His vision faded to a static blur as the arm around his neck tightened like a python. He noticed only enough to be disappointed when a Tamarian took the late shoot shift at his favorite cafe. No more cute blonde with his blonde lattes. Her cow-nosed face and sucker-tipped thumb only meant she wasn’t human. Why would she be obsessed with one? “Quit social media,” the idiots in PR said. “She’ll move on.”

The coffee dropped from his hand, and he pulled vainly at her elbow. She was as strong as the ox she looked like. His fingers tingled. Was the floor melting? No, he was sinking… He should have listened to Greg. That old tub knew more than ten directors. He should have gotten a bodyguard after the autograph incident.

“I’m your biggest fan!”

He hadn’t meant to laugh, but she was–literally–his biggest fan. Moonho Han went limp in her arms. She checked that he was breathing, weakly but breathing, by holding the back of her spotted hand in front of his mouth. “You’ll forgive me, Moony. Just like I forgave you. When you hold our baby, you’ll love me.” 

Zindle Dabbers turned the pink satellites of her ears back to listen to her passengers. Her survival instincts were prickling like a cactus rolling up her back. She didn’t know a single species where having whole conversations with yourself was not a sign of mental illness. Maybe the Dionary, but they had cleft brain hemispheres. Their left hand truly didn’t know what the right hand was doing if the brains didn’t talk to each other out loud.

”There, there, lovey. Haven’t I told you not to drink so much? You have to be a good daddy soon.” She petted her human mate’s hair as his head lolled on her thigh, drooling a spot onto her pants that she seemed not to mind. “There, there, lovey. I know you love the name Chester. That was your favorite cartoon when you were a boy; so, that’s what we’ll name our boy. I’ll give you a son to carry on your name. Aren’t I a good wife to give you a son? I’ll give you everything you want, my darling.”

A deafening honk startled Zindle back to the traffic ahead. Not the honk of another taxi. Just an angry Noktokese pedestrian. She stuck her head out the driver window and cussed him in Ferengi. He lifted his sleeve to show her his elbow in a gesture she could guess the meaning of well enough. Zindle glanced back, expecting the blue-faced human to wake from the yell, but he just wheezed and kept up a steady flow of red spittle. She didn’t pay much attention to humans. This one seemed more colorful than average.

The female something-or-other paid her no mind. “Shh… There, there, lovey. We’ll be home soon, and I’ll put you to bed. You want to rest, don’t you? You need to rest.”

Zindle reached her hand under the steering column and pulled her hack shim out. The taxi powered down with an electric gasp. That got the female’s attention. “No no, not this again!” Zindle said theatrically. She slammed her palms on the steering wheel and put on a concerned face that didn’t take much effort. “I said to my boss this one had a bad…dingbinger. Please, wait, customers. I can fix it. I just need to jump out look.”

The female went back to cooing over her mate as his breath rattled. Zindle stepped out of the stifling cabin with a sigh. She dashed cat-like red eyes around the crowd, and her shoulders canted forward with relief when she saw a Starfleet uniform. The only trustworthy aliens on this gods-forsaken station.

The pink-skinned teen yanked Lieutenant Cynfor Rees out of the passing crowd by the arm. In a shaky, hushed voice she said, “Act as if you are stopped to help me fix this taxi, human.”

Cyn furrowed his brow at the alien girl, and but in the instant he knew that a there would be no way a Siguan would stop him unless it were important or a scam. Either way he wanted to know what was going on. He walked over to the taxi and had Zindl open up the engine compartment. “Alright let me see what I can do.” He said to the Siguan, as he hoped that she would shed some light on why she needed the assistance.

Zindle’s brow jumped at the Starfleet man’s ease with machines. The ’87 Barcan T model’s hood was notoriously hard to open, and he had pointed her to the hidden flip lever like he fixed them every weekend. She leaned over the engine and pointed a long, four-knuckled finger at a random part. “It is my passenger that may be broken,” she whispered. She eyed him sideways. “You are Starfleet, yes? You take an oath to help citizens? Even if you don’t know them and they might steal your latinum?”

Rees cocked an eyebrow at the Siguan, now things seemed to be getting interesting. “Yes that is correct I am a Starfleet Officer and I do swear an oath to help people. What is the problem with your passenger?” Rees was not about to interrupt someone on a hunch, he wanted to hear what this person had to say. In the meantime he did a good job at making it appear as if he was repairing the vehicle.

There was no reply. Cyn felt a small tug at the cargo pocket to his uniform which brought his attention from under the hood. The alien girl was gone. A distant flicker of gangly pink arms and legs churning in a run disappeared behind a cargo truck that sped past the parked taxi so fast a wake of turbulence rustled Cyn’s dark brown hair.

Cynfor was pretty sure he had just been conned. He reached into his pocket and the con was confirmed as he realized he was missing two strips of latinum. He sighed deeply “There is probably no one in this taxi.” he said to the empty space. When he lowered the hood he saw the two people in the back seat and sighed again. He approached the window, knocked and waited for the passenger to lower it.

The shaded plane of a forcefield blinked off, and an arrestingly lumpy face looked out at him. The Tamarian woman smiled, but her eyes shifted to look over Cynfor’s shoulder more than she looked at him. “What seems to be the matter, uhm, officer?” The human man sitting beside her was passed out. She caught him as he slumped towards her like a rag doll, and his head lolled sideways onto her shoulder. Her tinny laughter seemed as forced as her smile. “We’re just heading home after a bit too much celebrating,” she said loudly enough that Cyn heard her over the traffic. The flow of Empok Nor citizens and tourists zipped and honked angrily past the stalled taxi.

Cynfor did not like the look of what was going on, not one bit. There was something going on here, but he could not put his finger on it yet. He did recognize the face of the human man though, that was Moonho Han. Cynfor was sure of it his son Ben was a fan of sorts. He decided to play coy and see where it got him.

”It’s Lieutenant and ye won’t be goin anywhere in this taxi she’s stalled out. I’ll tell you what though if you and your gentleman friend here want to step out, I can fix him right up and you two can walk the rest of the way. These taxi’s usually have a med kit up front. So why don you go ahead and step out.” Rees smiled broadly as he reached for a med kit under the front seat.

She huffed. A gust of warm air hit Cynfor in the face. She snaked her arm around Moonho and pushed the door open. Sliding out, she drew Moonho’s limp body mostly upright beside her. He coughed, and wet red drops spotted his lips. “No-no, that’s all right, Lieutenant” she said. “My husband doesn’t like doctors or nurses or paramedics like yourself. They… They remind him of his dead father. Did you know his father died tragically?” She bit her lip under wide front teeth and nodded. “You would offend him greatly. I’ll call another transport, and we’ll be on our way home. Thank you, officer. You can go.”

The ox-like woman turned Moonho away from Cynfor to shield him behind her body. She flipped open her communicator and raised it to her face. “Computer, request taxi.”

All he needed to see was the blood and Cyn knew the score. He tapped his comm badge. “Computer belay the civilian request for a taxi and override. Immediate site to site transport, three to sick bay. Authorization Rees-sigma-nine-nine-alpha.” He turned toward the woman with Moonho. “This is one of the benefits of being a Operations Chief, immediate service.”

The three were engulfed in the transporter effect and found themselves in the stations Sick Bay. Without missing a beat “Rees turned to the onduty nurse. “That man needs help please see to it.” The nurse nodded and took some steps to take Moonho from the alien.

”Now either you let the medical staff tend to him or he will surely die. Your choice. Murder or Assault?” Cynfor said to her in a clear concise voice.

Moonho sagged like a bag of sand in the Cardassian nurse’s arms as he pulled the human out of his kidnapper’s grip. She lowered her communicator from her mouth slowly as white-washed horror materialized on her face. The nurse exclaimed something urgent in Cardassian that only Cynfor understood through his universal translator. He swung Moonho onto a biobed and fussed over him rapidly as a staff doctor quickly joined him.

The kindapper’s nostrils flared, and her eyes darted around the pristine walls of the Empok Nor emergency medical center. A security officer approached. It was standard procedure to scan emergency room visitors for weapons. The Tamarian woman’s limbs quaked in fear like water simmering to a boil. “I–” Her voice shook.

While he assisted the nurse with Moonho Cynfor noticed that the security guard had walked in. “Officer take that woman into custody. That is an order.”

The guard snapped alert at the lieutenant’s orders, and walked quickly to them. “Come with me, please, ma’am.” He gripped the Tamarian woman’s arm assertively at the elbow, and she bent over suddenly at the waist. Her breath wheezed rapidly as anxiety overwhelmed her.

”Nonononono, you don’t understand,” she said.

”The sergeant will take your statement at our office just a level down, ma’am.” The guard looked to Cynfor and his eyes hardened to mirror the officer’s conviction of her guilt. His voice chilled. “We won’t leave the medical center until we’ve determined just what happened.” He pulled her sharply by the arm. She wailed as tears began to fall and allowed him to tug her away like a stuffed doll.

Moonho’s nurse came back to Cynfor and stood close enough to draw his attention. “Lieutenant, can you tell me in what condition you found this man? Was he conscious?”

”He was in and out of consciousness with a light amount of blood bubbling from his lips. That woman stated that he simply had too much to drink.” Rees replied. 

Moonho blinked as the white and grey blurs of abstract art sharpened into an infirmary room. He’d been awake for minutes and knew it yet couldn’t remember those minutes or guess how many of them had passed. He was alive. Though it had just happened, the attack was so far out of normal reality that it already felt like the memory of a holonovel instead of his real life. Kidnapping. Actual, attempted kidnapping. The sort of thing that only “really” happened to an unlucky few. It was easier to get hit by lightning.

His mind sharpened, and he blinked to clear his eyes. He glanced at the medical devices gathered around his bed like mechanical flamingos. The last time he had seen the inside of an ICU, his father was dying. He felt pressed into his biobed at the thought. A phantom cactus laid on top of him like a fallen tree. The inescapable, prickling weight of loss. It was hard to breathe and impossible to lay still.

Moonho tried to sit up, but his real injury screamed in protest–a knife twisting in his stomach. He felt suddenly that he would wretch if he moved a millimeter. Eyes so dark they were almost black widened as he froze in place. He drilled his thoughts down to just breathing in and out. Slowly. Steadily. His forehead shone with sweat by the time his stomach calmed to a dull ache. The sweat chilled and evaporated. Finally, he felt merely nauseous and sat up by tilting his biobed.

He reached a shaking hand to the bedside table and slowly brought a mug of ice water close enough to sip from the straw. The door hissed, and a nurse came in. A full-figured human with threads of silver highlighting the tight black curls of her hair. She drew a pair of gloves from a dispenser on the wall, and asked conversationally, “How are you feeling, Mr. Han?”

”Like I’ll throw up if I move,” he gruffed honestly.

She moved a grey bowl from his bedside table to his lap. “Use this if you do. I’ll inform the doctors that you’re awake. You were drugged with a tranquilizer that can weaken the lining of blood vessels in some humans. Your body has cleared it, but last I was told, the doctors plan to keep you here for observation until tomorrow in case you have any bleeding. The chances of that are small, but if it does happen we need to catch it quickly. We contacted your mother on Deep Space 9 yesterday, and she said she would come straight away.” While she updated him on his chart, she floated about him checking various tubes and monitors. Then she stood at his bedside and looked gently down at him. She had been a nurse for a long time. Far longer that anyone whose heart wasn’t in it could last. Moonho felt cared for simply by the way she looked steadily at him. “Unfortunately, I have to ask you this because you came here in suspicious circumstances. Do you feel up for a visit with a Starfleet officer?”

He wanted to feel grateful and gungho to help investigators, but disappointment poured over him. Mom wasn’t there yet. He didn’t want her to see him looking this weak. Didn’t want to give her any more bad memories. But he also felt like a horse had kicked him in the gut and tried to make him her love slave, and he wanted his mother to make him feel like she’d be there with him through the hard part and then life would go back to normal.

”I could see them for a little bit. No paparazzi, though.” He smiled weakly.”Just push the call button, and I’ll shoo him out if you need.” She winked and smiled warmly before turning to leave.A minute later the door opened again.

To Be Continued…