the doctor.
   Crusher's eyes widened. She turned toward Picard more, as if to use her 
body to shield her comments from the two aliens. "Didn't you warn them about 
alcohol ...?" she whispered pointedly.
   Picard sighed. "I tried, Beverly ..." 
   "What's 'alka-hall'?" Dawn asked.
   "A component of the wine I offered you both," Picard noted. "If ingested 
too quickly or in excessive amounts, it can intoxicate some humanoid life 
forms."
   " 'Humanoid'?" the Paranoid repeated.
   "Bipedal sentients like us and Captain Ortiz," the doctor explained. Then 
she pulled a medical tricorder from a pocket of her lab coat and scanned 
Eluza. A moment later, she closed the device and sighed. "And speaking of the 
captain ... she's borderline intoxicated."
   Eluza blinked dully. "Wha' ...?"
   "For the record," Picard ventured, "she had a glass and a quarter of 
burgundy, Doctor."
   "Her alcohol  tolerance must be very low," Crusher suggested, "if her 
species had any experience with it at all."
   Eluza snapped up straight in her chair. "STOP TALKIN' 'BOUT ME LIKE I'M 
NOT HERE!!"
   Then - slowly -- she closed her eyes, bent over, buried her face in her 
hands and groaned. 
   Her groans were the only sounds in the ready room for several moments. 
Finally, Picard leaned forward. "Captain Ortiz," he said quietly, "I would 
like for you to go with Doctor Crusher right now to ..."
   He never finished.
   "Medical emergency outside Ten Forward!! Med team to Ten Forward 
immediately! Security team to Ten Forward immediately!"
   Guinan's voice shocked all but Eluza. Crusher instantly tapped her 
communicator. "Crusher to Guinan. What's the emergency?"
   The bartender's harried voice returned. "Doctor, one of our guests just 
broke Mr. Mot's arm outside Ten Forward! I think it's the woman called Lufy!"
   Eluza, her face still in her hands, gasped deeply -- startling the others. 
She lifted her head slowly. "Thaaaat ... blond ... bitch ...," she whispered 
harshly. "Thaaaat ... blond ..." She spat out the last word. "BITCH!!"
   Clumsily, she arose from her chair. Picard looked into her purple eyes - 
and realized that for the first time since he had met the Solnoid commander, 
he had never seen them flash with murderous rage, as they did now.
   Eluza steadily herself with the chair, then turned toward the door. "Kick 
her asssss ...," she hissed to no one. Warily, she headed for the exit. "I'm 
... gonna kick ... her damned ... Attacker's ass ..."
   "Captain Ortiz!" Picard called. 
   He was too late. The door opened at that moment, and Eluza partly walked, 
partly stumbled, partly jogged through and was gone. 
   Silence. 
   At last, Dawn turned to the two humans. "I really think ...," he said, 
somewhat sheepishly, "that someone should ... follow her ..."
   Picard was already standing up. He tapped his communicator. "Picard to 
Guinan. Doctor Crusher and I are on our way."
   On the bridge, Riker was waiting for the three as they left the ready 
room. He and the rest of the bridge crew appeared highly confused.
   "You have the con, Number One," Picard noted as the others headed for a 
turbolift.
   The second in commander nodded. "Is everything all right, sir? Captain 
Ortiz just left the bridge. She seemed ... agitated ..."
   "We think her judgment might be impaired. Alert Security. She might be 
headed for Ten Forward." 
   "Aye, sir." 
   And as the turbolift doors closed on the three,  Riker allowed himself a 
quick thought.
   "Impaired" ...?
   Well ...
   That would explain a few things ...
   ... like the pink-haired young woman who just recently headed for a 
turbolift ...
   ... with something amiss about her uniform ... 
   ... and muttering something about ...
   ... "kick her ass" ...

*******

   She felt powerful.
   Invincible.
   And warm, again.
   Eluza headed down a corridor, its flashing red bars making soft blurs at 
opposite edges of her vision. She felt as if she were gliding. There was 
little sense of her body moving; rather, it was as if she were standing still 
and reality moved quickly past her on its own.
   I wonder, she thought fuzzily ...
   ... if I actually can crush Lufy's throat with my bare hands ...
   Around a corner, she more or less saw people up ahead, and she heard 
someone moaning in pain. There were two knots of people in the corridor. 
Beyond them, crowded at open double doors, were others gaping at the activity 
outside.
   In one group, several blue-coated people were kneeling and huddling around 
a rotund male. Eluza noted that he had blue skin, a vertical crease on his 
face and no hair on his head. And for some reason, none of that seemed odd to 
her at the moment. As the male moaned, the bluecoats were focusing their 
attention and devices on his right arm, which seemed to lie at an unnatural 
angle to his body.
   And the other group ...
   The others ...
   Lufy.
   Lufy ...
   She was standing with her back to a bulkhead, her face a bizarre medley of 
 anger and fear. Her eyes sparked with what Eluza knew could only be an 
Attacker's rage.
   But at what? Eluza wondered.
   A party of crew members had weapons drawn. They stood in front of Lufy, 
blocking her path. They  watched her intently. Behind them, Rabby and Patty 
were talking to her. It seemed they were desperately trying to calm her down.
   And behind them ...
   A dark-skinned Solnoid in a long burgundy robe and hat of some sort.
   She watched Lufy intently, never taking her eyes off the Attacker. In her 
arms, she cradled a weapon. A large weapon that looked as if you simply did 
not argue with it.
   Eluza stopped and took a deep breath.
   "LUFY!!!"
   Everyone in the corridor started. One of the armed party - a bearded male 
with a ridged forehead and a metal sash across his uniform, and dimly, Eluza 
recalled that his name was Worf - spun around instantly. He leveled his 
weapon at the Solnoid commander.
   Eluza didn't care. She was beyond fear. She strode forcefully toward the 
group with Lufy, ignoring the weapon, the Klingon and the danger. She stopped 
at the security line. 
   The others were still shocked by her entrance. And something else drew 
their attention to the young woman with the dark-pink hair and fierce 
expression -- the woman with the trim midriff and shapely full breasts in a 
support garment of some sort.
   They knew that.
   Because the left half of her tunic was open.
   But Eluza didn't see their distraction.
   She didn't see anything but Lufy. 
   Her brown eyes, her blond-and-green hair ...
   ... and her long, lovely, smooth, supple neck ...
   ...that Eluza was going to snap with her bare hands ...
   "Luuufy ...," she slurred menacingly, "you got some 'splainin' to do ..."

TO BE CONTINUED