Chris Pike and Sarrin Chal
The two foreign languages Sarrin's people speak are -in real life- Dutch and Punjabi. In the context of the story, they are different dialects of Tzenkethi speech. I wish it made sense for them to speak Xavallen. Which is the language Nikita, Elana and the Atraxi Sarrin speak in my D.E.O. stories. Also while I have written the end of the story...decided on it at least, I have yet to type it up. Wanted to see if people could see it coming.
She was staring at him. Reclined on her sofa, hand at her mouth, she stared at him with acute interest as he struggled to break free of his handcuffs.
“Do you enjoy watching people struggle?” He demanded finally.
“When I see a human, they usually do not struggle for long.” She replied easily. The fur around her mouth twitching in delight. She stood up and sauntered closer to his cell. “Human behavior's inexplicable. Even if you get the restraints off you'll still be imprisoned by the force barrier. Why do you bother?”
“'We can't give up on hope...to do so is to give up on life itself'. Old Mojave wisdom.”
“Mojave, is that a race or a region?”
“A region.” He answered with some surprise.
She sat back on her sofa and began twirling a thin rope, looking not unlike a cat playing with a long blade of grass. “You are a curious one.” She continued lazily. “I've been here 70 years and have never met a human like you. It is a pity imperial law does not allow for exceptions.”
“How do you mean?”
“More inclined to ask questions before punching. More prone to defiance than pleading.”
“I'm not certain why I should be...” She pinched the rope with the flat of her thumb and his body instantly seized, as if someone had taken hold of his back and yanked upward.
“You do not seem to understand much of anything. It is...most curious actually.”
She lifted the rope as if examining the end and he felt dizzy, light-headed, as if floating in the air.
She pressed her claw into the rope and suddenly Chris felt the point of a sword against his throat. He knew that if she dug her claw into the fabric of the rope, he would feel the sword slicing his vocal cords.
“Please...” She dropped the rope. Instantly the pain ceased. To his surprise he wasn't even breathing hard.
“Kochalk Mir-ach.” A harsh voice uttered from behind her. “Are you done playing with your food?!” the voice insisted.
“I'm well aware of my duties.” She snapped, apparently to thin air. “I will leave him for the officers.” Then she was gone.
Chris shook his head as if to clear it. He sat back on the stone ledge that was meant to be his bed. Something was incredibly wrong. He did not know what. One thought troubled him more than anything: How can I tell them what the hell I'm doing here, if I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here?
When next he opened his eyes he had a new visitor. One that was not as clearly female as his prior guard and who quite clearly was a person of authority.
“You've made quite an impression there human.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“It is what you are, for starters. Now tell me who you are.”
“My name is Captain Christopher Pike.” The man said almost professionally.
“A captain? That is unusual. Captain of what ship?”
“The USS Enterprise.”
“Impossible. There has not been a human captain of that ship for decades.”
This female, if it was a female, had darker orange fur on her paws and her face had streaks of black. Her voice was smoother than the other guard, reflecting maturity and experience.
“And what is your name.” Christopher intoned.
“I am Solivar.” The officer replied simply. It could not be doubted she was an officer in whatever star-fleet she served. She stared at him impassively for several minutes.
“What is it?” He asked shortly.
“I'm trying to decide what use to make of you.”
“I take it you're not used to troubling yourself with human prisoners?”
“You would be incorrect. Although I admit I find you more intriguing than most.”
Her lieutenant stepped forward. She raised her hand sharply. “Da, dobro znam što biste učinili s njim. da je bilo po vašem. Ali moja volja prevladava.” Her subordinate backed away.
“That pup had his ideas what to do with me?” Christopher guessed.
“Quite right. But my will prevails on such matters.”
“So what are you planning on doing with me?” 'God this feels freakishly familiar!'
“Bring Sarrin back. See what she can learn. And if she's as ready as she believes ” Solivar turned to the 'pup'. “Stay here until she returns; do not touch him.”
“Why are you bothering to speak in English?”
“I see no reason to hide this part of our intentions from you.” Solivar answered.
“How considerate of you.” He did not say this with sarcasm, simply acknowledging the truth of his statement. These people were thoughtful, in their own way.
Sarrin, as was apparently her name, stared hard at her prisoner. There was a sharpness, a set seriousness to her face. She sipped from an ornate white mug.
“I take it this is not a 'carrot and stick' situation?” The man said from inside his cell.
“Your words make no sense to me.” She replied shortly.
“Are you Sarrin?” The woman nodded. “Is it your function to try to coax answers out of me gently while your superior tries to force them out of my throat.”
“I see your meaning. You want to know if I am being falsely nice, if I am simply playing with you. In other words if my restraint and interest are merely a facade.”
“I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes.”
“I am trying to study you. I want you to make sense to me. That is my motivation.”
“I am going to assume English is not your first language.”
“What is 'English'?”
“Ah...nevermind.”
“Did they not give you anything to eat yet?” Sarrin inquired. Chris shook his head. She began tapping on her console. “I'm going to give you some lombark meal.” A thick brown mug, wider and taller than her own appeared on the table in front of her. She looked up at him sharply. “You have to get to the back of that cell or I can't feed you.” Chris stood against the side wall of his cell and placed his hands against the back wall. “It'll only be half a day's ration.” She continued as if there had been no interruption. She slid the mug across the floor, it stopped just inside the cell. He picked up the mug and looked at the thick brown liquid inside it.
“You're not drinking coffee are you?” He asked with a light humor.
“No. I'm not sure what you'd call this. It's a drinkable food. Liquid bread?
“Military rations?” Chris guessed. Sarrin did not reply. Chris drank half of the mug in peaceful silence. No small feat when ones hands are bound. “Thank you.” He offered kindly.
“Welcome.” Sarrin returned. She sat on her sofa and began fingering the rope again.
“Why are you doing this?” Chris urged.
“Surely you're intelligent enough to figure that out.” Sarrin answered, almost playfully.
“I don't mean your kind, I mean you personally. Your compatriot was wrong. You are not playing with your food. You don't even want to be doing this. So why are you?”
“I'm not obliged to tell you anything. Although I will admit you continue to surprise me.
Eventually I WILL figure out what makes you so frustratingly unique.”
“Don't you mean 'frustratingly defiant'?”
“That's not the only thing that makes you so..To-Ka!” Sarrin barked, holding her hand out to him, palm flat as if commanding him to stop. Which he quickly realized is exactly what she was doing. “Do yourself a favor, don't try anything.” She told him sternly. She reached to her left, pressing her palm flat against the arm of the sofa. The 'force barrier' was restored.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Chris inquired. “Leaving the barrier down.”
“No.” Sarrin answered simply. “I am surprised you didn't try to escape.”
“I won't lie and tell you it didn't cross my mind. But I was a little distracted.”
“Your honesty is refreshing. It usually requires much encouragement to get a straight-forward answer out of our prisoners.”
“Okay, I'm not kidding here, what do you want from us?!” Chris near-barked.
“ 'Us'?” Sarrin replied.
“Me. What do you want from me.” Chris rushed, covering.
“You said 'us'. Are there more like you? There are. Your concern for them is evident. How many more of you are there?” Chris did not answer. She wrapped her hand around the rope. Still Chris did not speak. “How many humans came with you? Surely you must realize there are things that make this,” She lifted the rope gently. Chris braced himself, but no pain came. “feel like a slap on the wrist.” She pulled gently on the rope until it stretched taunt. Chris's throat tightened as he felt his arms bent backward. All she would have to do was pull a little farther and the tendons in his shoulders would pull themselves apart, as his arms were torn even farther back...As far as his body was concerned. And his mind would agree. Or was it the other way around? As if reading the question from his mind, Sarrin explained. “It's called traumatic hypnosis. Your mind imagines that I hurt you and your body responds to its signals. Quite effective, yes?” Chris didn't respond except to nod. Sarrin unceremoniously dropped the rope again. She leaned to her right. Her eyes closed.
“May I ask you a question?” Chris said with sincere respect.
“You mean beyond that one? You can ask.”
“Is Solivar testing you?”
“In a way. They wanted to see how I would handle an interrogation, what methods I would employ and how long I could stay here. It's more like taking a final exam in order to accept promotion than testing my loyalty. The only thing is, I can't think of any questions to ask you. None that can't wait 4 hours anyway.” She yawned.
“Ne napuštajte svoju stanicu!” A harsh voice said over the intercom.
“Who said I was leaving?” Sarrin replied in English. The doors sealed themselves and the lights dimmed to half their intensity. “TAC: 2-3-9 seventy-four Alpha Orion-3. I set the room at 74 degrees. It's all I can really do to make you comfortable.” Sarrin explained as she stretched herself on the floor her feet toward Chris' cell, her head toward the couch, her left-leg bent so her foot was flat on the tile. “Kether Prax. Nox.” The room went completely dark. Chris lay down with his eyes to the ceiling. His gaze drifted to Sarrin. Is this a test from her? Does she expect me to try to run? She wants to see if I will try to run. Is it a good idea. Probably not. Do I want to get her into trouble? I don't think so. It is strange, I would expect a feline to lie on her side with all fours on the ground, or on her stomach like a cheetah. Not on her back like that. 'she doesn't' live on all fours' his mind answered itself. 'She's sleeping in such a way that she can jump to her feet in an instant if alarmed or startled. She's resting, not sleeping...'at the ready'.
All of this he said in his head and all of which made sense to him.
“Captain Pike, are you there?” La'an's voice was barely perceptible in the muffled air. Her voice was coming from somewhere to Chris' left.
“Over here.” He whispered urgently.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I'm fine. In a cell, otherwise I'm fine.”
“Do Not. Move.” Sarrin's cold voice rang out.
'Of course. Sarrin was waiting for this. Knowing there were others on this ship with me, they would wait for someone to try to rescue me. And cats see much better in the dark than humans.'
“TAC. Lagan, mekan, ali jasan.” The lights came on. Sarrin was staring hard at La'an, her face impassive as before. “For your own sake human, do. Not. Move.” Sarrin repeated.
La'an followed the woman's very sound advice and held herself still.
“I congratulate you. This was a most impressive trap.” Chris said with a little bitterness.
Sarrin did not even spare him a glance. “Tar-ek dahl. No senta Ca-rine Me-tai.” A few moments later another guard came in.
“Herinner mij eraan om nooit aan jouw wijsheid te twijfelen.” The guard said to Sarrin.
“You might as well speak in their language.” Sarrin said in English.
“Waar sturen ze die idioten heen, naar die bevroren woestenij die is gereserveerd voor hen die hun plichten niet hebben vervuld?” The guard replied.
“Hell. And I take your meaning.” Sarrin answered instantly.
“Translation please?” Chris prompted respectfully.
“He asked what was the name of the frozen wasteland traitors and liars are sent to.”
“Hell isn't a frozen..”
“I take his meaning. Hell would freeze over before he spoke our language for our benefit.”
La'an turned to Sarrin. “What is your name and what have you done to my captain?”
“He really is a captain of a starship. Interesting. Other than arresting his movement slightly, we have done nothing to him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“No, she's telling the truth. I've been in the cell 3 days and they forgot to give me my ration last night. Beyond that they haven't really done anything to me.”
“Wat zullen we met deze andere doen?” The guard inquired, indicating the female human. Sarrin replied in a long string of her native language, lifting her arm in front of her, with her fingers raised, as if holding a snow globe. The guard smiled. “Duur?”
Sarrin tilted her head, considering the question. “TAC: What is the clock?”
“The time is 0-seven hundred hours.”
“Five.” Sarrin decided. “But not yet. What is your name?”
“La'an.” The human woman answered honestly.
“La'an. That is not a normal human name?” Sarrin pondered. “Not that it matters. How many more of you are there?” Neither human spoke. Sarrin turned to the human she found so fascinating.
“KRIS! How many more humans like you are there here?”
“My entire crew is 'like me'. I believe La'an is the only one to come with me.”
Sarrin tilted her head to one side. “This I judge to be true. Harsh though we can be, we are not liars. Therefore it is all the harder to deceive us. La'an, my lieutenant is going to take you to a very small room. Resist and you might not see your captain again.”
“You can trust her on that.” Chris advised. La'an was led away quietly.
“Are you an exception or a specialist?” Chris prompted.
“Explain.”
“You are more inclined to ask questions before punching. And accustomed to both defiance and pleading. You don't seem to have much of a stomach for outright interrogation or torture. Are you...an outcast among your people or simply of a different caste?”
Sarrin dipped her smallest finger into a bottle of oil, spread its oil under her nose and across her left wrist. “more of the second one. Some aliens respond to force, some to reasoned persuasion and some take some time figuring out to learn an approach that will help. That is my occupation. Studying our enemies helps us to understand them and my superiors understand that. But studying our enemies isn't all we do here.”
“Why do you call us your enemies?”
“I mean studying humans. It's not something that requires particular effort or attention or time. We've had ample chances already and understand them thoroughly. ___ Or so we thought until you showed up. I'm not a wounded heart or anything.”
“Bleeding heart.” Christopher corrected automatically.
“You were right you know?”
“About what?”
“You did not get your ration last night.” She placed her hand on the table, which he noticed stretched the lentgh between her sofa and his cell. “Nosiette. Ca-rinn tomai-dahl.” A large mug of the 'liquid bread' appeared in front of her. This had an aroma of hazelnut to it. She motioned him to back away. He did, his back against one wall, his hands against another, as before. She placed the mug on the floor and stepped back, keeping her eyes on him, more specifically, on his shoulders to his waist. The force barrier was again restored. She put the bottle back on the table and stretched herself on the floor much like she had done, except her feet were toward the sofa, her head was toward his cell and she was on her side. Almost 40 minutes passed in this way.
“Where did you send her? Please I don't care what recompense you demand for it, just tell me what's happening to her.” Sarrin took a breath and let it out slowly. “I take your meaning. You want me to calm down. I'll try. Please will you tell me what is happening to my second officer?”
“She is being HELD in a very small space where all she can see is the ceiling.” Sarrin held up her hand, fingers apart elbow bent. Pike saw the similarity between that pose and holding something high above your head.
“She is on a pedestal high enough in the air there is little space between her and the ceiling.” Chris reasoned. “And will remain so for at least 5 hours.”
“We will check on her every five hours. But the point of the zero room is that she has nothing to see and nothing to hear. What happens to her after her second check in is up to you. Do you fully grasp my meaning?”
Chris nodded sadly. “Her continued safety is entirely dependent on my cooperation.”
"And you don't have to ask. We definitely should take a break."
"For a scientist you're a pretty good diplomat."
"Candor and realism. Make for good tools for a scientist as well. And I deal with as many aliens as a politician would. Probably more.”
"Noted and accepted." Chris slid to the floor and sat back against the wall, facing the alien scientist. He wanted to call her his friend, he wanted to curl up and sleep. The handcuffs got in the way of both. “You were right you before. It would be useless for me to get the restraints off if I'm still stuck behind the force barrier. The reverse is also true. If I am stuck behind the barrier, the restraints are useless.”
“Is this you're way of saying 'I speak only as freely as my bonds allow'?”
“If you want to look at it that way. I'm just saying that if you don't need them for anything except to make sure I don't escape...you don't need them.” Sarrin stared at him, uncomprehending. “I didn't know if they served any function other than as restraints. If they...hurt.” Sarrin took a bullet-shaped device from her belt, as long as Chris' index finger and pressed the tip. The handcuffs released themselves.
"Again, I thank you.”
“Is there anything else you want...”
“If you are sincerely asking..”
“Don't ev-er doubt my sincerity.” Sarrin barked.
“My apologies. May I have something to drink, something cool to my throat?”
“You speak the language of diplomacy very well. A language I understand.”
“It helps to be talking to someone who's just as good at it.”
“Toren Kall. Notsanta E-Se-kaia nesta-Zaki.” Sarrin said to thin air.
“Which means exactly what?”
“I asked my attendant to bring me a human drink from the cooler.”
Sarrin did not speak and Chris did not speak to her until the attendant came carrying two purple glasses, translucent and cone shaped. She put one to her lips. “Dasar bodoh. Keluar dari sini, sekarang! Gėrimas iš vynuogių, o ne iš grūdų. Šį kartą tai padaryk teisingai!”
Her subordinate looked at her with respect. Her prisoner looked at her as if she were insane. “Do I WANT to know what you just said?” Chris asked with apprehension.
“It roughly translates to 'You idiot, you brought me the wrong one!' I asked for a drink made from grapes, not one made from grains.”
“You're entire race are truth-speakers, aren't you?”
“Our soldiers are yes. It's part of our military code of honor. And I take it you have a particular question you wish to ask me.”
“Yes. What you're doing with your hand...flexing your fingers, rubbing your thumb against your fingertips. Do all of your people do that?”
“Those who have seen combat, and who lived in environments not suitable to our kind. The planetary conditions of most worlds we investigate are not entirely compatible with our biology. After weeks and months of exposure to barely habitable environments our bones... hurt.” Sarrin looked sad for a moment. It was a curious expression to see in her features. “And I really should not be sharing information.”
“I understand what you mean. But tell me one more thing.” Chris paused, Sarrin gave a 'go ahead' motion with her head. “when you say 'investigate' do you mean for colonization or conquest?”
“Colonization. And I'm sure you guessed. Now get some sleep. You will need your strength tomorrow. Trust me.”
“At this point it wouldn't occur to me not to trust you.”
Seven decades.” Chris said suddenly. “You said you 'hadn't seen anything different'...in seven decades. What year is this?”
“By your calendar it would be 2571.”
Christopher Pike swallowed hard.
His guard stared at him as he struggled to break free of his handcuffs.
“Do you enjoy watching people struggle?” He demanded finally.
“When I see a human, they usually do not struggle for long.” She replied easily. The fur around her mouth twitching in delight. She stood up and sauntered closer to his cell. “Human behavior's inexplicable. Even if you get the restraints off you'll still be imprisoned by the force barrier. Seriously, why do you bother?”
“'We can't give up on hope...to do so is to give up on life itself'. Old Mojave wisdom.”
“Mojave, is that a race or a region?”
“A region.” He answered with some surprise.
She sat back on her sofa and began twirling a thin rope, looking not unlike a cat playing with a long blade of grass. “You are a curious one. I've been here 70 years and have never met a human like you. It is a pity imperial law does not allow for exceptions.”
“How do you mean?”
“More inclined to ask questions before punching. More prone to defiance than pleading.”
“I'm not certain why I should be...” She pinched the rope with the flat of her thumb and his body instantly seized, as if someone had taken hold of his back and yanked upward.
“You do not seem to understand much of anything. It is...most curious actually.”
She lifted the rope, examining the end and he felt light-headed, as if floating in the air.
She pressed her claw into the rope and suddenly Chris felt the point of a sword against his throat. He knew that if she dug her claw into the fabric of the rope, he would feel the sword slicing his vocal cords.
“Please...” She dropped the rope. Instantly the pain ceased. To his surprise he wasn't even breathing hard.
“Kochalk Mir-ach.” A harsh voice uttered from behind her. “Are you done playing with your food?!” the voice insisted.
“I'm well aware of my duties.” She snapped, apparently to thin air. “I will leave him for the officers.” Then she was gone.
Chris shook his head as if to clear it. He sat back on the stone ledge that was meant to be his bed. Something was incredibly wrong. He did not know what. One thought troubled him more than anything: How can I tell them what the hell I'm doing here, if I don't even know what the hell I'm doing here?
When next he opened his eyes he had a new visitor. One that was not as clearly female as his prior guard and who quite clearly was a person of authority.
“You've made quite an impression there human.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“It is what you are, for starters. Now tell me who you are.”
“My name is Captain Christopher Pike.” The man said almost professionally.
“A captain? That is unusual. Captain of what ship?”
“The USS Enterprise.”
“Impossible. There has not been a human captain of that ship for decades.”
This female, if it was a female, had darker orange fur on her paws and her face had streaks of black. Her voice was smoother, reflecting maturity and experience.
“And what is your name.” Christopher intoned.
“I am Solivar.” The officer replied simply. It could not be doubted she was an officer in whatever star-fleet she served. She stared at him impassively for several minutes.
“What is it?” He asked shortly.
“I'm trying to decide what use to make of you.”
“I take it you're not used to troubling yourself with human prisoners?”
“You would be incorrect. Although I admit I find you more intriguing than most.”
Her lieutenant stepped forward. She raised her hand sharply. “Da, dobro znam što biste učinili s njim. da je bilo po vašem. Ali moja volja prevladava.” The guard backed away.
“That pup had his ideas what to do with me?” Christopher guessed.
“Quite right. But my will prevails on such matters.”
“So what are you planning on doing with me?” 'God this feels freakishly familiar!'
“Bring Sarrin back. See what she can learn. And if she's as ready as she believes ” Solivar turned to the 'pup'. “Stay here until she returns; do not touch him.”
“Why are you bothering to speak in English?”
“I see no reason to hide this part of our intentions from you.” Solivar answered.
“How considerate of you.” He did not say this with sarcasm, simply acknowledging the truth of his statement. These people were thoughtful, in their own way.
Sarrin, as was apparently her name, stared hard at her prisoner. There was a sharpness, a set seriousness to her face. She sipped from an ornate white mug.
“I take it this is not a 'carrot and stick' situation?” The man said from inside his cell.
“Your words make no sense to me.” She replied shortly.
“Are you Sarrin?” The woman nodded. “Is it your function to try to coax answers out of me gently while your superior tries to force them out of my throat.”
“I see your meaning. You want to know if I am being falsely nice, if I am simply playing with you. In other words if my restraint and interest are merely a facade.”
“I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes.”
“I am trying to study you. I want you to make sense to me. That is my motivation.”
“I am going to assume English is not your first language.”
“What is 'English'?”
“Ah...nevermind.”
“Did they not give you anything to eat yet?” Sarrin inquired. Chris shook his head. She began tapping on her console. “I'm going to give you some lombark meal.” A thick brown mug, wider and taller than her own appeared on the table in front of her. She looked up at him sharply. “You have to get to the back of that cell or I can't feed you.” Chris stood against the side wall of his cell and placed his hands against the back wall. “It'll only be half a day's ration.” She continued as if there had been no interruption. She slid the mug across the floor, it stopped just inside the cell. He picked up the mug and looked at the thick brown liquid inside it.
“You're not drinking coffee are you?” He asked with a light humor.
“No. I'm not sure what you'd call this. It's a drinkable food. Liquid bread?”
“Military rations?” Sarrin did not reply. Chris drank half of the mug in peaceful silence. No small feat when ones hands are bound. “Thank you.” He offered kindly.
“Welcome.” Sarrin returned. She sat on her sofa and began fingering the rope again.
“Why are you doing this?” Chris urged.
“Surely you're intelligent enough to figure that out.” Sarrin answered, almost playfully.
“I don't mean your kind, I mean you personally. Your compatriot was wrong. You are not playing with your food. You don't even want to be doing this. So why are you?”
“I'm not obliged to tell you anything. Although I will admit you continue to surprise me.
Eventually I WILL figure out what makes you so frustratingly unique.”
“Don't you mean 'frustratingly defiant'?”
“That's not the only thing that makes you so..To-Ka!” Sarrin barked, holding her hand out to him, palm flat as if commanding him to stop. Which he quickly realized is exactly what she was doing. “Do yourself a favor, don't try anything.” She told him sternly. She pressed her palm flat against the arm of the sofa. The 'force barrier' was restored.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Chris inquired. “Leaving the barrier down.”
“No.” Sarrin answered simply. “I am surprised you didn't try to escape.”
“I won't lie and tell you it didn't cross my mind. But I was a little distracted.”
“Your honesty is refreshing. It usually requires much encouragement to get a straight-forward answer out of our prisoners.”
“Okay, I'm not kidding here, what do you want from us?!” Chris near-barked.
“ 'Us'?” Sarrin replied.
“Me. What do you want from me.” Chris rushed, covering.
“You said 'us'. Are there more like you? There are. Your concern for them is evident. How many more of you are there?” Chris did not answer. She wrapped her hand around the rope. Still Chris did not speak. “How many humans came with you? Surely you must realize there are things that make this,” She lifted the rope gently. Chris braced himself, but no pain came. “feel like a slap on the wrist.” She pulled gently on the rope until it stretched taunt. Chris's throat tightened as he felt his arms bent backward. All she would have to do was pull a little farther and the tendons in his shoulders would pull themselves apart, as his arms were torn even farther back...As far as his body was concerned. And his mind would agree. Or was it the other way around? As if reading the question from his mind, Sarrin explained. “It's called traumatic hypnosis. Your mind imagines that I hurt you and your body responds to its signals. Quite effective, yes?” Chris didn't respond except to nod. Sarrin unceremoniously dropped the rope again. She leaned to her right. Her eyes closed.
“May I ask you a question?” Chris said with sincere respect.
“You mean beyond that one? You can ask.”
“Is Solivar testing you?”
“In a way. They wanted to see how I would handle an interrogation, what methods I would employ and how long I could stay here. It's more like taking a final exam in order to accept promotion than testing my loyalty. The only thing is, I can't think of any questions to ask you. None that can't wait 4 hours anyway.” She yawned.
“Ne napuštajte svoju stanicu!” A harsh voice said over the intercom.
“Who said I was leaving?” Sarrin replied in English. The doors sealed themselves and the lights dimmed to half their intensity. “TAC: 2-3-9 seventy-four Alpha Orion-3. I set the room at 74 degrees. It's all I can really do to make you comfortable.” Sarrin explained as she stretched herself on the floor her feet toward Chris' cell, her head toward the couch, her left-leg bent so her foot was flat on the tile. “Kether Prax. Nox.” The room went completely dark. Chris lay down with his eyes to the ceiling. His gaze drifted to Sarrin. Is this a test from her? Does she expect me to try to run? She wants to see if I will try to run. Is it a good idea. Probably not. Do I want to get her into trouble? I don't think so. It is strange, I would expect a feline to lie on her side with all fours on the ground, or on her stomach like a cheetah. Not on her back like that. 'she doesn't' live on all fours' his mind answered itself. 'She's sleeping in such a way that she can jump to her feet in an instant if alarmed or startled. She's resting, not sleeping...'at the ready'.
All of this he said in his head and all of which made sense to him.
“Captain Pike, are you there?” La'an's voice was barely perceptible in the muffled air. Her voice was coming from somewhere to Chris' left.
“Over here.” He whispered urgently.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I'm fine. In a cell, otherwise I'm fine.”
“Do Not. Move.” Sarrin's cold voice rang out.
'Of course. Sarrin was waiting for this. Knowing there were others on this ship with me, they would wait for someone to try to rescue me. And cats see much better in the dark than humans.'
“TAC. Lagan, mekan, ali jasan.” The lights came on. Sarrin was staring hard at La'an, her face impassive as before. “For your own sake human, do. Not. Move.” Sarrin repeated.
La'an followed the woman's very sound advice and held herself still.
“I congratulate you. This was a most impressive trap.” Chris said with a little bitterness.
Sarrin did not even spare him a glance. “Tar-ek dahl. No senta Ca-rine Me-tai.” A few moments later another guard came in.
“Herinner mij eraan om nooit aan jouw wijsheid te twijfelen.” The guard said to Sarrin.
“You might as well speak in their language.” Sarrin said in English.
“Waar sturen ze die idioten heen, naar die bevroren woestenij die is gereserveerd voor hen die hun plichten niet hebben vervuld?” The guard replied.
“Hell. And I take your meaning.” Sarrin answered instantly.
“Translation please?” Chris prompted respectfully.
“He asked what was the name of the frozen wasteland traitors and liars are sent to.”
“Hell isn't a frozen..”
“I take his meaning. Hell would freeze over before he spoke our language for our benefit.”
La'an turned to Sarrin. “What is your name and what have you done to my captain?”
“He really is a captain of a starship. Interesting. Other than arresting his movement slightly, we have done nothing to him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“No, she's telling the truth. I've been in the cell 3 days and they forgot to give me my ration last night. Beyond that they haven't really done anything to me.”
“Wat zullen we met deze andere doen?” The guard inquired, indicating the female human. Sarrin replied in a long string of her native language, lifting her arm in front of her, with her fingers raised, as if holding a snow globe. The guard smiled. “Duur?”
Sarrin tilted her head, considering the question. “TAC: What is the clock?”
“The time is 0-seven hundred hours.”
“Five.” Sarrin decided. “But not yet. What is your name?”
“La'an.” The human woman answered honestly.
“La'an. That is not a normal human name?” Sarrin pondered. “Not that it matters. How many more of you are there?” Neither human spoke. Sarrin turned to the human she found so fascinating. “KRIS! How many more humans like you are there here?”
“My entire crew is 'like me'. As far as I know, La'an is the only one to come with me.”
Sarrin tilted her head to one side. “This I judge to be true. Harsh though we can be, we are not liars. Therefore it is all the harder to deceive us. La'an, my lieutenant is going to take you to a very small room. Resist and you might not see your captain again.”
“You can trust her on that.” Chris advised. La'an was led away by the guard.
“Are you an exception or a specialist?” Chris prompted.
“Explain.”
“You are more inclined to ask questions before punching. And accustomed to both defiance and pleading. You don't seem to have much of a stomach for outright interrogation or torture. Are you an outcast or simply of a different caste?”
Sarrin dipped her smallest finger into a bottle of oil, spread its oil under her nose and across her left wrist. “More the second one. “Some aliens respond to force, some to reasoned persuasion and some take some time figuring out to learn an approach that will help. That is what my unit is for. Studying our enemies helps us to understand them and most of my superiors understand that. But studying our enemies isn't all we do here.”
“Why do you call us your enemies?”
“I mean studying humans. Humans don't need research and examination. We've learned enough to understand them thoroughly. ___ Or so we thought until you showed up. I'm not a wounded heart or anything..”
“Bleeding heart.” Christopher corrected automatically.
“You were right you know?”
“About what?”
“You did not get your ration last night.” She placed her hand on the table, which he now noticed stretched between her sofa and his cell. “Nosiette. Ca-rinn tomai-dahl.” A large mug of the 'liquid bread' appeared in front of her. This had an aroma of hazelnut to it. She motioned him to back away from the force barrier. He did, his back against one wall, his hands against another, as before. She placed the mug on the floor in front of him and backed away, keeping her eyes on his shoulders to his waist. She placed her hand on the armrest and the force barrier was once again restored. She put the bottle back on the table and stretched herself on the floor much like she had done, except her feet were toward the sofa, her head was toward his cell and she was on her side.
“Where did you send her? Please I don't care what recompense you demand for it, just tell me what's happening to her.” Sarrin took a breath and let it out slowly. “I take your meaning. You want me to calm down. I'll try. Please will you tell me what is happening to my second officer?”
“She is being HELD in a very small space where all she can see is the ceiling.” Sarrin held up her hand, fingers apart but pointed upward, elbow bent. Pike now saw the similarity between that pose and holding something in you hand.”
“She is on a pedestal high in the air there is little space between her and the ceiling. And will remain so for at least 5 hours.”
“We will check on her every five hours. But the point of the zero room is that she has nothing to see and nothing to hear. What happens to her after her second check in is up to you. Do you fully grasp my meaning?”
Chris nodded. “Her continued safety is entirely dependent on my continued cooperation.”
“You were right you before.” Chris told her calmly. “Getting the restraints off is useless if I'm stuck behind the force barrier. Likewise however, with the force barrier activated, I don't need the restraints.”
“Is this 'I speak only as freely as my bonds allow'?”
“If you want to look at it that way. I just meant if you don't need them for anything except to make sure I don't escape...you don't need them.”
Sarrin took a small, bullet shaped device from her belt, about as long as Chris' index finger and pressed the tip. The handcuffs released themselves.
“Is there anything else you want...”
“If you are sincerely asking..”
“Don't ev-er doubt my sincerity.” Sarrin barked.
“My apologies. May I have something to drink, something cool to my throat?”
“You know the language of diplomacy. You speak in terms you know I understand.”
“It helps to be talking to someone who's just as good at it.”
“Toren Kall. Notsanta E-Se-kaia nesta-Zaki.” Sarrin said to thin air.
“Which means exactly what?”
“I asked my attendant to bring me a human drink from the cooler.”
Sarrin did not speak and Chris did not speak to her until the attendant came in carrying two cone-shaped purple glasses. Sarrin put oen to her mouth. “Dasar bodoh. Keluar dari sini, sekarang! Gėrimas iš vynuogių, o ne iš grūdų. Šį kartą tai padaryk teisingai!”
Her subordinate looked at her with increased respect. Her prisoner looked at her as if she were insane. “Do I WANT to know what you just said?” Chris asked, with a small bit of apprehension.
“It roughly translates to 'You idiot, you brought me the wrong one!' I asked for a drink made from grapes, not one made from grains.”
“You're entire race are truth-speakers, aren't you?”
“Our soldiers are yes. It's part of our military code of honor. And I take it you have a particular question you wish to ask me.”
“Yes. What you're doing with your hand...flexing your fingers, rubbing your thumb against your fingertips. Do all of your people do that?”
“Those who have seen combat, who lived in environments not suitable to our kind. The planetary conditions of most worlds we investigate are not entirely compatible with our biology. After weeks and months of exposure to barely habitable environments our bones... hurt.” Sarrin looked sad for a moment. It was a curious expression to see in her features. “And I really should not be the one sharing information.”
“I understand. But one thing more. 'investigate', you mean for colonization?”
“Yes. Now get some sleep. You will need your strength tomorrow. Trust me on that.”
“At this point it wouldn't occur to me not to trust you.”
