Back from the Castle ...

[T'aral 0]

"I'm so glad you accepted our invitation, Doctor. I didn't want you to think we didn't appreciate the caution you took during the transfer."

 

T'Aral walked easily next to Doctor Warner. "The gesture is appreciated. You understand that I do not wish to malign your staff in any way. My concern was solely based in the fact that the crossing required a number of diversions; we would not have wished to make it all that way only to accidentally transfer the shipment into criminal hands."

 

"Yes, of course. Everyone understands the need for security; it's just that you caught the technicians by surprise. Repeated confirmation of security protocols is normally not needed."

 

T'Aral nodded. "If this was a normal cargo transfer it would not be. The responsibility is mine."

 

"No need for such talk. Now if you would walk this way ... " Warner looked up to see T'Aral visibly wincing. "Doctor - is there a problem?"

 

"No ... just an odor ... so strong ..." Warner caught T'Aral as she stumbled back slightly. "I am all right, only what is that odor?"

 

Warner sniffed the air. "Diluted sodium hypochlorite ... antiseptic bleach. We use it to help sterilize laboratory rooms prior to experiments; to this day nothing works better than a strong solution, but surely you've encountered it before?"

 

T'Aral nodded. "It was just overpowering; what is your concentration?"

 

"Half-percent for nominal cleaning ... it's far from concentrated." Warner began to look worried. "Are you sure you are all right?"

 

"Quite all right, doctor ... perhaps a visit to your hydroponic laboratory?"

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

T'Aral thought little of the incident as she returned to the Comanche Creek. The doctor was probably mistaken, or an enthusiastic staff member might have concentrated the bleach in an effort to assure a sterile laboratory ...

 

All thoughts stopped suddenly as she passed a workshop. It was Lieutenant Shalin's - one he maintained in a neverending effort to make life on board a starship slightly more decadent than most of the fleet was allowed to enjoy. From the odor, today's experiment entailed some kind of meat and spice combination. Stepping inside, she found the lieutenant grinning at a makeshift oven. Shan turned and offered a wave. "Hello doctor - something I can do for you?"

 

"You are cooking something?"

 

Shan smiled. "Yup, and it'll be ready right ... about ... now!" With a flourish he opened the oven, pulling out a rack of ribs slathered in barbeque sauce. "Practicing for an upcoming 'dinner night' for the ship. If I can get ... oh, about a dozen cooks, the ship will feast like kings! Here ... want a taste?"

 

While T'Aral was not a vegetarian, she tended to keep away from red or pork meat. Fish and chicken, simply prepared, sufficed quite adequately. Yet the aroma of Shan's experiment was intensely enticing. "Perhaps ... a little."

 

Shan quickly served her up a half-rack in traditional style. Although T'Aral maintained her dignity - eating with utensils rather than the more primitive manner she understood was proper for such a meal - her enthusiastic response to the ribs caught Shan by surprise. Within two ribs she had perfected the technique of separation such that no meat was left behind, and in a fit of focused eating had finished off the offered half-rack in less than three minutes. "Thank you, lieutenant; I am certain that your efforts will be well received. Excuse me, please."

 

Shan waved goodbye, only slightly startled at what he had seen. "Sure ... glad you liked it."

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

An hour later, T'Aral sat comfortably behind her desk, hands folded in her lap, while Ensign Khora waved a scanner about her. "So: we have an excess of caution, hyper-sensitive senses, and abnormal preferences in food. That doesn't sound like any of the diseases we were carrying ... " She examined the tricorder readout. "... and the scans confirm - no unidentified foreign bioagents. You're carrying nothing that isn't totally typical for a member of Starfleet."

 

T'Aral examined the tricorder's readings. "Slightly irregular hormone levels ... elevated synaptic activity ..."

 

Khora looked over the doctor's shoulder. "All well within Vulcan norms, though. Is it possible that it's just stress?"

 

T'Aral considered the suggestion. "Under ordinary circumstances I would dismiss the possibility. However, I have not been able to meditate in my usual manner since the mission began."

 

Khora nodded; having been raised by Vulcans, she understood the Vulcan preference for routine when it came to their mental disciplines. "We should probably let you settle back in and check in a day or two. If things haven't sorted themselves out by then ..."

 

T'Aral set the tricorder down. "Agreed; thank you for your help, Ensign ... and it would be appreciated if we could maintain this as an informal investigation?"

 

"What investigation?" Khora packed away the instruments. "A post-mission check-up is normal on missions like that. You're in fine health."

 

T'Aral noted Khora's exit and logged the necessary mission entries, avoiding mention of the abnormalities. No doubt the nurse was right; she would settle in her routine and be herself within two days.