~ by Laura Cynthia Chambers 

“Hear that?” Grace whispered, her voice hushed with wonder. A soft clunking and rustling sound traveled on the breeze.

“I used to fall asleep to that sound.” Albix sighed. “It’s the breesa trees swaying in the wind. I never thought I’d hear it again.” He watched her listen, her eyes closed in pleasure.

“Just like music. With no band.” She leaned on her elbows, a dreamy look on her face. 

Albix swallowed. He touched her on the shoulder. “Grace?”

“Mmm?” she murmured, looking deeply into his eyes. 

He took her hand in both of his. “I want to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me, for encouraging me like you did. I never would have been brave enough to come here on my own. If you hadn’t taken a chance on a thief, I’d probably be holed up in a Yursian holding cell, feeling sorry for myself.” 

She looked down at their hands, trembling slightly. A slow smile spread across her face. “You’re welcome. But you’re also wrong. The man I see when I look at you is capable of far more brave things than even you know.”

“Really?” 

The air thickened between them.

“Really.” 

He leaned closer. “Even this?” he asked, lowering his head towards hers. Gently, he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her forward. Her eyes widened just before their lips met in a sweet embrace of gratitude, hope and joy. 

* * *

A still slightly dazed Riley parted the curtain and moved towards the balcony railing, his footsteps tapping on the tiled brick. It was a cool night. The air was laden with the light perfume of almost- ripe breesin. He shivered slightly as the wind played with his hair. “Whew. I’d take the cold any day. Was getting’ kinda stuffy in there.”

He flinched as a shadow moved over him. Tipping his head back, he quickly realized it was just the curtain, disturbed by the wind. “Heh, heh…you’re seein’ things, Riley…”

“Kill him! He must not live another minute! He will destroy everything!”

Riley covered his ears as the phrases, dripping with venom, shot through his consciousness. “What the-“ The voice was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. “Weird.” He shook his head. 

A flicker of movement caught his eye from behind a large column. Curious, he tip-toed along the tiles and peered around it. 

Two figures were moving in the moonlight, so close they were touching. Riley covered his mouth to hide a grin as a rosy blush filled his cheeks. “Well, well, what do we have here….looks like a couple of lovebirds…” he chuckled. But his laughter quickly died off as he realized that one of the two wasn’t human. Wasn’t even humanoid. 

And the other was Grace Berlin.

Riley’s heart leapt into his throat. He watched in horror as the young woman writhed and twisted violently, trying to escape the clutches of a large orange serpent. Crying out, she pushed on the creature in an attempt to free her body. But the snake just coiled even tighter, closing her mouth with the end of its tail.

He had seen that creature before on Meradis Prime. Had bragged about obliterating the beast not an hour ago, his false drunk bravado covering the grief and guilt he felt over losing two friends to its ravenous appetite before he managed to stop it. 

Panicking, he reached for his phaser. It wasn’t there. “No!” he shouted. Jerking his head from side to side in a frantic search for a weapon, he found nothing. 

“Grace!” The snake opened its massive jaws and prepared to swallow Berlin whole. Riley lunged forward and grabbed the serpent by the back of the neck. “LET HER GO!!” he yelled, strangling the creature with his bare hands, trying to drag it off of Grace’s struggling body.

* * *

“Harvest begins in three weeks, and processing to make breesin two week after that.” Descin plucked a single breesa off the tree and passed it to Spock. “But most of the fruit is ripe enough now.”

 The Vulcan studied it in the pale light of the moon. “Curious. Does it have any other applications that do not pertain to alcohol?”

“Yes. When unfermented, the juice can be quite sweet. Or you could eat it raw. Some people use it to make pastries, too.” He sat down on an overturned basket. “My Jalia could whip up a brees-wava that would make your mouth water,” he remarked wistfully.

Kirk took a bite of the fruit. “I’ll bet.” He lowered his hand, a sad expression on his face. “How long has it been?” Spock looked up from his perusal of the fragrant blue-skinned orb, listening.

Descin sighed. “Longer than I care to remember. About 19 years now. She died of a fungal infection, Captain. It devastated our entire orchard and took her away from us all in one terrible season. Albix was just a baby, and Todar a young boy. He didn’t understand why I spent more time with his brother. Why I had to.” 

“It was only logical that you focus your attention on the child who was least able to fend for himself,” Spock offered in an attempt to comfort him. “Affection must be secondary to survival.”

“Come on; he was only a child, Spock. How could you possibly expect him to figure that out?” Kirk scratched the back of his neck. 

“Even young minds are capable of rational thought,” Spock protested. “Though I will allow that feelings of loss and abandonment, like all emotions, have a way of distorting ones’ perception of reality.”

Kirk placed his hand on the man’s arm. “You made the only choice you could, Baras.”

“Thank you, Kirk. I only wish Todar knew that. Healing will not come easily for that one.” Descin stood up stiffly and straightened his back, yawning. “Used to be I could go without sleep for a day at a time. I’m afraid I really must retire now, Captain.” He smiled. “You may remain a little longer if you wish, though.”

“That’s okay, but I’m getting a little worn out myself.” Kirk covered his mouth to stifle a yawn, stretching his arms upwards. “Phew. Ready to hit the hay, Spock?”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “If you are asking whether I am fatigued, inviting me to engage in further physical activity seems almost cruel.” He fell into step beside the two men. 

Kirk threw his free arm around Spock, laughing. “How dreadfully I mistreat you, Commander. My most humble apologies. However do you manage?” He bowed gracefully, one eye open.

Spock turned his head and cocked it to one side. “Usually by regarding your hypocrisies, idiosyncrasies and irrationalities as examples of human nature suitable for dissection. Between you and Doctor McCoy, I have all the material I require.”   

Descin glanced over at them, confused. “Private joke. You wouldn’t understand,” Kirk muttered.

A loud scream erupted from the balcony. Dropping the half-eaten breesa, Kirk tore through the orchard, kicking up clods of dirt in his wake. Spock hurried after him, Descin struggling to keep up. 

Bursting through the door, he ran up two flights of stairs, following the sound of the screams.  Into the celebration room that now lay empty, shoving the banquet table out of his way with a mighty heave. Several dishes clattered to the floor as he nearly tripped over the amber table cloth. 

Regaining his footing, he plowed through the curtains onto the balcony, stopping to catch his breath. To his left, Lieutenant Grace Berlin stood in the corner, her back pressed against the wall, hands over her face. Kirk pulled her hands away and saw the look of sheer panic in her tear-filled eyes. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked her gently. 

Breathing rapidly, Berlin grabbed his shirt. “C-captain…” She lifted a shaky finger and pointed over his shoulder. “Look…”

Kirk looked. 

Lieutenant Kevin Riley had his hands around Albix’s throat, squeezing tightly.  “I’LL KILL YOU, SERPENT!!” he screamed. “I’LL KILL YOU!! “

The Agapean wheezed and clawed at Riley’s arms weakly as the officer pushed his upper back a little further over the railing. Kirk leapt into action, seizing him by the shoulders. Riley swung his head around, momentarily distracted. Kirk shoved him out of the way and pulled Albix upwards, lowering him to the ground gently. He moved his feet apart, bracing himself as Riley backed up.

Spock appeared, followed by Descin. The older man put his arm around his son’s shoulders, talking softly to him before helping him stand, supporting his weight as they departed.  Spock ushered Lieutenant Berlin out through the curtains, reaching for his communicator. 

Riley lunged at Kirk, who grabbed the writhing man, standing as a firm roadblock between him and Albix. “Riley! What’s gotten into you?!” He shook the man twice. The hatred on Riley’s face became raw fear. 

“NO!!! I MUST SLAY THE SERPENT!!” he cried, frantically trying to escape Kirk’s hold. “Don’t you see it, Captain? The fangs, the maw…dripping blood and death-oh!” He went limp in Kirk’s arms as Spock subdued him with a nerve pinch. 

“Thank you, Spock.” Kirk leaned Riley against the post. Except for the sheen of sweat on his face and his torn uniform, he looked as though he was just taking a nap.

Spock looked at the unconscious man, then turned back to Kirk. “I have already alerted Doctor McCoy and security, sir. They will be expecting us.” He paused. “I believe his exact words were, ‘I’ll put another pot of coffee on. Blast it, I knew I should have taken that sleeping pill.’” Spock raised an eyebrow. “Though I suspect that last part wasn’t intended for my ears.”

Despite offering a weak smile, the worry lines did not disappear from Kirk’s brow.

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