From: neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu (Neale Davidson)
Newsgroups: alt.startrek.creative
Subject: STTUQ 11/15
Date: 30 Aug 92 21:27:23 GMT
Organization: Purdue University Computing Center


 
  - STAR TREK      ---------------------------------------------------
  - THE UNFAIR QUO ---------------------------------------------------
 
  Part Eleven of Fifteen
 
  --------------------------------------------------------------------
 
  CHAPTER ELEVEN
 
        Gahrut emerged from the room after another three hours.
  Seeing her, his guilt was even more intensified. Matthews was
  still there, along with two security officers, phasers ready.
        "It's not your fault, you know," Matthews tried when
  seeing the young Horta emerge. "There was nothing you could
  have done for her."
        "The hell there wasn't," Gahrut chided himself. "I should
  have known there was trouble when she called up to escort her.
  I should have been ready."
        "There was no way, Gahrut," Matthews tried again. "You
  did your best. That's all anyone could have given to her."
  Gahrut turned, unconvinced. "Look, Captain Riley's doing
  everything he can do at the moment, maybe you can help him out?
  I'm sure he would appreciate it."
        Gahrut stirred. "Any ideas on who the bastard is?" he
  queried with a dark overtone. "Any clues yet?"
        "Not yet," Matthews replied honestly. Thankfully, without
  clues, Gahrut would have little to vent his anger upon as yet.
  "The genetic traces we've found on her have been tampered with.
  Whoever did this had access to a lot of expensive equipment."
        "He was a Star Fleet officer," Gahrut muttered. "Of
  course he'd have access to equipment. He could have just
  authorized it away and no one would be the wiser. Damn him,"
  Gahrut concluded with a grunt.
        "Look, is there anything you can add?" Matthews tried
  again. "If you want to help Paula, you need to clear your head
  so you can think straight."
        Gahrut stopped moving. "If your wife was raped while you
  were knocked unconscious, would you be so calm and rational
  about it?" he dared, giving away too much.
        "My wife?" Matthews flustered for a moment. "No, if
  anything happed to Jean, I'd been wanting to kill something
  right about now," he admitted. "It doesn't mean that it's going
  to help anything."
        Gahrut turned again. "But at least you can appreciate how
  I feel? Can't you?" he pleaded for understanding.
        Matthews fell silent, taken aback by the innuendo that
  Gahrut was trying to convey. "She means that much to you,
  Lieutenant?"
        "I've known her all my life," Gahrut replied, quietly.
  "In a way, we grew up together. The longest we've been apart
  was when she served at Starbase three after graduation and I
  got an early transfer to the ACUTIS. That was about three
  months."
        "And," Mathhews dared, "You feel like she's your mate or 
  something?" He forced himself to forget the absurdity of the 
  notion.
        Gahrut came close to sigh, at least as close as a Horta 
  was capable. "Sort of. I know it's physically impossible, but 
  it still doesn't mean that can't have feelings for her does 
  it?" he asked with a bit of reluctance. "I mean, there's more 
  to care and affection than mating, isn't there?"
        "Yes," Matthews admitted. "Yes, there is. But you do 
  realize that sometime, eventually, she'll want another 
  humanoid,"  he carefully added. "Just as you will want another 
  Horta, at some point in your life."
        "I want to be human," Gahrut confessed. "Just so I be
  with her. I love her so much, I can't stand it sometimes," he
  confided. "We've been so close."
        Matthews smiled knowingly. "I think that's a bit out of
  my league, Lieutenant," he joked. "But anything's possible. 
  Maybe a tour on the holodeck?"
        Gahrut said nothing, taking mild offense at the remark. 
  "I guess you can't understand, Doctor. I guess it really is 
  absurd to even contemplate," he added, sliding down the hall.
        Matthews stood, a bit remorseful about his comments. 
  "Sorry," he muttered as he watch the young Horta slowly leave 
  his sight.
 

-- 

"Our crew's living quarters have left the ship."
			- Secundam Yto aboard the IRON CLAW II
Neale Davidson, another writer wanna-be. neale@mentor.cc.purdue.edu