Unification - Jeri Taylor [27]
Deanna honestly didn’t know just what it was she was seeking. She was sure, however, that if it presented itself, she would recognize it.
Riding the turbolift from the Enterprise transporter room, Klim Dokachin fought dizziness. Transporter technology had been introduced to his planet when they became members of the Federation, and he had not adapted well to it. He’d thought of holding firm in his insistence that the officers of the starship Enterprise come to him if they wanted his records so badly; but in the end he couldn’t resist the opportunity to see what the magnificent vessel looked like. When the turbolift door opened and he stepped onto the bridge, he was glad he’d done so.
He felt the eyes of the bridge crew as he took his time gazing around, and he was glad he had on his best outfit—one that held the emblems of merit he had achieved through his work. They would realize this was no raw novice they were dealing with.
As he inspected the bridge of the vast starship, he could sense the anxiousness of the crew. The tall one with the beard, with whom he’d spoken on the communicator, was particularly impatient. Well, he could wait. Klim Dokachin was doing this on his terms, and he wasn’t about to be hurried. “Thank you for coming on board, Mr. Dokachin.” That from the bearded one. He was trying to win him over; Klim could hear it in his voice. Well, maybe he’d be won over, maybe not. He’d take his time before he decided how he felt about that one.
He strolled down the ramp and inspected Ops and Conn. Everything was immaculate, shining, function-al. Dokachin thought it was perhaps the most beautiful ship he’d ever seen. “Not bad,” he said dryly.
The beard was following him around the bridge, trying to get his attention. “We’ve tied into your computers. If you could access the files…”
Dokachin continued his slow tour, inspecting the consoles and the forward turbolift. “I don’t usually see them in such good condition. By the time they get to me, they’re falling apart.”
From the comer of his eye, Dokachin could see the beard turn and look at someone—a woman in a form-fitting gray jumpsuit. She began to move toward him and Klim turned to meet her.
She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen.
He had never found humans particularly attractive —the way their skin was so tightly drawn over the bones of their faces looked positively painful—and this woman looked human. Though there was something different about her eyes—they were the darkest black imaginable. Her hair was black, too, but her skin was pale and delicate. Too taut, but delicate.
“Mr. Dokachin, we must find this ship—and you’re the only one who can help us.” Her voice was gentle, and her eyes were friendly as she smiled at him. And Klim Dokachin realized that what made her beautiful was not the way she looked, but what was within. There was a beautiful soul within this woman, and it shone from her like a radiant moonrise.
“Who are you?” he asked.
“Deanna Troi, ship’s counselor.”
Dokachin moved closer to her, nodded his head toward Riker. “He probably figures we don’t get to see women like you very often. And you might get more cooperation from me.” He smirked inwardly that he was one step ahead of the beard.
Then he looked into those black eyes again. “He’s probably right,” he said, and found himself moving to one of the consoles at the aft portion of the bridge, the beautiful woman following. The beard trailed along. Klim began expertly keying instructions into the computer, hoping that the woman would realize how proficient he was at his task.
“The T’Pau, wasn’t it? Vulcan registry…” He gestured as the information instantly leapt to the screen. “There. Logged in on Stardate 41334.”
“Where is the ship now?” Klim looked up at the sound of a different voice. This might be a nonhuman, he wasn’t sure. The skin was dark and the being wore a device around his eyes.
“Docked,