But the heir to the house of Nistral would not cry out, as much as the agonizing pressure on his hand urged him to. Instead he clamped his teeth down on his lower lip, to make certain that no sound of weakness escaped him.
All around held their collective breath, waiting to hear if Kerin would make some sort of noise. Nothing. His body was shaking, and blood was starting to trickle down his chin.
Graziunas laughed loudly, a sound so startling that several people jumped slightly. He released his grip on Kerin and the boy staggered back, rubbing his hand.
"Thou hast shown spirit, son of Nistral," said Graziunas grudgingly. "Spirit and fire. Thou hast spoken the words as they should be spoken, and issued the challenge. Thou hast not defeated me, but thou hast displayed thy worth." He stepped back and gestured towards Sehra. "If she will have thee, then the hand of my only daughter is yours." Kerin couldn't believe it, and yet already there were the sounds of admiration and cheers from all around. Smiling now, he shook his hand slightly to restore circulation, a gesture that engendered a bit of good-natured chuckling. He accepted it in stride, for the pressure was off.
He crossed quickly to Sehra, who was standing there, smiling, her hands extended to him. He took her hands in his and when she squeezed his, he tried not to wince.
"You'll have me?" he said, forgetting that he was supposed to speak in the formal tongue.
Sehra didn't bother to correct him. She was smiling too widely. "Of course." She stepped down off the dais and embraced him, which prompted more applause and laughter throughout the room.
"How did I do?" he whispered in her ear.
"Fine." She ran her fingers across his tight-cropped hair. "You did just fine."
Chapter Two
Lieutenant Cohen was sitting in the Ten-Forward lounge, watching the stars glide by.
He held up his glass of synthehol and watched the stars refract through the scintillating, swishing liquid. He sighed the sort of long sigh that was a clear indication--should anyone be listening--that he was depressed about something. So depressed that he desperately wanted to talk to someone about it, but likewise too depressed to get up the energy to discuss it with anyone.
Guinan glided several paces towards him, then stopped short. She raised a nonexistent eyebrow and pursed her lips. Her eyes twinkled no less than the stars through Cohen's glass as she stepped back and then moved diagonally across Ten-Forward.
She had not seen Geordi La Forge come in; her back had been to the door at the time. She didn't need to have seen him, though, to know that he was there.
"Geordi," she said softly.
He looked up at her. Or rather, he tilted his head and observed the flickering trace patterns of her body that his VISOR perceived. There was always something a little different about the way he saw Guinan as opposed to the way he saw others. A sort of--it was hard to pinpoint--coolness about her.
As if her soul floated in an inner calmness that was reflected in the heat emanations of her body.
At the moment, he was alone at the table. He was expecting O'Brien and Riker to be joining him before too long, but he was already feeling in an expansive mood. "Guinan!" he said cheerfully. "Problem?" She inclined her head slightly. "Him." "Who?" "Cohen." He glanced in the direction she'd indicated.
"Cohen?" "Yup." A smile broke across his face, and he shook his head. "We going to be talking in one-word sentences all night?" She smiled in return. "Maybe." "What's with Cohen?" "He seems a little down," Guinan told him. "Since he's one of your staff, I thought you might want to cheer him up." "Isn't that your department?" he asked, but he was already getting up from behind his table.
She took a step back. "Something tells me this might be "man" stuff." ""Man" stuff?" he said with a touch of amusement.
"You know," and she raised her arm in a flexing gesture. ""Man" stuff." "Right," he agreed, flexing in return.
Considering the knack that Guinan had for sweetly strongarming people into doing things, he had a sneaking suspicion he knew who had the stronger muscles.
Walking across the Ten-Forward lounge, he took notice of the way Guinan paced him a couple feet away, only to break off and head in another direction as soon as he got near Cohen. He heard Cohen sigh loudly and knew the tone of it. He'd heaved a sigh or two like that himself.
"Cohen?" he asked.
Cohen looked up at him. "Oh, Lieutenant Commander. Hi." "Hi," Geordi replied, sliding down into the chair opposite. "Call me Geordi.
We're off duty, and we're all friends here." "Geordi," said Cohen uncertainly.
"And I should call you--?" "Cohen." "Oh." Geordi paused a moment. "Something got you down, Cohen?" Cohen raised an eyebrow. It was the sort of subtle face movement that Geordi could not detect. Instead he depended on his ability to read pulse jumps, or the slight tilt of a head that usually accompanied a facial reaction.
"You could tell that?" asked Cohen, impressed.
"Wow. You know, I saw you come in, but you were way over there, and I didn't think you'd even noticed me. How were you able to tell from way over there?" Somehow, Guinan told me wouldn't sound impressive. "Call it a knack," said Geordi. "So... you want to talk about it?" Cohen looked down. "I don't think so.
No. I'd really rather not discuss it." "Okay," said Geordi, and he started to get up.
"I'm so depressed. My life stinks," said Cohen.
Geordi sat back down again.
Cohen stared into his glass, and Geordi said, "You want to elaborate on that?" "Life in general." "Ah." "And women." "Ah," said Geordi, this time with more understanding.
"Look at me, Geordi," said Cohen, and then he quickly amended, "I mean... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you..." Geordi laughed. ""Look" isn't a dirty word, Cohen." "Yeah, yeah I know. Look at me, then.
I'm thirty-four years old today, Geordi." "Happy birthday!" said Geordi. "I'm sorry, I should have--" Cohen waved it off. "That's not the point.
I'm thirty-four years old. My hair is thinning. I've put on some weight--look at this. My uniform's getting tight around the waist.
That's embarrassing. And yesterday I broke up with Technician Jackson." "Jackson, huh?" said Geordi. "She's cute. You two were a couple?" He was mildly annoyed with himself. Since his promotion to chief engineer, he'd been a hell of a lot more busy.
He wasn't in the rumor loop as much as he used to be.
"Eight months," said Cohen sadly.
"Eight months down the Jefferies tube. Look at me: I'm wasting my life.
I signed on with Starfleet to explore. All I ever explore is the engine room. I never serve on away teams. I never make any sort of discovery. I'm just... just there. I'm a grunt. Look at what I've got." "Yeah," said Geordi. "Yeah, let's look at what you've got. Look out there," and he pointed out the viewport.
Cohen didn't understand. "What am I supposed to see?" "The stars." "The stars. Great," said Cohen dismally. "So what? What do they have to do with me?" "You live among the stars, Cohen!" said Geordi with enthusiasm. "Do you have any idea what that's like? Centuries ago, people stared up at the stars, their feet unable to leave the earth. They never saw outer space. Your ancestors never went to Mars, which was practically next door. The kind of life you lead--it would have been the most incredible flight of fancy to them. The things you take for granted." He nudged Cohen's shoulder. "You don't know what you've got." "What have I got?" said Cohen. He still looked skeptical.
Geordi leaned back in the chair, his arms folded. "Why don't you tell me?" "This is silly," said Cohen.
"Consider it an order," said Geordi, still friendly.
Cohen stared at Geordi, trying to figure out if the engineer was kidding or not. He didn't seem to be. "Tell you what I've got." "Right." Cohen gave it some thought.
"Nothing comes to mind." Geordi blew air through his lips. "You help keep this ship running," he said. "That's one thing.
There's a thousand people on this ship that depend upon the engineering department--more than any other--to get them where they're going. Now, maybe you consider your duties to be routine, even humdrum. But it's the ability to stay on top of those duties, even when they're tedious, that makes you a good officer." "I suppose," said Cohen slowly. "I mean... I can look at it with an eye that all these people need me." "Right!" said Geordi.
"And, well, I do get shore leave, occasionally. And with the holodeck..." "Exactly," smiled Geordi. "You can simulate anyplace you'd want to go. And only the very latest starships are outfitted with holodeck technology." "And it's not like I've got a dead-end job," said Cohen. "I mean, there's room for advancement." "Now you're getting it!" "I mean, it's not like I'm chief engineer.
Now that's a dead-end job." Geordi opened his mouth and then closed it again.
"Oh! No offense!" said Cohen quickly.
"None taken," Geordi said evenly. "I suppose some people might perceive that job as such, but I assure you--" "Oh, you don't have to assure me of anything," Cohen told him. "I understand fully." "Well, good." Geordi smiled. "We were talking about you." "About good things, yeah." Cohen was looking back out the viewport. "When I see the stars, it reminds me of Jackson's eyes. She has the most gorgeous eyes. When she would look at me in that way, with her eyes twinkling--there was nothing like it. You know what I mean?" No. Because I've been blind from birth, and I can see a single burning coal from thirty paces, but I can't see a woman's eyes burning with love from thirty inches away. "Sure I do," said Geordi. "There's nothing like it, you're right." "And I could always have something done about the hair, right?" he said, running his fingers through his thinning pate. "And just work out more to drop those extra pounds. It's not really a big deal, is it? Just self-discipline." Right. Dealing with his "shortcomings" is no big deal. As opposed to me. If I have my "shortcoming" attended to--my sight restored-- I lose the sensory abilities of my VISOR, and that would simply be too much to give up. "Just a little self-discipline," Geordi echoed.
"And even if Jackson and I did break up --well, hell, we did have all that time together.
And when we were together, it was fantastic.
Fantastic woman, great conversationalist, great sex. There's nothing like a relationship when it's working, huh, Geordi?" I haven't had a serious relationship in close to two years. "Nothing like it," said Geordi.
Cohen stood, filled with new confidence. "You know, Geordi, I'm going down to engineering just to run a routine systems check. I mean, it's not due for another two hours but, hell, you can't be too careful, right?" As Geordi nodded silently, he went on, "And then I'm going to see Jackson and tell her just what she's missing out on. And if she still wants to keep it broken off, well, there's lots of fish in the sea, or stars in the skies. Right?" "Right," whispered Geordi.
Cohen got up, clapped Geordi on the shoulder, and strode out of Ten-Forward. As he exited, Commander William Riker entered.
Riker nodded briefly in acknowledgment, and Cohen tossed off a jaunty salute. This surprised the hell out of Riker since salutes were hardly required, or even expected. Cohen walked away, arms swinging, whistling softly.
Riker glanced at the table where he and Geordi customarily sat, but he didn't see the chief engineer. Then he spotted him on the other side of Ten-Forward. Geordi was staring out a viewport when Riker walked up and dropped into the chair across from him, straddling it. "Geordi?
Something wrong?" Geordi looked at him. "I'm so depressed," he said.
"You're joking." "Do I look like I'm joking?" "Well, no," admitted Riker. "You want to tell me about it?" "I don't think that would be--" Riker's communicator suddenly beeped.
Riker tapped it and said briskly, "Riker here." "Commander," came the clipped tone of Captain Picard, "to the bridge, please." "Right away, sir." "Bring Mr. La Forge with you." "Yes, sir." Riker didn't question how Picard knew that Geordi La Forge was with him.
Somehow, his being the captain was sufficient reason.
He stood and said to Geordi, "You heard the man." "Yeah, I know," said La Forge, getting to his feet.
"You'll tell me about it on the way to the bridge," said Riker. "Whatever's bothering you, I'm sure we can shake it." "If you say so, sir."
Jean-Luc Picard rose from his command chair the moment that Riker and La Forge entered the bridge.
With a curt gesture of his head he indicated that they should retire to the conference lounge. Worf was already heading there and Riker stopped just short of the door, protocol clearly dictating that the captain enter first.
Picard glanced at his first officer and chief engineer, some instinct that was attuned to the moods of his command crew immediately tipping him that something was wrong. Geordi seemed in a chipper enough mood.
