The burden of command

Posted on 05/21/2012 @ 4:18am by Captain Kheren & Captain Syntron & Commander Elliago Nasaro-Myth M.D. & Lieutenant JG Tyvya & Lieutenant JG Lyrya Ph.D.
Edited on on 06/13/2012 @ 9:43am

Mission: Azimuth Horizon: Crusade - Chapter 4: Operation Horizon
Location: Between Jouri and the Azimuth Horizon
Timeline: Over 20 hrs after launch

Captain's log

Stardate: unknown

We have successfully managed to achieve warp speed despite the loss of our stardrive and currently moving towards our designed theater of operations. For his technical achievement in this and in conceiving the trilithium emitters that will put the threat of the Azimuth Horizon to rest, My first officer, Mister Syntron, should be awarded the Cochrane Medal of Excellence. For his demonstrated leadership and excellence in his assigned responsibilities, I also ask that his field commission to the executive chair be officially confirmed and for him to be considered for promotion. Commendations also to the entire crew of the Artemis, which has shown the best of what is expected of Starfleet officers in the direst and most difficult circumstances.

These circumstances lead me to order the ramming of the Romulan dreadnought with our stardrive to stop its incursion, nullify its threat to the sector and avoid interstellar conflict. Despite the blatant act of war the Empire committed by violating our space with cloaked warships, openly threatening the security of the Federation and attacking without provocation, I am confident that the Federation Council will not answer them with a formal declaration of war; the very shame of their dismal failure and of seeing their unforgivable duplicity exposed when we will return Admiral Tomalak with proof of their actions will be so much, I suspect the Empire will go into another of its periodical isolation period and, for a while, crawl back into the shadows. Between the shattering of their civilization after the Hobus catastrophy and this last crushing defeat, they will be left too vulnerable to consider further military or covert action outside of their territory, let alone war.

We are now left with our primary task; contain and nullify the threat of the Azimuth Horizon anomaly. Our maneuver to achieve warp speed however has exposed us to time dilation for a few seconds. How much time elapsed in normal space as we transited near the speed of light has yet to be ascertained, as our long range sensors are still under repair. Hopefully, merely hours or days will have gone by; but we might reintegrate normal space years or even centuries after.

Let us hope that, in whatever time we will find ourselves in, Lotus Fleet will have prevailed and there will still be a universe to welcome us back.

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Captain's Personnal Log

Whatever the outcome of my decisions, I have to assume full responsibility about our final fate as much as about the destruction of my ship.

When I set out for this mission, I knew that their was a distinct possibility that the Artemis would be destroyed, as we were ordered to literally shield the Alsea in a potential armed confrontation with the incoming Romulan Dreadnought Shavok. That is why I ordered most of my crew off the ship before we launched; unnecessary exposing to seeked out mortal danger the lives of uneeded science researchers, maintenance technicians, junior security personnel and relief nurses would not only have been useless, it would have been criminally insane, especially on a ship already rigged to be fully operational with but a handful of people. Alas and despite all we had been through, a good number of my crew, including my former first officer, was too overwhelmed with childish impulses of imaginary glory and egotistical misplaced pride to understand, or even keep fate in the judgment of their commanding officer. I regret the loss of so many good people; but I have absolutely no regret whatsoever in my decision. They might all resent me or even despise me for it; but they are still alive to do so.

However, when we set out to face the Romulans and the anomaly, I expected heavy and crippling damage; shields usually break during any intense swordfight and we were ordered to be the shield to the Alsea's sword. But I truly did not expect to go and ram the enemy. I am releived that my foresight allowed me to quickly evacuate the reduced crew to the saucer section and use it's last resort separation feature to do so without loosing any of them. But the fact remains: I ordered the destruction of the starship Artemis.

Starship commanders loosing a ship rarely if ever get another command; such opportunities are still rare and only given to someone proven wise enough and responsible enough to assume such a privilege. The destruction of one's vessel hardly qualifies...

I am ready and willing to assume the consequences of my decisions. In my own judgment, this was the only option left to me to ensure the safety of my crew and of the citizens of the United Federation of Planets against an overwhelming enemy force who could have destroyed us at any moment and, repeatedly and without provocation, almost managed to do so; or worse, an enemy who could have easily escaped us, with no possibility for us of stopping that faster, more powerful enemy before it could have reached Starbase 10 or the anomaly or any other target and cause untold destruction and loss of life.

I hereby state here for the record; I deeply regret the loss of so many Romulan lives, regardless of the circumstances that brought upon such a tragedy. But, would the same circumstances arise again, I would make the same decisions and take the same actions without hesitation. Because the steps I took, and the order in which I took them, were all the proper steps to ensure the safety and security of the United Federation of Planets and of my crew.

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Kheren ended the log recordings and kept looking out at the streaking stars beyond the high and narrow window of his ready room. His logs would be the first things scrutinized by the board of inquiry that would inevitably come when they would get back to Starbase 10. The loss of a starship required a full investigation into the circumstances of this loss. It was not a question of putting the blame on anyone, be it the ship's commander or anyone else; it was the necessary step to take note of those circumstances and make every effort to ensure that such a loss would not happen again.

Of course, the easiest way to do that was to remove the former commander from further opportunity to repeat the tragedy...

Kheren was fully aware of that and ready to accept such a judgment. He had been given the responsibility of commanding this ship. He had made the decision. He had destroyed her.

If he was to be removed because of his decision, then so be it. He was already mourning his beloved ship, his first, and most probably last, command; but he regretted nothing. The Romulan threat had been nullified... the simple fact that the anomaly was still there was proof enough that the Alsea had, one way or another, stopped the Romulan task force... And, most importantly, no one under his command had paid for it. They were all alive; they were all safe; they were all to be commended.

To him, that was all that mattered.

Starfleet vessel captains are to consider the lives of their crewmembers as sacred. In any potentially hostile situation, the captain will place the lives of his crew above the fate of his ship.

This was much, much more to him than Starfleet General Order 17; it was at the core of his being. They were more than shipmates or colleagues; they were his clan, his family. And to any Andorian, even more so to Kheren Kalel Th'Ch'Leryll Keth Reiji, master duellist of Andoria, self-exiled Messiah and Abomination of his people, nothing came before family... his crew... not even one's own life... or career.

His musings were interrupted by the chime of his ready room door.

"Enter."

Syntron stood outside of the Captain’s office and entered upon hearing the barely audible invitation of the commanding officer emanating from behind the door.

He stepped up to the desk and announced “Captain, we now have 71.2% of the trilithium emitters complete. Lieutenants Baoule, Blakely and I have worked out a back-up strategy to ensure that the torpedo launchers will remain within recommended temperature parameters during our succession of torpedo discharges.”

"That is quite earlier than I expected. Good work, Number One."

Although listening attentively to his report, the first officer could sense that the commanding officer was indeed preoccupied with other thoughts at that moment. He then chose to break his standard etiquette in his inquiry.

“Sir, are you… concerned about the potential outcome of the Starfleet board of inquiry following the conclusion of our mission?”

Kheren sat down into his chair behind his transluscent desk, nodding to the Vulcan to do the same. He took a moment to gather his thoughts before replying.

"I'm more concerned about keeping this crew alive and whole... and have a universe to bring them safely back to. But then again, loosing one's ship is always a matter of concern. As for the... potential outcome, as you put it... well, maybe I am."

The Andorian made a pause and then leaned forward on his desk and crossed his fingers betweent them.

"You're a logical being, Mister Syntron... I know, it goes without saying... so, what do you think?"

Looking intently at the brawny yet troubled Andorian Captain seated before him, the first officer responded:

“Considering that we are here now Captain, able to engage in this conversation… it just seemed virtually improbable as we stood on that bridge at that moment and faced that maniacal Romulan commander controlling that menacing warship intent on our destruction.”

The first officer eased his stance slightly in the seat opposite of the Captain as he tried to gather his thoughts into words; which in most circumstances was effortless… but not in this situation.

“I strived to think of a logical solution Sir… yet I was unable to formulate a viable option. Your call Captain, as bold and dangerous as it initially appeared, accomplished what the most revered captains throughout Starfleet history have been able to accomplish on such rare occasions: turn imminent death into a fighting chance for life. We are still here Captain, and we may yet have the opportunity to at least attempt to bring an end to this anomaly’s path of destruction. The Romulan commander aboard that ship in his reckless rage left you no alternative in regards to what you had to do to ensure the safety of this crew… and afterward with their intent to potentially attack Starbase 10 and then heedlessly ignite the anomaly afterward… Sir, I am confident that Starfleet will recognize your actions in context of facing this invading force and the widespread ramifications that would have been a result if you neglected to do so.”

Syntron was not certain if he was being clear in what he was trying to convey, so he added “Captain, you also posses Romulan Admiral Tomalak… who requested asylum aboard this ship. He will be able to corroborate these extenuating circumstances… in addition to every bridge officer who stood beside you when you made that call… and will stand beside you again before any board of inquiry.”

Kheren listened to the elaborate analysis of his Vulcan first officer with no apparent reaction on his rigid dark-blue face; but his antennae wobbled slightly to the rythm of Syntron's words, not just because his sense of hearing was there but because they were highly sensitive to his emotional state. But even another Andorian would have had a hard time reading them at the moment.

He wasn't even sure how he felt himself.

After a moment, he sighed and nodded.

"You are about to tell me that a desperate action is the only logical choice in a desperate situation. I hope there will be enough Vulcans on the board to see it that way too."

He stood up and went to the replicator to order his infamous captain's brew and a cup of Vulcan spiced tea he knew Syntron favored. Once he gave it to him, he went around the desk and back to his seat as he added:

"As for our distinguished guest, who can predict what he will tell? He is Romulan; his sense of duty, inbred since infancy and held up throughout his long career, will make him say and do whatever he will judge best for his Empire. He could not care less about me and our rules . He asked for asylum; he did not surrender. No Romulan ever would; and even this asylum request is unheard of since Admiral Jerok, half a century ago... But our logs sent to both Starbase 10 and the Alsea will speak unabridgedly about what happened back there."

The Andorian took a sip of his thick grey smelly drink.

"I am of course much gratified... no, deeply honored, by the vote of confidence and show of loyalty you express for yourself and on behalf of the crew... but in the end, I alone will still have to answer for what happened. No one should take the fall for me or with me; no one shall or will."

Before he took another gulp of the pungent brew, he finished:

"But the sentiment... I am sorry Mister Syntron.... the thought, is most appreciated."

Syntron took another sip of the Vulcan spiced tea as he listened to the carefully chosen words as the Captain concluded his statement.

Then with a slight hesitation he responded.

“With all due respect Captain, there is not a crew member currently aboard this vessel who would perceive standing up for you and your decision as taking a fall. You stood before the entire crew prior to this mission and unabashedly presented the dangers awaiting us and warned us that we would most likely not be coming back alive. We reduced our complement to a skeleton crew as ordered and despite the obstacles and hazards we have faced thus far Captain, not one crew member has perished. If we in fact had a full crew as in previously missions, many would have lost their lives in the attack from the Shavok. Again this too is a merit of your foresightedness and leadership. Placing this in logical perspective Sir, a loss of the stardrive section of a relatively antiquated starship as the only Federation casualty in these circumstances is no small feat; especially given the role that this played in allowing us to resolve two major obstacles simultaneously.”

Syntron then took another long sip of the Vulcan spiced tea as he gazed intently at the Andorian Captain before him.

Kheren listened to the words of the Vulcan with a mixture of surprise and... let's face it, pride. And the way he spoke, completely dispassionately as he exposed the cold hard facts as only one of his people could, made them all the more vibrant and passionate to him; indeed because of his utter lack of emotion when voicing them. His firmness, his calmness, his clinical detachment over it all made what he said all the more convincing.

"One thing I will say for you, Mister Syntron; you do know how to lift your commanding officer's spirit. I beleive your predecessor would have prefered for me to do the same, to uplift the crew with promises of success and words of total confidence in our upcoming triumph, instead of drumming them down with the cold hard truth," he said after a moment, nodding to Syntron. "Not everyone is logical as Vulcans or Saurians or disciplined as Klingons or Andorians... notice how all but one Bajoran on board requested transfer. But that is the past now; I beleive luck had as much to do as my... foresight in our continuing survival; that and even more the trust, discipline and dedication of those who stayed on board... and also those who stayed behind."

He drank a bit of his brew before adding:

"As for our sacrifice being the only one... I truly hope that you are right. We know the Lotus and the Spectre were headed into the sector directly facing a possible Klingon incursion... As the McKenzie and the rest of the fleet might be facing interference from the Horizon Children cult. May our loss, indeed, be the only one."

Syntron nodded in affirmation as the Captain spoke regarding the rest of the fleet.

“In regards to this Captain, the next task I will work on is to bring our long-range communication systems back to full-functioning mode so that we will have the ability to determine the actual status of our remaining fleet by restoring our ability to communicate with our allied ships once again. I will be assembling additional crew members to complete this undertaking as quickly and efficiently as possible.”

"Agreed. Mister Cheonghi should help you with this. He's most familiar with all ship systems and ressources. And Mister Baoule can provide you both with the engineering personnel and equipment. You should also see that our long range sensors are fully operational by the time we will get to the anomaly. With all the subspace interference it causes, we will need both in top condition for them to be of any use at all."

“Acknowledged Captain, I will oversee the restoration of both of these systems utilizing our key personnel as recommended.”

As he stood up in front of the desk, Syntron then inquired “Is there anything else, Sir?”

Kheren stood up and went around his desk to stand before the taller Vulcan.

"You know, with all this excitement and your excellence at performing your new duties, I never asked you how you feel about being executive officer..."

With an elevated eyebrow held in place, Syntron responded respectfully “Feelings about my change in title aboard this ship are irrelevant Captain.”

Kheren's antennae perked up and curved slightly inward with the amusement heard in his voice.

"Mister Syntron, you are Vulcan and I am Andorian. Our two peoples go way back... And I was trained several years by a Vulcan master. So you very well know that I know better."

Releasing the brow and standing a bit more at ease while facing the Captain, Syntron then supplemented his initial response.

“I find that my role as executive officer is more efficient… in that I am able to directly implement and complete a multiplicity of tasks in various departments simultaneously without the need to obtain authorization from a series of individual officers; just the Captain. This saves time, effort and energy.”

The first officer pondered for a few additional seconds.

“In addition, I can offer my services and ideas to several departments in a manner that is unique compared to representing the perspective of only the science department.”

This time without hesitation, he concluded, “And lastly but nevertheless importantly, this role affords me the opportunity to interact with the Captain directly in discussions and decisions that impact all aspects of the ship, her crew and a mission, such as the one we are currently undertaking. This has the benefit of keeping my mind appropriately active and engaged, as any Vulcan should expect to accomplish if they are to continue to increase their intellectual diversity and leadership capacity as a representative in Starfleet.”

"Well, I am glad you feel that way, Mister Syntron," Kheren shot back with the same amused tone. But this time, it was also laced with satisfaction and relief.

Standing straighter before his XO, the captain then said with his chin elevated in the typical Andorian posture of respect:

"Your service aboard this ship, be it as chief science officer or as exec, has been nothing but exemplary. I for one do feel fortunate and honored to have you on board my ship... well, what's left of it... and for the time we have left. Carry on, Lieutenant Commander."

Bowing his head slightly as a sign of respect and then looking directly up at commanding officer again, Syntron responded.

“Thank you Captain for the complementary assessment of my service aboard this ship… even if this includes now only the mere remnants of it. I shall nevertheless endeavor to honor this bestowal of acknowledgement and gratitude with continual service that is commendable and efficient.”

Kheren nodded.

"Well as they say on your planet, Mister Syntron; vu dvin dor etwel... your service honors us."

Returning to his desk, the captain just added:

"if there is nothing else, Number One, I'll release you to your duties. But do not forget to take some rest before we get to the Azimuth Horizon. We do not know yet what condition we will truly face once we get there."

“Acknowledged Captain” Syntron agreed as he turned and headed out of the door.

As he walked back onto the bridge of the Artemis, the first officer knew though that there was a multitude of imperative objectives that needed to be addressed before any rest would even be considered.

As he stepped onto the Artemis command center, acting tactical officer Tyvya rose up to her full towering frame.

"How is the captain's mood, Mister Syntron?"

Knowing the multiple levels from which her concern may have emanated, the first officer took a moment to consider the question carefully before responding.

“Considering our current circumstances, the Captain’s mood, as you expressed, appears rather sanguine.”

He then added “But as you realize Tyvya, this skill of determining one’s disposition is not one my specializations.”

The Andorian giantess simply nodded and signalled Lieutenant Mrriish to take over for her as she stepped towards the lefthand bridge door and disappeared behind it.

"Mister Syntron," then said chief engineer assistant Patricia Blakely, "Mister Baoule would like you to join him in torpedo magazine room 1 to finalize the preparation of the trilithium probes."

Syntron turned to address the assistant chief engineer “Acknowledged Lieutenant Blakely. Notify Mister Baoule that I am proceeding there now.”

The first officer headed to the turbolift and engaged the device.

“Deck Nine”

The lift began its swift decent to the lower section of the saucer section.

At the same moment the First officer went to join with the technical crew, tactical chief Tyvya stood before the ready room door of Captain Kheren.

For some time, she just stood there, the ultrasensitive receptors of her antennae taking in even through the closed panel the sound of his pacing in the small office. She knew Kheren never paced; if he was doing so, now, then it meant that he was so agitated that even his astounding self-control was starting to slip.

At this moment, she wasn't sure about her own either.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the chime button with a swift jabbing finger. On the other side of the door, the footsteps stopped. There were a few seconds of silence before rose the familiar deep, soft voice.

"Enter."

He was standing near the small transparency, the streaking display of stars playing in his silvery eyes, giving his stare and almost feral quality as he blinked at her.

"What is it, Lieutenant?"

"That was going to be my question... Sir."

Kheren kept quiet for a long moment, looking at empty space as if she was not there with him in the small room. Then, he finally asked her:

"How long since the last time you went to Andoria?"

The question seemed to bring her off-balance a moment.

"Quite some time... right after the Borg War; and I stayed only but for a few days. Nothing changes much back home... eternal as the ice, as we say there."

He kept silent again for another moment.

"I never returned since I left to join Starfleet. I do not regret putting back my former life for this one... except sometimes, when so many lives were lost because of what I decided... and so many more yet depend on what I will decide next."

The giantess listened to him with close attention, well beyond his words... even to the words he was not uttering outloud. She could hear his heart beating in his thick chest behind every thought that were making his antennae slide in and out of his white-haired skull, something only he could do by virtue of this mutation of his that had estranged him from his own people. She understood what he was saying... but even more what he was feeling.

"You are not alone you know... not... anymore."

It took a moment for Kheren to fully register the tone of voice as much as the words of the towering Andorian woman; then, the sensitive olfactory receptors also within his antennae reacted to her body odor and the bioelectric sense beside them noticed the altered state of her bioaura. On any other Andorian Thaan or Chan of his age, all of this would have been completely inconsequential. But he was no ordinary Andorian male; he was a fusion, a genetically engineered mutation combining both male genders of his species, an astounding, many said monstrous, attempt to alter the Andorian race to save it from extinction. As a result, his physiology was now as lively and active as that of any Human.

And she knew it.

Tyvya was already coming up close to him, her four eyes darted from high up her towering height down on him like the stare of a hunting predator. Her own antennae were detecting as well all the signs his own powerful body was increasingly betraying with each step she took towards him.

Then, the deep soft voice of her captain stopped her with a cold tone.

"Lieutenant... as you were."

Andorians were passionate, a people of fire from a world of ice; and the female genders of the species even more so, much more agressive than those of any other species; but all Andorians were also born and bred with a strict sense of discipline. And so, his tone and his words froze her for a moment between two loud heartbeats, barely one step from him. Then, as her heart started to race again, his calm yet authoritative, powerful yet madeningly soothing voice resounded deep within her.

"Lieutenant... we will all reap the fruits of success... when will come the proper time to do so.. But I alone must bear the responsibility if we fail."

For a moment, she blinked her large, almond-shaped blue-eyes down on him. Then, slowly, she straightened her towering frame, relaxed her sinewy arms and sighed heavily. But her fists stayed rigidly balled each side of her stiffening body.

"Aye... Captain... see that we don't."

And with that, she turned around, almost painfully so, and slowly exited the ready room that had become so small a moment ago.

Now, to the commanding officer left alone in it, it felt suddenly very cold and empty.

And outside the captain's ready room, Tyvya paused for a moment, letting her heart slows down a bit before she moved again on her long, powerful legs to the secondary turbolift at the other end of the corridor. Once she got inside, she tapped her combadge.

"Tyvya to Lyrya."

A soft, almost musical voice came back to her.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Don't you Lieutenant me, Doctor. We need to talk. Now."

A short while later, Kheren exited his ready room and went also to the secondary turbolift. When he exited the cabin, it was to walk in the eerily empty corridors that led to the aft upper part of what was left of his once magnificent starship, where was located the Owl's Crest, the ship's observation deck and arboritum.

It was his favorite place to recollect himself and gather his thoughts when he felt most pressurized by circumstances. The miniature forested landscape felt utterly alien to an iceworlder like him, with it's peaceful meadows and clusters of trees, bushes and flowers from a hundred worlds under the vast panoramic vista of the stars streaking overhead and behind; but it was this peacefullness, the alien beauty of this quiet place that he had always found most welcomed when the clicks and beeps of the ship started to sound too much like the wild beatings of his own heart.

As was his habit, he went right before the aft transparency... and was shocked by the sight of an infinite sea of falling stars receding quickly behind into utter darkness; the familiar sight of the two large, flat warp nacelles jutting from the rest of the ship was nowhere to be seen now. The Andorian also noticed for the first time the complete silence around him; they were at high warp and yet, there was no trace of the familiar throbbing of the powerful warp core now gone; not even the soft hum of the impulse engines now dormant.

It was all as bewildering as it was sadening... and sobering; it focused even more deeply his thoughts from what they had been through to what was still laying ahead.

"I knew I'd find you here."

Kheren did not turn to face the bald, smiling Deltan that came up right beside him before the window, so that his antennae could pick-up his rich, soft voice.

"The computer told you," the Andorian replied flatly.

"Didn't ask the thing. But since your shift has ended, that you had ample time to finish up your reports in your ready room and current circumstances are much too tense to let you relax in your own quarters, you were either on the holodeck or here. I saw Lieutenant Tyvya stomp into the counselor's office like a raging tigress... so i guessed you would be here."

"What is the connection between here and Tyvya?" the captain asked with a sideway glance at Doctor Nasaro-Myth.

"That's not exaclty the connection I made," retorted Elliago purposedly not looking back at him.

Kheren snorted.

"If you are implying some sort of... how do Humans call it? Siblings quarrel..."

" Try lovers quarrel..."

" You are lost way too deep into your Deltan mind. She is a Lieutenant and I am her commanding officer..."

"Like that has anything to do with it..."

"It has everything to do with it."

"If you say so... Captain Sir."

The Deltan doctor wasn't looking at him at that moment; he was almost choking to refrain the laugh rumbling in his throat.

Kheren however was not laughing at all. He turned his dark-blue face squarely towards Elliago, antennae quivering to the rythm of his conflicting emotions.

"Doctor... you of all people know about my condition. And you know very well what it means for Andorians."

The Deltan was definitely not taken aback by the words or the tone they were voiced with.

"It means that, for all intent and purposes, you are the only one among your Ghelnoid kind that has the same... biology... as all of us, Humanoids, have."

"Tyvya does not," flatly pointed out the captain with a growl.

"She seemed rather frustrated when I saw her stomp into sickbay, but I don't think she went to see Counselor Lyrya for a session," then shot back Elliago with a telling smile.

For a long moment, Kheren just blinked back at him, antennae straight up in genuine surprise. but then they drooped low as he turned his silvery eyes away.

"It's not just a question of... biology, as you say, Doc... On Andoria, family matters more than anything. Klingon house honor, Romulan blood pride, Cardassian family duties... even Human love for their children... all together, they still pale in comparison to Andorian family ties. There is now ay to explain it, even among us; we just know, feel it... outworlders never can..."

"Then, my dear Captain... how can you deprive yourself..."

The Andorian turned swiftly to face him again, antennae lowered over his slitted eyes.

"Because I must! For the very sake of that family I can never have!"

"I told you; because of your unique physiology, you are way past your species normal fertility period and still able to..."

"Because of my... unique physiology, Doctor, I dare not!"

To Deltans, relationships, committement, love, procreation, family... they were all one and the same and as natural and vital as breathing. None of those could exist without the other; a Deltan could not even exist without any one of those essentials of life. It was obvious in the face of the Chief Medical Officer that he failed completely to understand what Kheren was saying or why he was suddenly feeling so emotional.

And so, Kheren faced him fully and asked:

"Tell me, Doctor; what do you see..."

"I see a tall, powerfully built, mature Andorian..."

"Like everyone else... except Andorians," interrupted the Artemis captain. "What any Andorian would see, Doctor, is a darker skinned Ghelnoid with an abnormally massive body and impossibly retracting antennae... in short, Doctor, a mutant, a monster, a freak..."

He took a long breath to calm himself down before continuing.

"On Andoria, indeed, in any part of space where my people can still be found, everyone knows me, knows what I am; the product of an illegal genetic manipulation to alter our very species... an abomination."

"Andorians are proud and passionate to be sure, Captain, but even then, Andorians are a highly civilized, sophisticated people..."

"So is yours, Doctor, and Humans... Nevermind laws and ethics of science and society, but tell me; what would all this "highly civilized, sophisticated Humanity" think if someone told them that he created as their next necessary evolutionary step against upcoming extinction a person fusing both their genders?"

This time, Elliago was silent, pondering all the implications that suddenly dawned in his mind about what the Andorian was saying. He was an artificially made fusion between the two male genders of his unique four-gender species; the first and only Andorian who could even procreate naturally with Humanoids; one of a kind on a dying world with an ancient culture still imbeded in traditions dating back to prehistory. And the most enduring, key tradition of all was the founding and raising of a family; more than for any culture in known space, procreation defined everything that was Andorian. Altering it was altering the very essence of the Andorian race, culture, society and beliefs, from it's very core to it's tiniest detail. Even the disturbing notion of a genetically engineered Human hermaphrodite still conveyed little of the impact made by the very existence of Kheren Kalel Th'Ch'Leryll Keth Reiji.

"So, Doctor," then said the commanding officer of the Artemis, "do you see why I can't even consider the matter? Especially with one of my kind, let alone one of my own officers?"

The Deltan nodded with a slight tilt of his bald head. He nodded with respect to his captain then stepped away to leave him alone and turned to exit the Owl's Crest. But, just as he was about to leave, he stopped for a moment near the door and turned back to him. Then a small smile crept back to his lips.

"And... what does she think about this?"

 

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