Inquiring Minds ((t'Ksa/tr'Radaik))

[Kelton tr'Radaik 0]

Eating was not, if he was to be completely honest, the first thing on Kelton's mind. He needed another dose of defloxso bad enough that his stomach was twisting with it a little bit and if left unattended his fingers were beginning to twitch; the extended shift which had followed his late arrival to the medical bay this morning had taken a toll on him. But he forced himself to remain still in a vague approximation of his usual calm demeanor; he had work to do yet. Daise t'Ksa was accompanying him to a meal, which meant he had a chance — perhaps his only chance — to search out the sort of information which would placate tr'Usten. The craving-fuzz in his brain restrained him from thinking about what might happen after that, and at any rate, there would be na safety for either himself or the daise if he did na follow through.

 

So he picked carefully at the hlai stew before him at their table and tried to keep his expression relatively equivocal as he glanced up from it to t'Ksa who had just sat down with her own plate. "Hann'yyo for joining me," he said, trying to get them off on a comfortable foot. He wasn't sure how much of a wall he had erected with earlier ill behavior.

 

"Au asked. I was hungry." She shrugged a little, picking through the side dish of greens on her plate. "Hann'yyo for asking."

 

“Lleinn'yyo," he answered quietly, looking down again, finally forcing himself to fork a bit of the hlai down in spite of the protestations of his stomach. There was a short silence, and then he spoke again, as casually as possible. "Au keep late hours, rekkhai. I was surprised au were na yet off to au own business…" A little flicker of real curiosity burned behind the haze of his thoughts.

 

Ksa glanced up, a curious look upon her face. She was na used to io of her staff members questioning her motives for the long hours she spent in the medical bay. "Dangers of being a daise. Ship business does na stop...well...unless we're all dead... in which case it does stop. But under most circumstances, it does na end after a normal shift and I'm expected to know what's gone on with each of our duty shifts."

 

"True." Kelton had na really given much thought to what work must go into a daise's schedule (and less thought than usual, lately), but he supposed it must be considerable. "Au enjoy au work?" he asked after another thoughtful pause, watching her expression to see how she would respond to the questioning.

 

Morgana laid her fork down slowly and pushed her plate a way a bit. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Kelton," she used his first name for the first time since his little incident in sickbay. "Au are trying too hard." She leveled a look at him. "What's going on?"

 

It took a great effort of will not to freeze at the question, and he covered the moment by taking another, slightly-too-large bite of his stew. "I…na thing," he said lamely, wincing at how patently false that sounded. Elements…he wanted to tell her. He did na know her particularly well, but in light of how she had treated him during his first addiction, he was pretty sure he trusted her — but he could na afford to risk it. tr'Usten's punishment would be swift and painful…and she would suffer for his indiscretion too. "I am…merely curious, rekkhai," he went on slowly, allowing a slight sheepish expression to show in his features. "I would like to be on good terms with au…today nawithstanding."

 

"Relax, fhaen. Contrary to the rumors au hear, rumors that I must admit I helped populate, I do na bite." She laughed softly, favoring him with a rare smile. "And as I told au before, I accepted au's applogy. As long as au do na repeat the behavior again, quii is menkha."

 

Kelton smiled back faintly, almost involuntarily relaxing though his fingers still twitched a little around his utensils. Good…she was willing to talk. I only wish I could value that for its own sake. "I will na," he affirmed, then gave a slight grin that was na even entirely forced. "So…do au enjoy au work?"

 

"I would na be here if I did na." She was trying na to laugh now. "Try again."

 

He chuckled, trying not to let his pride be pricked at the obvious amusement in her eyes. "Alright then. What else do au enjoy? When au are na working the long shifts."

 

"g'Olf. And au?" She picked up her fork again, starting to pick at her main dish a little.

 

We're na here to talk about me. "Reading, primarily, I suppose," he said slowly, then added dryly, "Na such good exercise; I should get more. How long have au played?"

 

"Since I was dev. My father used to take us. Claimed the outdoor air would do us good. I believe he used it as an excuse to avoid the housekeeper during chore day." She popped a mouthful in her mouth. "Au have na interest in physcial pursuits?" She raised a brow as she look a sip from her ale glass.

 

"Na time, and na skill," Kelton said with a self-deprecating sort of snort. "Au father probably had the right of it, though. It's rare enough we get fresh air aboard ship, too." Housekeeper…she came from a good family, then. He might be able to learn as much by research as by questioning… "Did au grow up on ch'Rihan?"

 

"Ie," she nodded a little. "Au?"

 

"Ie. In Dartha." Fvadt politeness — I do na *need* au to show interest in me…be expansive, rekkhai, hta'dva, for both our sakes…"A nice enough place for a child though I do na miss it much now. Do au family still live there?"

 

"Ie," Ksa took another sip of her ale, she seemed to be smiling behind her glass as she reflected. "I'm sorry au do na miss it much. I can't imagine na missing my home and family." She chuckled softly. "What I hate is the sense of homesickness au get when au first leave on a mission. It used to last weeks when I was an Erein. Eventually, over time and experience, it fades. But even after all these years, there is still a touch present as we prepare to depart."

 

"Well, at least subspace allows au to keep in contact. Were au able to see them when we were there recently? I saw the vids of au award ceremony — some of the names called were clearly of au family." He was listening very closely now. This was information tr'Usten might be interested in. Names...relationships...something.

 

"Ie, for a bit. But not as much as I would have liked," She frowned a bit, starting to stir her food around on her plate. "Things were na....menkha in light of the nanogene incident."

 

"Na. They were na," he agreed with feeling, trying another bite of the stew tiredly. His stomach was complaining almost constantly now and he was not sure how much longer he could keep from showing signs of the drug cravings. t'Ksa was smart, and a maenek…she would pick up on it before anyone if he held out much longer. "I wish it were well behind us…"

 

"I'm afraid it won't be." She pushed her plate away, finding she had little appetite left. "Do au want to know why felt that perhaps au were telling the truth?"

 

The question threw him for a loop and he blinked, puzzled. "Ie."

 

She looked pained for a few moments, staring down at the table and the remains of her dinner for a few moments before speaking. "While I was on ch'Rihan," she took a deep breath. "I was approached by agents of the criminal investigative branch within the Galae. Apparently word about the nanogenes had spread and there was a bidding war going on to see who could get their hands on them first."

 

"I was asked to participate in the investigation for a time. I was shadowed by several members of the unit, made contact with individuals they thought were attempting to obtain the nanogenes covertly, and, well, made a verrul of myself in general." She took a long draw on her ale glass. "It turned my life upside down."

 

"So when au tell au were a victim of some of these individuals," She shuddered. "I...." She stopped, na sure if she could explain further.

 

"Au…?" he prompted, feeling his voice a little stuck in his throat. This conversation was suddenly striking too close for comfort.

 

"I was under protection of the Galae then, but still. When I found out a member of my team could have been subjected to..." She blanched. The guilt was palpable on her face. "I'm so very sorry, Kelton."

 

“Do na—" Kelton began sharply, then paused, calming his tone. "Do na feel guilty, rekkhai…fhaen. Au have na reason. Au treated me when I might easily have received mostly scorn and disbelief, and I am grateful for it." His own guilt burned in his chest. The people she spoke of were the people he was now working for, because he was too weak to resist the power of the drug they offered.

 

"Hann'yyo. But it is still hard to na feel guilty. None of this would have happened if I had just na been so fvadt...fvadt...I don't know." She sighed, pushing back from the table. "I'm sorry, tr'Radiak. I find I do na have much of an appetite any more. Perhaps we can do this again at another time, ie?"

 

Kelton was torn whether to protest for a moment, to try to continue the conversation and learn more before tr'Usten's next 'check-in'. But his stomach gave a hard, painful twist, a final rebellion against the introduction of food rather than drug, and he dropped his eyes to hide his expression, nodding once. "Ie…of course, rekkhai."

 

"Hann'yyo again, I will see au at au's next duty shift. Until next time." Ksa gave him a little bow of respect, then turned on her heels and left the mess hall.

 

Kelton waited a few moments until her footsteps had receded, then glanced over his shoulder to make sure that she had gone. Then he let out a slow, shaky breath and pushed himself to his feet, only with difficulty making himself walk, rather than run, to the door himself. Another dose of the drug waited in his quarters, and he would have to have it soon or the cravings would overwhelm him. He didn't want it, though, not emotionally, not for a moment — and less now than he had an hour ago. He hadn't learned as much as he would have liked from the short talk with tKsa…but there was time, and an opportunity now if he chose to pursue it, but he didn't want to. He would have to come up with some way to fight this situation…he couldn't let this go on.