21 – ‘Pozach Rex’

Star Trek: Cayuga

21 – ‘Pozach Rex’

By Jack Elmlinger

Jeanne Pozach stepped through the Galaxy. 

For a moment, it swirled around her with stars of yellow and white floating like stellar dust mites. Tiny purple nebula parting across like mist. Then someone cleared their throat and she regretfully returned her attention to the command staffs gathered together inside the holographic illusion. 

“This is a graphic representation of the data found in the cave attached to the Quernus installation,” said T’Priss, the Juneau’s Vulcan science officer. 

“I call it the Alzok room,” Aimee Maguire said with false bravado. She had only been released from Sickbay aboard the Cayuga, a few days ago. 

T’Priss ignored the comment. “Taking stellar drift into account, it would seem that this is an atlas of our Galaxy as it appeared, two hundred thousand years ago.” She tapped at her PADD and the map reacted as if a box of paints had been thrown over it. “It is lacking all but the most basic of astronomical detail. Otherwise, it would appear to be a political map.” 

Brandon Hobbes took the PADD from her. “In our two weeks of study, we have been able to make a few determinations.” Every color disappeared except for the green. “Each color denotes the boundaries of a different political entity and the green, which covers nearly the entire galaxy, was based in the star system that we now know to be Iconia.” 

“Demons of Air and Darkness,” Captain M’Roaki breathed reverently. “The Iconian Empire.” 

“We’ve been able to identify a few of the others,” T’Priss said, continuing with the briefing. “Inside of what is now known as Federation space, it seems that there had been an affiliation based on Talos IV and in the Gamma Quadrant. A culture that we believe could have been early Verathan.” 

“How about something a little closer to us?,” Sean Pasko asked her from his spot where he was leaning against the holodeck’s grid-marked walls. 

T’Priss continued with her presentation, ignoring the pilot’s request. “At the moment, we are in the region which had been controlled by the amber affiliation.” The map’s colors altered accordingly. “The amber affiliation is unique by the way that it had seven capitals and one of them appears to once have been Quernus. From this information, we conclude that it is a coalition of powers. It extends out past Trill in a spinward direction and well into unknown space. 

Tom Riker approached the map. “When the Borg found us here,” he said, pointing at a section of the holographic map,” they said that they were investigating the Demedra outpost.” 

“It is reasonable to assume that ‘Demedra’ was the title of the coalition.” 

“This is an incredible opportunity,” M’Roaki said. “Captain Pozach, I’d like to take the Juneau ahead to investigate the first few of these worlds. With our runabout, we should be able to cover extra ground. Meanwhile, the Cayuga can stay behind and handle the chores with the locals.” 

Pozach nodded slightly in agreement. “That makes sense.” 

Pasko’s eyes lit up with an idea. “You know, if you’re going out on a runabout mission, you’ll need a top-rate pilot,” he said, pushing himself away from the wall. “With Captain Pozach’s permission, I would be happy to do it.” 

M’Roaki frowned. “We have plenty of good pilots aboard the Juneau.” 

“Good ones, sure.” 

“Fine. I’d rather keep my officers aboard.” The Caitian looked over at her counterpart. “Pozach?” 

Pozach was surprised by Pasko’s insistence. However, she reasoned that a year of simple supply missions must have been boring for him. “As long as we can have you back,” she said affectionately.

* * * * * * * * * * * *

With all the grace of a coordinated panic seizure, Alice Polcheny burst into Sean’s quarters. “You’re leaving?!,” she cried at him. 

Sean and Aimee looked up from their packing. “I’m sorry that it’s so sudden. It was a spur of the moment thing.” 

“Do you want the cross?,” Aimee asked him, glancing up between the crucifix on the wall and the space that was left over in his duffel bag. 

“But you’ll be gone for months!,” Alice said, wrapping her arms around him. 

“It’s a few weeks, at the moment,” he said, disentangling himself from her. “I’ll keep that here.” He hefted the bag over his shoulder and looked back at Alice. “Would you like to walk me to the transporter room?” She threw herself onto the bed, pouting. With a sigh, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “All right, I’ll see you in a few weeks. I love you.” 

Aimee watched the door close behind him and she sat down on the bed beside the younger woman. “Alice,” she said, nudging her. “Come on, it’s not that bad. He’ll be back.” Alice remained stonily silent as the blonde woman continued,” Look, the Cayuga’s docked at the old Cardassian space station in orbit of Anura while Jeanne does her diplomatic thing.” 

“So?,” a small voice asked her. 

“It’s a space station on the frontier where life is hard and vices are abundant.” Aimee nodded. “They’ll have a bar there.” 

Alice looked up at her. “What do we do there?” 

Aimee stared back at her blankly before she realized that she wasn’t joking. “We get ourselves dressed up and look pretty. Then the other people will say,’ Wow, they look pretty.’”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun.” The redhead sat up and Aimee smiled at her encouragingly.

A quick turbolift ride deposited them on Deck Seven a short walk from Alice’s quarters. “We’re going to the bar,” she announced to her roommate, Tajin. The Horrusi glanced up, showing perfunctory interest before she returned to her reading. 

“I don’t go out to bars very often,” Alice continued to Aimee’s lack of surprise,” so I’m not sure what to wear.” 

Aimee opened the closet. “You want something eye-catching that..” She stared at all of the dressing hung up in the closet before her. “Sun dresses? All you own is sun dresses?” 

“I like the orange one.” 

Rubbing her forehead, she stepped back from the closet. “Okay, I’m going to go get dressed. You… pick out a good headband or something.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“The Anuran government is a constitutional monarchy,” Captain Pozach muttered to herself. “Their monarch is referred to as ‘Glorious’” She was sitting on one of the benches in the back of the Garibaldi, studying the PADD on her lap. First Contact with the Anurans was supposed to be Captain M’Roaki’s mission but with her and the Juneau gallivanting after the ancient Demedra, she had to fill in for him. 

She looked ahead towards the cockpit at Ntannu who was flying the shuttle over the clouds. “Did you know that the Anurans communicate through a sophisticated pheromone system? No vocal language at all.” 

He spent a moment absorbed in his control panel before he simply said,” No.” 

Pozach frowned at his flat tone. “Is there something wrong?” 

“The Demedra coalition, Captain. I don’t think that we should be chasing after them.” 

Slowly, she moved her PADD onto the bench beside her. “We’re explorers, Ntannu, and sometimes that’s dangerous business.” 

“Tell that to Novack.” The Ktarian shook his head. “The Alzok killed him with his mind. See, I believe in Starfleet as an exploration corps. I really do. I also believe that there are things out there that shouldn’t be angered. The Alzok and anything that’s associated with it was some of those things that we shouldn’t anger.” 

“What… What did it show you?” 

Silence stretched out between them until he said,” We’re coming up on the landing coordinates.” 

The shuttlecraft nestled down gently between two towering arches that were made out of pearly stone. “Glorious,” Pozach repeated, nervously fidgeting with the pheromone device attached to her belt. The rear hatch dropped open and she preceded Ntannu down the ramp, leading him past several low structures that were carved out of the same pinkish stone. 

“What aren’t they here to greet us?,” the Security Chief asked her with surprise and concern mixing together in his voice. The captain noticed that his hand strayed to where his hand phaser would have been holstered. 

A small purple head peeked up over one of the structures, staring down upon them with unblinking silver-hued eyes. Pozach turned towards the creature and it darted back down. A second later, it timidly stepped out from behind a wall, its small nose sniffing at them. 

She knelt down to eye level with the humanoids. “Hello,” she said, smelling as her words were translated into lilac and rain. The little creature turned around and ran a few steps, pausing so it could motion for them to follow it. It darted ahead of them, waiting for them just outside a copse of trees. 

Pozach and Ntannu stopped at a respectable distance from the trees. She opened up her arms and said warmly,” I’m Captain Jeanne Pozach of the Cayuga, representing the United Federation of Planets.” The scent of her words were like wet grass and soap. 

There was a lot of rustling through the tree with more of the silver-eyed creatures shifting from branch to branch. The ground underneath the trees rolled around the centermost one. Roots erupted from the rich soil, supporting the tree as it moved forward. 

A collection of branches descended, each of them possessing a sensory organ. A stink arose and the translator said,” Fair tidings, Captain Jeanne Pozach of the Federation.” The tree stood seven feet tall from root to lavender leaf, a pungent scent wafting down from its leaves. “I am Skt. The Glorious has asked that I guide you to it.” 

“Thank you,” Pozach said, following as the Anuran rotated on its roots and glided away. Ntannu fell into step behind her, keeping a careful eye on the other Anurans and the purple primates that trailed after them. The landscape of this world struck Jeanne as familiar and similar to Intooine, which had an unnatural quiet and peace to it. Rolling hills were broken up by small shelters and massive archways. Lush green and violet grasses carpeted the ground and her boots sank into the rich, moist earth. 

Pozach could see the Glorious well before they reached it. Its branches waved gently, almost thirty feet above the ground, and it had planted itself at the center of a half-circle of arches. Many small Anurans surrounded it. The mixture of scents overpowered the translator, producing a dull tone. 

The smells faced away from the air and a new smell emerged from the Glorious. “Jeanne Pozach,” it said,” I am grateful that you chose to visit us.” 

“My pleasure, Glorious.” The Glorious was too large to consider in all of its entirety and she had to focus on one small part of it at a time. “With me is my comrade, Lieutenant Ntannu.” 

“Greetings to you as well, Lieutenant Ntannu.” The Glorious’ eyestalks turned towards the Anuran surrounding it. “I will order the Captain our proposal alone if you please.” The entire grove rose as one entity and glided away from the arches. Fascinated by them, the Cayuga’s captain watched them until the Glorious’ scent returned her attention to it. “I apologize for my peoples’ attitude. They are not accustomed to privacy or … hasty activity.” 

Pozach glanced after the departing beings, wondering what she had missed. “No offense taken.” 

“Word of your Federation has spread far and wide across the Sea of Stars. Its people are said to be made up of many noble beings.” 

“I’m delighted that news of our good works has reached this far.” 

“Many seasons ago, we were visited by a race that called themselves ‘Cardassians’. They cared not for us and we cared not for them but our relations with them were civil. They constructed the space station in the skies above our world but they abandoned it some time ago.” The Glorious shifted its branches, altering the patterns of light and dark upon its leaves. “That space station left us as a power among our neighboring planets but it is a power that we do not understand. It is my wish that Anura join your Federation of Planets, using it as a model or a guide.” 

Although she had already anticipated the question being asked of her, Pozach felt a thrill of exhalation as the words emerged from her translator. “It’s not an immediate process,” she cautioned it, hiding her glee. “There are diplomatic and cultural exchanges. We also want to be certain that the Anurans feel that this is the best move for them as a race.” 

A scent of agreement descended from the Glorious. “Of course, Captain, and then we shall begin the coronation process as soon as the full Grove can be convened.” 

“Of course,” Pozach repeated happily in agreement before the meaning of the word ‘coronation’ pierced her consciousness. “Wait. What?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“So, where was the Juneau during the war?” 

Sean Pasko’s feet were perched up on the edge of the table in the runabout’s small lounge. Survek, Sayvok, and Jacqueline Yeager glanced up from their diversions. 

“I graduated after the war,” said Yeager. 

“The Juneau served as a monitoring and reconnaissance vessel in the Third Fleet,” Survek said, still strumming at his lyre. 

“The Third Fleet? So you folks were around for Operations: Return?” Survek nodded and Pasko continued the conversation. “I was there aboard the Venture. I thought that it was insane when Captain Sisko gave the order to charge the Dominion lines, but I fought. When the battle was done, it was the Jem’hadar running and not us for once.” 

“Starfleet was victorious,” Survek agreed with him.

“How long until planetfall?,” Yeager asked, glancing out at the stars streaking past their small vessel. 

“Eight or nine hours, at least.” 

“Perhaps it would be wise to use this time to rest,” Survek suggested. 

Sayvok watched as Pasko and Yeager left the lounge. Survek remained behind to watch his fellow Vulcan.

“I wish to speak with you, regarding a matter of logic, Commander,” Sayvok said and when the older Vulcan nodded back at him, he continued,” I find that my body makes demands of me that are illogical.” 

“Please elaborate.” 

“My sexual attraction cues are misplaced. When I first entered pon farr, I… lusted not after my selected mate, but after a male. Since then, there has been no change.” He shifted in his seat, very nearly allowing him to have a facial expression. “If sexual activity does not result in procreation, then it has no purpose. Therefore, it is illogical.” 

“Logic is a tool, Sayvok, and a method of analyzing and explaining the world around us. When it is used to defend an outdated paradigm, then it is wasted.” 

“I do not understand.” 

“Consider plomeek soup. There are chefs who spend their lifetimes, perfecting the flavor.” 

“You relate my sexual preference to soup?” 

“What use is there in perfecting soup? Or in the statues at the foothills of Mount Seleya?” Sayvok frowned his frustration but Survek continued with his explanation. “These things serve no ‘logical’ purpose but then, love never does.” 

“I believe I see,” Sayvok said, rising up from his seat. “I have much to meditate on.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Look’t her,” Sam Dixon slurred his words. “Jus’ look’t her. Trampin’ it up in th’ bar.” He looked around the table with a glassy look in his eyes. “I think she’s hittin’ on Polcheny.” 

Across the darkened, alcohol-soaked table, Tom Riker and Brandon Hobbes traded knowing glances over Roslyn Collier’s head. “Polcheny is the one person the Aimee won’t touch,” Aaron Connelly said with a scowl. “Not while she’s going out with Pasko.” 

Dixon pondered that statement slowly. “Yeah,” he said finally,” I know that. S’ who’s next?” 

Riker sighed at the familiar scene. “What you have to keep in mind, Dixon, about women like Aimee,” he began to say as he refilled the security officer’s drink,” is that they’re capricious. It’s not about you. It’s about her.” 

“I was going to marry her.” 

“That anathema to her, Sam,” the First Officer said with false sympathy, pushing the drink across the table. 

Collier touched Dixon’s hand lightly, pulling his attention to her. “She’s just not a good person to trust a heart with. First, Aaron, then the Captain, and now you…” 

Hobbes stifled a chuckle at the expression that clouded Riker’s face as he stared down at Collier’s hand. “Women can be trouble if you let them,” he said, reclaiming her. “Never forget that, Sam.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Aimee Maguire was dressed to kill. 

Her little black dress clung to her body in all of the right places, and her hair was down for once, free of any hair pins or braids. She would have dressed like this on her own but Alice Polcheny’s dropped jaw had a way to make it fun that has been in a while. 

Every eye in the bar was on her and she was loving it. 

She led Alice to the bar. “Everyone’s staring at us,” the younger woman whispered to her, waving tentatively to her shipmates through the gloom that was unique to Cardassian-made establishments. 

“Of course, they are. That’s a very becoming print that you’re wearing,” Aimee replied. “Order something and make yourself comfortable.” 

An alien sitting at the bar turned his head and grinned at Aimee. The short cilia that covered his skin shifted as he moved. “Hey, baby,” he said, tugging at the collar of his vacuum suit,” I’m a spaceman.” 

“Spiffy.” She directed the bartender to the spacer. “He’s buying me a drink.” 

“And I’ll have one of those,” Alice added, pointing at a random bottle. 

Aimee turned back to the spacer. “Do you have a name, spaceman?” 

“S’a’wasa.” 

Aimee studied the patterns of cilia growing around his orange eyes. 

“Ah, I see that you do not recognize my kind.” His voice lowered to a theoretically seductive pitch. “We are known throughout the quadrant as… incredible lovers.” Aimee snorted derisively but he continued,” But you… I do not recognize your species.” 

“I’m a Human,” she replied easily,” from the Alpha Centauri system.” 

“Ah, a Human. The most prolific race in the Galaxy behind Tribbles. It speaks well of your mating practices.” They shared a laugh. “What brings you so far from your home?” 

Aimee gestured around the room. “My comrades and I… we’re Starfleet.” 

S’a’wasa’s orange eyes flared and for a moment, Aimee allowed the world to shrink away to just the two of them. Then he peered past her and asked,” Has your friend never tried Janx Spirit before?” 

“Are you kidding me? She can’t even handle a damned daiquiri — “ Realization dawned upon her and she spun around to see Alice calmly making a hat out of a basket of legumes. 

“I am the Queen of France,” she said serenely, knocking over her empty glass with an encompassing gesture. 

Aimee pitched the bridge of her nose. “Oh, hell…” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pozach stalked over to one end of her Ready Room and glowered. “No,” she muttered before she spun around on one heel and crossed over to the other wall. She stared at it until the door chimes rang. 

“Enter!,” she barked. The doors slid apart and a somewhat surprised Commander Riker stepped into the room. “Sit down,” she said quickly, forcing herself to perch herself down on the chair behind her desk. “The Anurans have declared me Glorious.” 

For a second, he didn’t react to this news. He merely dissolved into a fit of giggles. 

“Commander, is there something here that you find funny?,” she demanded, leaning over her desk.

“Not at all,” he said, hiding a smirk behind a cough. 

“I need you to go over every precedent. Every First Contact and every interpretation of the Prime Directive. I need… background information. I need to know how I can handle this.” 

“How do you think you should handle it?” 

She stared back at him with a blank glare. “Just get me the precedents.” 

Riker left the Ready Room without any additional comments and she turned to her desktop monitor. Though the Anurans had no concept of media and a limited system of interplanetary communications, someone on the surface had been going to great lengths to ensure that she was kept up to date. She scrolled through pages of plans for her coronation before slapping the screen off. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

Pasko threw a hand over his eyes. “It’s so bright,” he moaned, stumbling his way through the runabout’s hatch. He felt Yeager press a pair of sunglasses into his hands and he slipped them on over his eyes. He had landed the ship in a wide valley hewn from craggy red rock. A few scrubby bushes provided a small hint of green. 

“This used to be somebody’s capital? Was it inhabited at all?” 

“Sensors have detected that there is a network of underground tunnels and caves,” Survek informed him. 

“It’s not our place to judge another race,” Yeager said, scanning in a slow circle with her tricorder. “There’s an entrance over there.” 

The away team walked over into the cool shade of a cave. Within a hundred feet upon entering it, they had to light up the palm beacons on their wrists. Further exploration uncovered a door that was built into the rocky wall. 

“The technology appears to match a similarity to the technology used on both the space installation and the installation on Quernus,” Sayvok said. “There is no security on that door.” He entered a command into his tricorder and the door slid into the floor. Survek led them into the turbolift that was revealed upon their entry. The lift moved smoothly downward.

Yeager beamed at this. “This is such an opportunity. We could be unearthing a civilization that no one has seen for the last two hundred thousand years.” 

“Or another Alzok,” Pasko said as he fingering his phaser. 

Yeager ignored him pointedly. “I wonder what they could have left for us. Pottery? Ancient correspondence?,” she asked as the lift slowed down to a halt. “Maybe tools of some sort?” She stepped out of the lift and stopped in her tracks. 

The turbolift had released the away team into a room that was, perhaps, a thousand feet wide. Hundreds of doorways lined the walls that stretched out in front of them. Neither the scale, nor the grandeur of what the away team found captured their attention as thoroughly as the three dozen humanoids clustered together in the middle of the room. 

“Romulans!,” Pasko hissed, reaching for his phaser. 

“Lieutenant,” Survek said, his voice freezing the pilot in his tracks. Stepping in front of the away team, the Vulcan said,” Peace and long life. I am Commander Survek of the Federation starship Juneau.” 

One of the Romulans offered the commander a curt bow. “Live long and prosper, Cousin. I am Varan, commander of the Imperial warbird Havraha.” 

“I trust that our mutual interest in this world is not accidental?” 

“We are following the map donated to us by our allies.” He glanced at Pasko’s and Yeager’s surprised faces. “The Senate believed that our own exploration of this world was necessary. There was some doubt among the senators that Starfleet would share its findings with us.” 

“Starfleet is dedicated to peaceful exploration,” Yeager said. “We have only kinship with other explorers.” 

“Come on now, Ensign, I too am a patriot.” Varan smiled at her. “Well, politics aside, you are here now. Perhaps we can work together?” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The rolling hills of Anura replaced the transporter room and Pozach nodded to the massive being that appeared before her. “Glorious, thank you for seeing me.” 

“Anything that will ease your ascension,” the Glorious said, its branches bouncing slightly as the small violet creatures scampered to and fro around them.

“I ask you to reconsider crowning me,” she said after taking a deep breath and exhaling it. “I already have a number of responsibilities with my crew and my ship.” 

The Glorious rustled its leaves. “Captain Pozach,” her translator spoke to her,” it had been four years since Ferengi entrepeneurs sold faster-than-light technology to us, and since then, the Cardassians placed the space station in orbit before they abandoned it. In that time, we have been exploring the possibilities that this newfound Galaxy can offer us. Exploring slowly but exploring nonetheless.” 

Pozach opened her mouth to interject but the Glorious interrupted her with a stench. 

“There are too many possibilities, Jeanne Pozach. Too many of me to comprehend or control. I wish that I never allowed the Cardassians to place their space station over our world. If I had been more aware, I would not have. This ignorance will doom the Anuran people. We must have a guide.” 

“It can’t be me,” she said desperately. “I can’t fulfill the duties of a Starfleet officer and those of Glorious.” 

“Each Anuran has their own idea of what we should be doing as a race. None of us are tempered by experience. That is why we need you. If you do not help us,” — the Glorious’ branches shuddered, showering Pozach with red-and-golden leaves — ,” we will spread ourselves to the winds.” 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“Silly…” 

Aimee punched her code into the door panel and dragged Alice inside. 

“Hats only silly!,” the younger woman babbled as she was pushed onto one of the beds. “Wait… silly hats only!” 

“Shut up already,” the engineer muttered, dropping Alice’s headband on the dresser. Scowling, she tugged at the wrinkled mess of her gown. “Wreck of a good evening is what it is. I can’t wait until you wake up with the feeling that you’ve been knocked in the head with a slice of lemon wrapped around a large brick of gold-pressed latinum.” 

“Hey… where’s the guy?,” Alice asked her, rolling in bed as she wrapped the blankets around her. 

“What guys?,” she asked her, tugging off Alice’s shoes. 

Alice wiggled her toes. “The guy with the orange eyes… and-and the crawly skin. Weren’t you going to sleep with him?” 

“What?! No.” 

“But they were talking to him.” 

“All right, that’s it.” Aimee stood up. “You and Joe and Jeanne and everyone else, understand this! I enjoy pleasure. I enjoy sex! It makes me feel good and if the people that I’m with aren’t on the same page with me, then I feel sorry for them. My sexuality is a part of me. Why should I deny it?” She turned back angrily, eager for a response. 

Alice lay hanging over the side of the bed, her tongue rolling out of her mouth. 

Aimee pressed her fingers against her eyes and sighed. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

“We suspect that a number of the Alzok resided here,” the Romulan science officer explained, indicating the bars mounted into the walls and ceiling. “The  computer records are fragmented, but they indicate that this was once a bustling city occupied by, at least, six different races.” 

Varan held up a Romulan-style PADD for the away team’s benefit. “Observe,” he said as he activated it. On the small screen, a large room that was filled with aliens appeared. Tall, slender aliens with back-canted legs conversed amongst themselves, briefly obscured by the fleshy mass of an Alzok swinging by them. 

“Fascinating,” Survek said. 

“Unfortunately, after two hundred thousand years, there is very little biological evidence remaining,” commented the scientist. 

Varan opened one of the many doors that was recessed into the corridor wall. “I’ll have a centurion bring you the information that we’ve been able to gather so far. In the meantime, please feel free to examine this room. We have found several well-preserved artifacts that lead us to believe that they were used for recreation.” 

The door closed behind the Romulan subcommander and Pasko scowled. “Tomb raiders. We should have the Juneau come to chase them off.” 

“We have no particular claim to enforce, Lieutenant,” Survek disagreed with him. “It is unfortunate that the Romulans have arrived here before us. However, we must move forward from here.” 

Sayvok knelt down to examine a stool that had been built for back-canted legs. He rotated his head slowly before he looked up at Survek.

“I hear it as well,” the elder Vulcan said, taking a step forward. 

“Hear what?,” Yeager asked him. 

Sayvok and Survek began tearing into a pile of debris, tossing artifacts aside of them, left and right. They stopped abruptly and Pasko pushed in between them. 

“That looks an awful lot like an explosive.” 

“Disable it,” Survek ordered Sayvok. 

Pasko bolted towards the door, slamming it when it wouldn’t open for him. He stabbed at the controls to no avail before he punched at the door in frustration and fear. “We’re locked inside!” 

Yeager dragged over a cabinet and another on top of the explosive, forming a barrier. 

“I cannot disable the device,” Sayvok said, shoving the explosive away from him. The whine had become more audible to Pasko and he winced as he helped Yeager push one more last cabinet into place. 

Sayvok leaped over the cabinets and the pilot pulled him to the ground as the explosive device detonated with a mighty roar. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

The sky over Anura was deep-green and warm breezes carried over the scent of the earth. The sweet birdsong of lavender doves completed a scene that would have been completely and utterly idyllic, if not for the sense of impending doom creeping over Captain Pozach. 

“The Prime Directive doesn’t really apply here,” Commander Riker was saying, oblivious to his commanding officer’s mounting distress. “The Anurans are a warp-capable civilization so we’re allowed to interact with them. They’ve asked you to become their leader. It’s not like you’re forcing them to accept you.” 

Pozach scowled with rage and began pacing. Doctor Moru stepped into her path, forcing her to stop. A new scent filled the air and she turned to face the Anurans. With her chief medical officer and first officer walking behind her, she stepped into the shade of the Glorious. 

“There comes a time,” the Glorious said through the translator on her belt,” when the experiences of a leader are no longer sufficient to shepherd the Grove when the Grove requires one of experience to germinate into a new guide.

“Jeanne Pozach, will you be that guide?” 

“Glorious, I shall.” 

“Join us, Jeanne Pozach,” the Glorious said and she stepped deeper into its shadow. It raised one of its branchy tendrils before her, bringing an obsidian band into view. “This bracer has identified the Glorious for uncounted centuries. Since we first came together as a Grove, there has been but one.” The tendril shook until the band came loose, falling down to the ground with a slam. “Until this day. Out of respect for your Human identity, our finest stoneworkers have crafted this replica, scaling to your grasping appendage.” Another tentacle unfurled from it and Pozach took a jet black bracer. “Glorious, we revere your guidance.” 

Pozach slipped her arm into the bracer, sagging at its weight. “And it is my hope that I will be able to help to better the Grove,” — she turned to face the other Anurans more fully — ,” but while I am  experienced in the ways of the Galaxy, I am not experienced in the ways of the Anurans. For this reason, I appoint Skt as my regent, to rule in my stead while I am gone.” The Anuran creaked and she pressed on,” You have asked me for my guidance in this Galaxy but you don’t need me to tell you how to live your lives here.” 

Different scents flooded the clearing, overwhelming the translator but Pozach felt the confusion of the many Anurans around her. Their scents jetted back and forth before they finally settled. Skt rolled out of the soil and approached her. 

“This… removed form of leadership is new to us,” it said,” but it is your will and it shall be done.” Skt offered its tendrils to her in submission. “Glorious.” 

The End…