The Dyak

Part 2 Two weeks later: 

"Why?" the young Human male, Clyde Turner, asked, bewildered. His red jumpsuit looked darker in the dimness of the bar. 
"Do you know him by sight?" the Hardian nobleman insisted harshly, ignoring the Human's question. His ebony eyes glittered. 
"Sure. he's that stuck up Dyak who works in the Sick Bay's labs," The Human replied bitterly. "None of us are good enough for him to spit on much less associate with. He's too pure for us to touch!" He spewed forth a line of obscenities. 

Only when he had finished did the old, wrinkled Alien from Hardia speak again. "Would you like to earn credits? Enough to set you up for life?" 
"Sure; Who wouldn't?" Turner stared in avarice at the old, grey creature who spoke so freely about giving away credits. 
"He has done an injustice to my son. I want him punished." 
The Human's eyes lit up. "Punished? How?" 
"That is up to you. But afterwards, I want him dead." 
"Kill him?" His voice was too loud and other bar clientele turned to look at them. 
"Be quiet you Human fool!" The Endeavor crew member grew warm. "Are you able to do it?" 
"I never go down with him. He's a yeoman and I..." 
"Bah!" the alien snarled as he rose from his chair. "I've wasted my time speaking with you!" 
"Wait! I know someone who can arrange for us to go down together. He'll help with the punishment; he'll even do the killing." 
"Will he?" The Hardian nobleman's glance was shrewd, investigative. "If he quietly dies, the injustice he has done to my son will cease, but if it becomes known I am behind his death, the trouble will continue and expand to me. My people will be quick to avenge this. Do you understand? 
"If they find out you paid us to do it, your tail will get burned." 
"Precisely, and so will yours.'" 
"Why choose me? Why not a regular assassin?" 
"I needed an unknown. You are from a poor world, and you will not rise above your current station in Fleet. Agreed?" 
"They're prejudiced against me," the workman snarled. Hatred and bitterness overflowed making his face ugly and mottled. Those emotions were almost tangible to the alien who sat across the table from him. 
"You can become quite important on your home planet; be the richest man there. Think of the power you can have, the women you can own." The Hardian's eyes became slits as he waited in silent triumph. 

"Yeah." Thinking of what he could do made Turner's genitals grow hard and uncomfortable. He squirmed in his seat. 
"Will you do it?" The nobleman asked, keeping the contempt from his voice, from his eyes. 
"I'll do it." Turner's hand slipped beneath the table to press hard against his sexual organ. 
"It must be done within the month," the Hardian announced coldly. 
"Why?" He wished this old shit would leave so he could find a whore. 
"My son's trial is slated thirty two Earth days hence. If the dyak testifies against him, all will be lost. I would not like that. Do you understand?" 
The workman's eyes gleamed. "I do." 
The alien stood up. "Good. Do not fail me, sir, or you will be my next target." 
"I won't fail." 

**** 

One week later: 

"Dr. Johnson?" the young intern asked as he entered Johnson's small cubicle. 
"Yes?" 
"Sir, I'm not trying to cause trouble, but..." He stopped, embarrassed. 
"But?" Johnson prompted. 
"I know you ordered Yeoman Sheeka down for shore leave the last time, and I know the records show he went, but I know he didn't." 
"How do you know?" 
"I remained on board, remember?" 
"Yes," the chief medical officer agreed, "to mind the store. Continue." 
"I saw him in Mess Hall when I went to supper." 
"Did you? Who falsified the records?" 
The intern bit his lip. "Er..." 
Johnson prodded firmly, "Well?" 
"I have no proof, Dr. Johnson." 
"Go on, James." 
"It appears that the captain did, sir." 
Dr. Johnson's face tightened. "Why did he do that?" He stood up abruptly. 
"I have no proof..." James reminded the other man quickly. 
"Go back to your work," Johnson ordered in a voice of steel as he reached for the intercom button. "Sick Bay to Captain Church." James hurried away. 
"Bridge, Church here. What can I help you with, Doc?" 
"I've discovered an officer has falsified medical records." How cold, how threatening his voice sounded. 
Silence filled the airwaves, then Peter said, "I'll be right there, Dr. Johnson." 

Johnson turned off the intercom and muttered, "I knew you would." In only a few moments, Church entered Sick Bay. "Sit," the doctor ordered. 
"Doc..." 
Johnson's face grew hard. "I'm responsible for the mental, emotional and physical well being of the four hundred, thirty two people on board this ship. When I issue an order, I have a good reason for it." 
"Doc..." Peter began again. 
"...As you do when you give a command..." Johnson interrupted coldly. 
"Lee..." 
"Don't!" Johnson glowered darkly as he slammed the palm of his hand against the top of the table.
"You don't understand," Church said, not pretending, not trying to avoid the truth. 
"Then make me understand," the doctor ordered in icy anger. "Tell me why you countermanded me! You went behind my back and kept Yeoman Sheeka here. And then, you falsified his records." 
"I had to," Church said, trying to appease the doctor.
"Tell me why," Johnson demanded. 
"No," Peter replied in false calmness. "Don't push this."
"Is that a command, Captain Church?" Johnson asked in a voice chilled with anger. 
"Yes, Dr. Johnson, it is," Church replied, just as coldly. 
"Just who is he?" Johnson asked harshly. 

"Yeoman Sheeka, one of your first shift lab techs. Now, is there anything else?"
"I want him to go down on the next shore leave." 
"No," Peter said pleasantly enough. 
"His psi-realms are down, dangerously low. To put it bluntly, Captain, since that is the only way you seem to prefer it right now, Yeoman Sheeka is on the verge of a breakdown." 
Emotion played havoc with Pete's face. He knew his friend was speaking the truth. Church had seen the strain on the yeoman's countenance himself. "I'll...I'll take him down with me, ok?" 
"Pete! Who is he?" Johnson asked once again. 
"Yeoman Sheeka." and with that, Church left. 
"Yeoman Sheeka, my eye teeth," Johnson muttered. He punched up him medical records but there was nothing in them to explain any of it. 

*** 

One day later: 
"But, Captain, I...- Sheeka's face was pale purple. The fear in his eyes was horrible to see. 
"I'll be with you, and I'll even have a security guard with us if you want one. You'll be safe." Pete's tone was gentle, reassuring. 
"Please don't make me do this, Captain!" he begged harshly as he clutched his shoulders with hard hands. Dyaks were almost as strong as Chre priests; Peter flinched as he firmly removed them. 

"When was the last time you walked on a planet, Leae? Can you remember what it's like to feel the wind on your flesh? Let real air fill your lungs?" He touched the thin, tired face of the Dyak male. "Dr. Johnson was right; you do need a change." 
"NO! Captain, please!" 
"Yeoman..."
But the Dyak hurried away.
Later that night, Sheeka returned to the Captain's quarters. The door swooshed shut behind him as he allowed him to enter his cabin. "I am sorry for the scene I caused. I do trust you, Pete; I will go down with you." 
"Leae." He felt inordinately pleased with him words.
The overwhelming sense of protectiveness returned to him. "Oh, Leae." They moved together, as if by instinct. They kissed. Church's tongue investigated the welcome of Sheeka's mouth. Sheeka groaned in pleasure.
"Please?" Sheeka begged.
"Oh, yes," Church agreed in joy and proceeded to make love to the Dyak again.

When the next shore leave came, two days later, Sheeka and the Captain beamed down to the surface of a small world of forests and hills. They were close to the last ones to go to the planet. Right behind them, Baden and a security team transported down. Though it was illogical, the Chre priest was both worried and concerned, and could not understand why he felt such...Human...emotions. However, he was not in time. On the ground was an unconscious - Captain Church, and Yeoman Sheeka was gone, his communicator left behind. Baden brought down Johnson and more security men, and sent the teams out to look for the yeoman. He had everyone else on shore leave return to the Endeavor. 

"He's ok. Someone used a phaser on him and he hit his head when he fell," Johnson announced as he ran a scanner over the man on the ground. "Will someone please explain to me just what's going on?" He injected a serum into Church that would counteract the effects of the weapon. 
"I intend to find out, Doctor," the Chre priest announced In a no nonsense voice. 
"Sheeka?" Peter muttered as he came to. He tried to rise but Johnson held him down. "Move, Doctor," Peter snapped. 
"You had a nasty crack on your head," Doc told him, but he moved and Peter rose. 
"Where's Sheeka?" He held the back of his head In irritation. 
"He is gone, Captain," Baden said without emotion. 
"NO!" Peter denied loudly. "We have to find him. Baden!" Without realizing what he was doing, Church grabbed the Chre priest, tried to shake him. 

"I have search teams out. Shane is using the ship's sensors to aid in the seeking. Did you see who attacked you?" 
"No," Church almost snarled, "I didn't." He thought, "He trusted me! He believed me when I told him I would protect him!" 
Baden saw the anguish in Church's eyes. "Captain, who is he? Why is it so vital to find him?" 
"He's a crew member who could be hurt," Peter replied lamely. He held the back of his skull once more. 
"I gave you something for the pain," Johnson told him. 
"He is more to you than a crew member," Baden argued, "Though I do grant you that you do worry over any of the ship's people who are in trouble, but, Captain, it is more than that with him." 
"He's my lover... Where is he?" 
"We are searching for him, Captain."
Church opened his communicator. "Church to Endeavor." 
"Endeavor here." 
"Bring me aboard."
"Yes, sir."