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Chapter Text

The Star Beagle Adventures                                                
Episode 1: Eye of the Beholder
Scene 1: The Beautiful Vulcan

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The Beautiful Vulcan

Ensign Tara Peterman found Transporter Chief Stephanie Wales just standing in Corridor H-6, eyes unfocused, mouth slightly open. Peterman couldn’t look at Wales without being somewhat envious. Most of the nearly 80 women aboard the U.S.S. Mako were envious of Wales’ looks and perfect figure - this in a culture of physical fitness maintained by Captain Yui Song.

“Chief, why are you not at your station?” Ensign Peterman did not make it a habit to harass enlisted crew, but Wales was just standing, as if in a trance, seemingly unaware of the junior security officer walking up in front of her. 

No reaction.

Peterman raised her voice: “Chief?”

Wales shook herself, then looked about. “Where is he? What?” She seemed to gradually notice the ensign’s presence. “Sir?”

“Are you all right, Chief?”

Wales shook herself again. “Yes sir.” She still looked confused.

“Your station, Chief?” Peterman said gently, more to help the transporter chief than to scold her for being away from her station. It still took a moment for Wales to reorient herself.

“Aye, sir,” Wales responded, then turned toward the transporter room, only a few feet down the corridor.

Peterman paused only a moment to observe the transporter chief returning to her station before returning to her own assignment, a conference room nearby. A single security crewman was on guard outside the door - one of Peterman’s charges. “You are relieved, Crewman Lin. You may return to your patrol.”

Crewman Lin Jiang came to attention, saluted, then left his post to continue his duties as Ensign Peterman took his place.

“To Qo’noS with a cloaked escort?” At 83, Captain Yui Song was one of the oldest captains in Star Fleet. At least one of the oldest humans. She regarded the vulcan across the table from her with a mixture of suspicion and empathy. Vulcans had often been compared to the Chinese - at least in terms of inscrutability and utilitarian morality. Both were unfair comparisons, but there was one thing that truly was similar - underneath a veneer of emotional self-control lurked a passion as strong as that of any human. And she had no doubt that the vulcan across the conference table was concealing a lot of it. 

“A gift from the Federation. Do not allow the klingons to characterize it otherwise,” Lt. Commander Senek replied. “We are removing an embarrassment for them and obtaining a valuable asset for the Federation. At least that is what my captain believes.”

“Am I to understand this embarrassing asset has a name?”

“Captain Howard has requested that he be treated with the respect due a hero of the Klingon Empire. And that your crew address him as ‘General’ when they encounter him.”

Captain Yui’s eyes narrowed. “General…”

Senek’s oddly large, forest green eyes registered no change - just a mournful world-weariness uncharacteristic of vulcans. “Star Fleet has requested the temporary services of General Krank as a military analyst, and Chancellor Martok has graciously leant him to us. Indefinitely.”

Captain Yui suppressed any reaction, but, truth be told, her internal response was admirably mirrored in the habitual expression of mournful world-weariness of the vulcan across the table from her. “And your ship could not be dispatched for this mission because?”

“This mission is outside the U.S.S. Beagle’s mission profile,” Senek responded.

Yui Song allowed the silence to stretch long enough to confirm that the Beagle’s science officer was not going to elaborate - was quite probably under orders not to. She took a deep breath. “We have prepared quarters for the General according to your captain’s request. Now I understand why. A klingon warrior with post traumatic stress. I can understand why the klingons are willing to part with him. A hero of the empire who must be hidden from the empire. But why the cloaked escort?”

“To prevent open contact with any klingon vessels while unofficially granting passage through imperial space for your ship,” Senek replied. “My captain believes the klingons will do their best to pretend that we are not there. He has provided me a response formula for any communication we may have with our escort.”

Captain Yui watched Senek’s face closely, but the vulcan betrayed no hint that there was any humor in his words. “So you are charged with conducting diplomatic relations with the klingons for this mission.”

Lt. Cmdr. Senek did not respond. If anything, he managed to look slightly more morose.

Yui Song took a breath, then stood up. “Thank you, Lieutenant Commander. Ensign Peterman is waiting outside to escort you to your quarters.” She watched as the Beagle’s 2nd officer rose, bowed and exited. He was an exceptionally unusual looking vulcan. Fair skin was very unusual among a people from a sunwashed planet and golden-blonde hair was even more unusual. Senek’s hair fell straight and fine to his waist. And he was, simply put, stunningly beautiful. Yui had put this persistent, uncomfortable observation out of her mind while talking with him, but it was the most powerful impression left behind in his absence. That and a lingering sense of mournful world-weariness.

“Ensign…”

Ensign Tara Peterman’s beleaguered brain had not yet registered that she was being addressed by a superior officer.

“Ensign,” Lt. Cmdr. Senek repeated.

“Yes sir?” Peterman managed.

“You were assigned to escort me to my quarters?” It was phrased as a question.

“Yes sir? Oh, yes sir,” Peterman replied. She shook herself and managed to pry her eyes away from the vulcan in front of her. Men weren’t supposed to be that beautiful. And vulcans were famous for not trying. She tried not to stare at him while they were in the turbolift. He was too tall and too pretty for a vulcan - if someone had been casting for Frey, god of the elves, they couldn’t have done better. Except for the perpetually mournful expression.

Peterman stopped in the doorway for Lt. Cmdr. Senek’s temporary quarters aboard the U.S.S. Mako.

“Ensign…”

“Sir?”

“You appear to be… drooling.”

Peterman shook herself in embarrassment and wiped her face with her sleeve. “I’m sorry, sir. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

If anything, Senek seemed even more morose. “I know you are not in my command, but as a superior officer, I’m going to give you an order.”

Peterman’s heart skipped a beat, desperately hoping for some illegally naughty order.

“Return to your quarters, regain your composure and… um… freshen up before returning to your post.”

“Sir?”

“Your scent, Ensign. Strive to return it to neutral. As much as that is possible.”

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