One is the Loneliest Number

[Victria 0]

"Finally," Tandaris said to himself as he left the meeting. "Okay, what's next on my list?" He mentally ran down his suddenly burgeoning checklist of events. Ah, yes, that woman who had come to see him in Engineering... Victria? She had wanted to speak to him about something. As Tandaris slipped out of engineering, he tapped his combadge.

 

"Lieutenant Admiran to Victria."

 

In her quarters after her brief exploration of Main Security, Victria blinked at the voice that emanated from thin air. She automatically glanced to the ceiling, gaze traveling across it to the wall that held the communications panel. Moving to it, she pressed the button that she'd learned would allow her to speak to anyone on the ship. "I'm here."

 

"You wished to speak with me?" he asked, realizing that he really knew nothing about her or her purpose on the ship. "I'm available now, how about you?"

 

"Yes." She threw a glance about the empty room, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. After her tour, she had come to her quarters to contemplate and soon found herself battling boredom. "I think I can spare a few minutes now. Where?"

 

Tandaris said, "How about the lounge on Deck 10?" He could use a Talarian spiced tea right now, especially if he was about to have a reasonably intelligent interaction with someone.

 

"That would be suitable. I shall meet you there." Victria was sure she could find it by using the computer. She had managed to find Engineering and Security, though neither department appreciated her arrival there. Slipping out of her room, she activated the wall display in the corridor to show her the way and arrived a few short minutes later.

 

Tandaris returned first to the science lab and secured the alien device in the containment field. He was entranced by the device, but the last thing he wanted to do was endanger the ship again. Then he proceeded to the lounge, arriving only a few moments after Victria. He prevailed on the replicator for a mug of spiced tea and then sat down at the table.

 

Victria had replicated herself a glass of blood-red liquid, thicker and darker than wine. Amazing that one could simply go to a replicator, order a glass of hemoglobin, and have it materialize. Was it a special modification for her or were there other species in the Federation that survived off blood? She lounged in her chair, at total ease. Her icy gaze followed him as he approached the table and took a seat. "Lieutenant."

 

"Hi there," Tandaris said, apparently unfazed by the fact that Victria was drinking what appeared to be blood. "So... forgive me, but I'm a little curious as to why you'd like to talk with me. You look like a diplomat, or at least a guest--if you have questions or some sort of engineering matter to discuss, perhaps you'd be better off seeing Commander Xavier. He is the department head, after all. I just fix things." Or break them, he thought. He kept that to himself though.

 

She leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table, fingers lazily twirling the stem of her glass. A slow smile formed on her lips, though she did not show her teeth. In Al-Ucardian society, bared fangs were a sign of aggression or warning. "I was told to speak with you. Ah-Windu thought you might be able to assist with a recent problem that has arisen on the ship." She paused, wanting to read his reaction.

 

Tandaris' lips moved as he traced the words, "Ah-Windu," his brow furrowing. Ah-Windu? Windu... oh, Captain Corizon! "Er, yes? No? I mean, is this the same problem that I'm already in the thick of, or is there a newer problem that no one told me about? I am, of course, referring to the slight problem with the ship's computer and an alien device." He hoped they weren't talking about the same thing.

 

"Slight problem?" Eyebrows drew downward, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed. "I would not classify it as a slight problem. I'm quartered on Deck 4. Something tampered with the computer systems on Deck 4. Who do you think is blamed?" She leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared across the table at him. "I want to know what caused the disturbance and what you are doing about it. The Captain does not seem to believe that I had nothing to do with it."

 

Tandaris smiled and said, "Ah, that's good then. Because as far as I know, you don't. So if you know that I know that you're not, and Captain Corizon knows that you know that I know that you're not, we're good. No, actually, I discovered the source of the problem. However, I do not know if you have the proper clearance. I'm going to submit a report to Captain Corizon in the next few hours; you're welcome to request access to it from him. Until then... perhaps you ask Ops to assign you new quarters if this problem inconveniences you?"

 

Her gaze intensified. She stared at him for several long moments without saying anything. He was an odd one, she finally decided. Her attention shifted briefly to the markings around his head and neck that disappeared inside his uniform. Did they go all the way down his entire body? She inhaled to get a sense of him and found nothing but curiosity. No anxiousness or agitation. There was something... else, however, but she could not yet discern the source.

 

"The problem is not being stationed on Deck 4. The problem is that this issue has cast doubt upon my presence here. Clearance does not concern me. I want to know what happened and why the Captain thought I was involved. Who is trying to frame me?"

 

Tandaris repressed a sigh, not of anxiousness, nor of agitation, but just one of pure exasperation. It had been a long, long day, one in a series of long, long weeks, and it was going to get longer, he feared. He said, "I'm sorry, but I can't discuss it with you--the nature of the situation necessitates that it be classified. As for Captain Corizon's thoughts--who knows? He just told me to figure this out, and that's what I'm doing. I have no clue if this is part of a complicated plot to frame you, and I sure hope it isn't, because that would not be good."

 

He paused and sipped at his tea. "But just between you and me..." he continued, lowering his voice conspiratorially, "... off the record..."

 

Victria ground her teeth in frustration. It seemed that no matter what direction she turned, she was blocked by Starfleet’s rules and regulations. And the Captain offered her a position that would be bound by those same laws? The Hunger rose as she battled to keep her anger in check. The blue of her eyes intensified slightly. "Yessss?" Exaggerating her sibilants as she did when angered or excited.

 

With another implacable sip of tea, Tandaris said, "I found the source of the problem, and it seems to have been--inadvertently--my fault. You see, we were deeper into the quadrant earlier this year, and I had the opportunity to acquire some . . . merchandise. I purchased only one thing, what I thought was a piece of scrap, a tiny little alien device of some sort." The spiced tea lacked the kick he needed to keep awake right now. He would have to try something with more sugar later. "Now, I'm not saying anything for sure, here. But said device may or may not have been emitting low-levels of gamma radiation. And those low-levels of gamma radiation that said device may or may not have been emitting may or may not have actually been encoded transmissions of commands to the bio-neural gel packs. The aforementioned encoded transmissions may or may not have been the source of our problems."

 

Her reaction was almost immediate as he mentioned the device. She snarled, lips drawing back off her teeth to bare her fangs. "I wish to see this device. Speak with the Captain. Include it in your report. I do not care how you accomplish it, but get me clearance."

 

She leaned forward again to close the distance between them. "If it is what I think... you have larger problems on your hands than a simple computer virus." Why did these outsiders feel the need to collect things, especially from a planet they knew nothing about? Corizon had gotten himself in trouble by purchasing a small, harmless bit of jewelry. Tandaris seemed to have done the same with this device of his. Victria's hand wrapped around her glass and she had to restrain herself to keep from shattering it. At least she knew that this incident had little to do with her. No one, not even her, could have predicted that she would have survived the Al-Ucard attack against the Exaclibur. None of her people would know she was on board.

 

There was something about her tone, something about the way Victria curled her lips, that alerted Tandaris to how serious she was. This was not merely some diplomat trying to trample past Starfleet regulations and poke their nose where it didn’t belong; Victria actually knew what she was talking about. Tandaris had unconsciously released his grip on his mug, drawing back a bit as if that would dampen the effect of the warning. "I-I'll do that," he said. "I shall mention it to Captain Corizon." He paused and reached again for his tea. "Is that all?"

 

Sensing that he had gotten her meaning, Victria relaxed as much as she could under the circumstances. She released her glass and pushed it aside, suddenly not interested in the drink. Her Hunger and her emotions were safely restrained. Studying him for a moment, her gaze shifted from his face to his chest. He had something with him. Something inside him. That was the source of the overlapping that she'd sensed before. "You're carrying a parasite. Did you know?"

 

For a moment Tandaris' eyes widened. "What?" he exclaimed. His last physical hadn't revealed anything unusual, and he had not been off the ship since they returned from the Reliant. Then he caught her meaning and laughed. "Oh, oh no. No, that's not a parasite; it's my symbiont."

 

She stared at him blankly, not having any clue what he meant. Her brow furrowed slightly. "So you know it is there." She shrugged as it still had no meaning for her. No doubt she would use what little computer access she'd been given to look up his species and discover how, exactly, this symbiont was significant.

 

Smiling, Tandaris explained, "I'm a joined Trill. While both symbiont and host organism can live without each other, our society has found it mutually beneficial to join the two when possible, creating a new, merged personality. You might say that the new individual is more than the sum of his or her parts. My symbiont's name is Admiran--hence my last name--and I am not its first host. The symbionts are far longer-lived than hosts. I have the memories, experiences, knowledge of my past hosts and of Admiran himself. And through the hosts, the symbionts get to experience a universe that is otherwise usually beyond their reach."

 

Both brows rose as she listened. The snarl was gone, the anger drained away. Now she was only curious. "An interesting arrangement. I shall have to discover more of your species and those symbionts." Did they bleed? Al-Ucardians could absorb memories through the blood of their victims. Would it be the same for other species, she wondered? An intriguing thought.

 

She rose from her seat, peering down at him. "I'll not keep you any longer. I know that you probably wish to finish your report and inform the Captain. You know how to find me when you get clearance for me to take a look at that device of yours." She paused, a sardonic smirk tugging at her lips. "I'm quartered on Deck 4."

 

Tandaris nodded at her. "I'll do that. Pleasure meeting you." His eyes glanced back down at the tea, which he had managed to reduce to dregs. Ah, it was going to be a long night. Best to get it started soon.

 

He also stood up, and from there they parted ways. Tandaris would return to the science lab to run more tests and write that report. Maybe he would make it an all-nighter--he hadn't had one of those since his fourth year Academy multispacial engineering design final. Only this time, he wasn't trying to build a better mousetrap.

 

Because someone had beaten him to it, and suddenly he was the mouse who had to avoid the cheese.