*****

Chapter Two

--------------------------

Malcolm turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. From this vantage point he could hear Hoshi screaming in Spanish. He winced at what she said.

“Donde es Lieutenant Reed, tu hija de puta? Consiga lejos de mí! O me quemaré su pelo apagado! ”

“Burn her hair off? Daughter of a prostitute? Where the hell did she pick these things up?” He thought to himself as he walked toward the cell door and opened it.

Malcolm entered the room, shoulders squared and ready to do battle. “That’s enough,” he stated calmly with enough warning in his voice that Hoshi stopped in mid rant.

She was panting - a wild look in her eyes.

The silence stretched, and Malcolm noticed the harangued look on Em Gomez’s face. If looks could kill he would have a phase pistol burn smack between his eyes.

Hoshi jumped off the bed, closing the distance between her and Malcolm quickly. She started to run her hands over his head, neck and arms, checking for injuries.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked crossly as she ran her hands over his chest. He clamped his hands around her wrists and stopped her exploration before she got any lower.

“Did they hurt you? Are you bleeding?” she asked frantically.

“Who?” Malcolm asked calmly, hoping to glean some idea of who she was…where she was from. All searches still led to nothing. Sure, he had found a few Hoshi Sato’s in the database, but none that were demographic matches to the Hoshi Sato who stood in front of him with a worried look on her face.

Realizing he was fine, she hugged him. “The overseers,” she whispered.

Malcolm asked gently, “Who are the overseers?”

Hoshi didn’t answer, continuing to take comfort in her silence.

Em cleared her throat momentarily forgetting what a foul-mouthed pain in the ass the young woman had been. “It’s about time you got back… sir. If she made one more derogatory remark about my mother, I was going to stun her.”

Malcolm pried Hoshi’s arms from around his waist needing to establish boundaries with his ward. She was already out of control and if they had to live together…well, there must be rules.

“Apologize to Lieutenant Gomez.”

Hoshi looked from Malcolm to Em and back again, realizing Lieutenant Reed would not broker any argument, so she raised her head and looked directly into Em’s dark brown eyes. “I apologize.”

***

She was sleeping peacefully, curled into a ball. It had been a hectic day for both of them. For her, her life continued to get stranger and stranger. For him, his life was uprooted, turned inside out and tossed out the air lock. He sat staring at the PADD Dr. Phlox had given him. On it, contained socialization protocols for Hoshi - hygiene, nutrition, and academics.

Malcolm rolled his eyes. He hoped Phlox didn’t want him to sit around and braid her hair. As far as the rest of the hygiene routine goes, he was going to have to pawn that off to a female. Feeding her wasn’t going to be a problem. Academics? Would she really be here that long? Hopefully, she would be on her way back to Earth shortly and out of his hair, assuming she was from Earth.

What he knew about the young woman who softly snored above him could be counted on one hand - her name and she was tri-lingual. Malcolm sighed and pulled up Starfleet missing vehicles and wreckages, looking for any accidents in this sector of space fifteen years ago.

Since she was already asleep, he uncovered the vitamin supplements Phlox had given to him and injected her with them.

She flinched in her sleep murmuring. “They come for him in the night.”

“Who?” Malcolm asked.

“The overseers,” replied Hoshi’s subconscious.

“Where are the overseers?” Malcolm coaxed.

His question went unanswered as she slipped into a new dream so he sat back down to his desk and typed in overseers as a search word. Definitions of the word and works of literature including overseers flashed before his eyes. “This is hopeless! I need more to go on.”

***

Malcolm escorted Hoshi into the mess hall. It was breakfast time and now was as good a time as any to start socializing her. He made it a point to be early so that the morning rush hadn’t started. In the event things went wrong, he didn’t want an audience. He handed Hoshi a tray and told her to follow him.

He couldn’t help but grin as he looked over his shoulder and saw that she was mimicking every move he made. He picked an omelet, fruit cup and toast with juice. She had the same thing on her tray down to the positioning on the tray.

As he sat the tray on the table, she smiled at him. Malcolm couldn’t help but smile back. He moved around the table to pull her chair out and in turn she moved around the table opposite him, confusion showing on her face.

“Come here.” He pulled her chair out and motioned for to sit down. “It is customary for a man to pull a young woman’s chair out for her.”

Hoshi grinned, “Papa always pulled Mama’s chair out.” She sat down, but didn’t take her eyes off of Malcolm.

Annoyance crept into his demeanor, but he kept a check on it. “This is going to be more difficult than I thought.” He shook his napkin in frustration and placed it on his lap.

Hoshi copied the behavior, smiling. Remarkably, she didn’t copy the pattern in which Malcolm ate his food. She ate the toast first, skipping any butter or jam.

“She certainly does love her bread,” he thought to himself then gasped as he witnessed the way in which she ate the next item.

She took a slice of pineapple and brought it to her lips, the tip of her tongue poking out of her mouth to lick the juice. Her teeth sank into to the piece and she closed her eyes savoring the morsel, unaware of the seductive nature.

Malcolm coughed, omelet catching in his throat. “Bloody Hell! She’s just a child! She’s just a child! She’s just a child!” He kept chanting that thought like it would protect him from the ongoing vision of her delectably eating the pieces of fruit in her cup.

Somebody clearing her throat brought Malcolm from his self-imposed purgatory. Em Gomez stood in front of him yet behind Hoshi, tray in hand.

Hoshi continued to savor the fruit in front of her, paying no mind to the interloper.

“Is everything okay, sir?” Em asked, shifting uncomfortably on her feet.

“Yes, yes. Never better,” he replied then shoved some eggs into his mouth.

“You looked like you were struggling with something,” Em stated, observing her superior officer squirm uncomfortably in his seat. He motioned for her to sit with them.

“I don’t want to intrude.” Em stood off to the side and witnessed the young wild woman take a grape and peel the skin off of it with her teeth. “Perhaps, I should leave you two alone.”

“No, please have a seat. Dr. Phlox states that Hoshi needs to be socialized. Where better to start than somebody she has already ostracized?” Malcolm reasoned.

Em sat down and started eating. Hoshi scooped her tray away from the other woman and turned her back to her.

“Hoshi, turn around,” Malcolm stated in a firm tone.

Hoshi realized that ignoring the other person at the table was not acceptable to Lieutenant Reed so she sat face forward and picked through the omelet, eating the cheese and meat but leaving the egg.

“You really should eat your eggs, Hoshi,” Malcolm said as he watched her avoid them.

Hoshi stared at him. She didn’t like eggs.

“No me gustan los heuvos tambien.” (I don’t like eggs either.) Em stated in an attempt to engage Hoshi in conversation.

Her attempt was met with an air of contempt; one a child would give an adult who was trying to persuade her that liver and onions was like candy.

Malcolm wanted to tell her to answer Em, but knew better than to get between two women, who obviously held a great deal of disdain for one another.

At that point, an icebreaker arrived. Charles Tucker III walked into the mess hall, served himself and sat down in the last chair opposite Em, winking at her. “Mornin’.”

Malcolm nodded his head in acknowledgment and continued chewing. Em glared at Trip, managing to keep her blush to a minimal pink on her cheeks. Hoshi looked at Trip with curiosity.

Trip held his hand out to the young woman. “Charles “Trip” Tucker III. You can call me Trip.”

Hoshi hesitated at first, but could feel the genuine warmth in his greetings. He seemed easygoing and didn’t want her to do anything she didn’t want to do, like eating eggs. She extended her hand, grasping his and shaking it vigorously. “You can call me Hoshi.”

“So, where are you from?” Trip asked curiously while taking a bite of a bagel.

“Mars colony,” she replied.

“Whereabouts on Mars colony. I have some friends there, maybe you know them?” Trip gave a side-glance to Malcolm, knowing how approachable he wasn’t.

Hoshi looked down at her plate and mumbled an apology. “I don’t know.”

“That’s all right. I was never very good at geography either.” Trip conceded, changing topics. Phlox had told him about their guest, stating that she was orphaned at the age of six. She probably stagnated emotionally at that age. Well, he had nieces about that age so he had a pretty good idea on how to approach her and get the information Malcolm wanted out of her. Knowing Malcolm, he had tied her up and put a spotlight on her in an attempt to achieve the goal.

Hoshi’s eyes lit up. “Language Arts.”

“What about Language Arts made it yer favorite subject?” Trip asked.

Malcolm could hardly believe what he was witnessing. In two minutes, the engineer had gotten more out of her than he had been able to in two days.

Hoshi blushed, never one to be prideful. “I liked all the awards.”

“Oh really! What kind of awards?” Trip prodded gently.

Hoshi shrugged her shoulders not sure where to start. “I had lots of awards.”

“Pick one or two.”

Hoshi thought for a moment and blurted her choices out. “I once got an award for translating an ancient Sumerian text. Then I got an award for comprehension in Sanskrit. Then there was an award for excellence in Swahili. Then…”

“Wow, that is quite a list of accomplishments ya got goin’ there, Hoshi,” Trip interceded, perplexed. “I bet your parents were real proud.”

With mention of her parents, the spark in her eyes extinguished. Her mother would chastise her, telling her she was prideful and needn’t show off. Her father would tell her to stop showing off, but at the same time let her know that he was proud of her grades.

Trip could tell she had shut down just by the set of her shoulders. He kicked Malcolm under the table and glared at him. He knew Malcolm wanted to ask more questions but now was not the time. So, Trip folded his napkin, placing it on his plate. “Well, it was nice talkin’ to ya. If you get a chance, swing by and visit engineering.”

Trip stood, glancing at Malcolm and winking at Em, earning a distinctive growl from the woman, and walked out.

***

“I would prefer if you stayed here while I was on duty,” Malcolm motioned around his quarters. “There’s plenty here for you to do. You can browse databases, watch movies, and listen to music.”

Hoshi could tell Lieutenant Reed was uncomfortable around her. He reminded her of her Papa, down to the British accent and the strict attitude. She would be happy when he left, secure in the knowledge that he would come back, not covered in blood and distant from her. Yet, she couldn’t help scanning the room for hypo sprays just in case.

“I'll be fine, Lieutenant Reed.”

Malcolm was so prepared to argue with her and had resigned himself to taking her on duty with him that he was surprised when she readily agreed to being left behind.

He showed her how to access the database and pull up the movies and music, and was amazed when she showed him a shortcut to the information. For somebody who was orphaned at such a young age, she was full of surprises. He took out his PADD and made a notation to check school records and awards, in particular the Language Arts. Certainly a six-year-old who knew Sanskrit and ancient Sumerian was worth noting somewhere.

“If you need me, my frequency is 142,” Malcolm said as he handed her a communicator.

***

Em opened the door to Malcolm’s quarters and resisted the urge to jump back. “Hola?”

“Yes,” Hoshi replied shutting off the monitor, disappointed that it wasn’t Lieutenant Reed.

“Lieutenant Reed can’t get away and instructed me to escort you to dinner,” Em stated looking straight ahead and standing at parade rest.

“Ok,” Hoshi replied reluctantly. Her stomach was growling and knew it was time to eat but didn’t want to make Lieutenant Reed unhappy with her.

“Very well then, follow me,” Em grimaced and stepped to the side.

They walked down the corridor, took a lift and walked into a busy mess hall. Hoshi’s eyes widened in surprise, as she didn’t realize there would be so many people. “It’s just like the camp. Are there any children? Where am I?”

Em looked at the arm upon her sleeve then looked up at the worried expression on her face. She placed her hand on Hoshi’s reassuringly and tugged her along. “Let’s get something to eat and I’ll answer any question you ask.”

At ease with Em’s answer, she grabbed a tray and started picking out food - one of everything that was available to her; that she could fit onto her tray. She was actually starting to like Lieutenant Gomez.

As Em sat down at the nearest table she finally got a good look at Hoshi’s tray yet kept calm about the mostly dessert selections and motioned for Hoshi to ask the questions she wanted answers to.

“Where am I?” was the first question out of Hoshi’s mouth as she stuffed it full with pie.

“You’re aboard the Starship Enterprise,” Em answered quickly and distinctly.

“Starship Enterprise?” Hoshi asked with a mouthful of food, cocking her head to one side.

“A space ship. It flies in the stars. You must have ridden in one to get from Mars colony to Daven Five,” Em asserted then took a sip of her beverage.

“I went to sleep one night and woke up the next morning in the jungle. I remember Mama wasn’t happy with Papa for drugging me and putting me in…s-stasis,” Hoshi replied nonchalantly and started eating her second dessert.

Hoshi continued. “I was sick for days, but Mama kept cleaning up after me and checking me for fever. We didn’t see Papa during the day, but he would come back with food every night. They were so quiet, neither one talking to the other. I guess Mama was talking to Papa inside his head because he would nod his head occasionally like he was talking to someone. It was a while before I was able to do things for myself.”

Em nodded encouragement toward Hoshi to continue, making mental notations to give to Malcolm, but just then Trip Tucker walked up and sat down. “¡Oh mi dios! Es regalo del dios a las mujeres. Este pendejo tiene la sincronización peor .”

Sensing she was speaking ill of him, Trip ignored the Lieutenant that he was trying so hard to attract and turned his attention to the young woman to his right. “How are you doing, Hoshi?”

“I’m good. I really like this pie,” she smiled and took a bite of the concoction.

“You are a girl after my own heart. That’s pecan pie - my favorite,” Trip said as he cut into his slice of pecan pie.

Em rolled her eyes, which did not go unnoticed by Trip or Hoshi.

Trip could tell he was getting a rise out of Em and pressed on. “It’s sweet, like you.” He pointed to Hoshi. “And makes a good late night snack like…”

“What the hell do you think you are doing? You do realize what she has been through and what she is, don’t you? She’s a child! And you’re hitting on her? You are beyond depraved! You need to get laid and…” Em huffed catching herself too late yet proud of herself for keeping her voice lowered so that only their table could hear the exchange.

Hoshi was oblivious to Trip’s flirting but was confused about what Lieutenant Gomez was saying.

Trip folded his napkin and placed it on his plate, the chair scraping the deck plating as he got up. He stood up and bent over a pale Lieutenant Emmanuelle Gomez and whispered into her ear. “If you’re offering, I am certainly up to your suggestion.”

Her pallor turned into a bright fiery blush. Before he could pull away she retorted, “ I would rather be impaled on a long sharp object than become one of your many conquests.”

“You really should watch your choice of words, Emmanuel - impale and long sharp object? Tsk Tsk! That can be arranged,” he grinned as he walked away, secure in the knowledge that he had riled her up.

Hoshi heard the entire conversation and her curiosity piqued. “Why would you rather be impaled on a long sharp object?”

Em looked at her like she had sprouted horns. “It’s just an expression,” she stated and pushed her plate away not really hungry now that God’s gift to women had ruined her appetite. “Are you ready to go?”

Hoshi shoved a rather large piece of pie in her mouth and nodded her response.

***

“Personal log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, December 1, 2153. I have researched ship registries, missing ships, Mars colony, school records, birth records, abductions, prodigies… hell, I have even used search words such as telepathy and overseers to no avail. It’s as though Hoshi never existed, even though she obviously does. Her mess is lying all around my cabin,” Malcolm sighed and stopped the recording, rewinding it to delete the last part.

“Computer, resume recording. I’m not even sure when her birthday is. Phlox is able to gage her age, yet unable to provide me with an exact date. It’s become quite a chore to get information out of her. She seems to withdraw whenever I am around her yet she is very protective of me, as though I remind her of someone. She has obviously suffered drastically,” Malcolm paused, “And at such a young age.”

Malcolm stopped the recording thinking back to his own childhood. Sure, it hadn’t been traumatic but his dad… well his father was a bastard; always had been and always would be. When Hoshi asked him if he was hurt and bleeding a sense of foreboding swarmed over him and he hadn’t been able to get to sleep.

His attention swung to the top bunk as she thrashed around in nightmare. She was pleading in a language he didn’t recognize, the look of distress aging her young features. He placed a hand on her forehead in a comforting manner and she settled down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No, Papa. I don’t want to kill it!” she whispered and lowered the bow and arrow.

To drive the point that she must kill in order to survive, he threw his spear and impaled the struggling creature through its midsection. Taking his daughter by the hand, he approached the dying animal. “Now, shoot it,” he ordered the six-year-old.

The smell of blood filled her nostrils and she wanted to vomit. “I-I can’t,” she said flatly and dropped the bow and arrow that her father had given her and so patiently taught her to use.

“You will!” shouted her father. “Or you don’t eat.”

Hoshi squared her shoulders and held her conviction, her stomach growling in protest. “I won’t kill it.”

She watched in horror as her father took a knife out of his boot and sliced the animal’s throat open, rubbing his hands in its blood.

“You will kill, Hoshi! Or you will starve!” he grabbed her arms in a bruising grip, crushing the blood into her skin. “God, I wish you had inherited an aggressive trait, something you could defend yourself with. No, you had to inherit the gift of gab. How are you going to defend yourself with that? You can’t. You’re going to have to fight and to kill like a normal person!” He smeared the blood on her face as she tried to pull away.

“No, Papa, please,” she shook her head from side to side trembling and retching.

Disgusted, her father shoved her to the ground. “Until you kill your own food, you don’t eat,” he stated as he walked away.

The little girl with the pigtails and blood on her face hunched onto the jungle floor sobbing.

~~~~~~~

“Hoshi, wake up.” Malcolm shook her. She had been sobbing in her sleep for several minutes now and he still couldn’t get to sleep.

She leaned over the side, her eyes opening and threw up all over Malcolm’s chest.

The rant that went through his head never made it to his lips. He just backed up, opened his communicator and contacted the janitorial department, and walked to the shower.

He didn’t even wait until the water turned warm and stepped in with his pajama bottoms on. He didn’t want to be caught in the shower naked when janitorial arrived to clean up that splattering effect of …her… vomit. He could hear the buzzer to his door and he shouted, “Enter.”

The crewman whose unenviable task it was to clean it up, got to work stripping the bed sheets off of Malcolm’s bunk and mopping the floor. “Miss, is there any on your bunk?”

Hoshi shook her head back and forth, shame and embarrassment flooding through her as she looked at the displeased expression on Lieutenant Reed’s face - just like her Papa.

She sat up in bed, unable to get down, as the crewman was not yet finished cleaning, tears streaming down her cheeks unabashed.

“Now, what is the matter with you?” Malcolm glared at her, wet pajama bottoms clinging to his hips.

Finished with the clean up, the crewman excused himself.

Hoshi jumped down off the top bunk, toppling into Malcolm.

Instinctively he wrapped his arms around her and she shoved him away. It was as though she could hear his disapproving thoughts in her head.

She stepped into the bathroom and closed the door gently behind her. Looking at herself in the mirror, she scooped some water up and rinsed her mouth out. She grabbed a towel and blotted her mouth, stepping into an empty cabin.

She was glad Lieutenant Reed was gone. Now she could crawl beneath the warm sheets and go back to sleep without him keeping her up.

***

“Malcolm, could ya come down to cargo bay two? We found some debris and I’d like your input,” Trip’s disembodied voice reverberated throughout the armory.

“I’m on my way, Commander,” Malcolm announced trying to stifle a yawn.

“Can I come?” Hoshi asked as she twirled on the stool bored stiff. She asked to come to work with him today, not wanting to sit around and watch movies all day long.

He readily agreed stating it would be best if he monitored what she ate, that way he wouldn’t get an unexpected surprise again, still disbelieving that all she had to eat since breakfast the previous day was two pieces of cake and a slice of pie.

Guilt niggled at him for forgetting her during lunchtime. He often skipped lunch and ate a large dinner. He spoke to Phlox regarding her frequent vomiting earning a wide grin from the Denobulan physician.

“It is quite common, I assure you. Remember she was basically starving when we found her. It is going to take some time for her body to adjust to proper nutrition and the wide variety we have to select from. Might I suggest some broths that way her stomach is eased into the process?”

By the time Malcolm got back to his quarters, Hoshi was fast asleep, snoring softly.

~~~~

“If you want to come along, that’s fine by me,” Malcolm stated dryly.

Hoshi jumped off the stool and was on his heels out the door, the journey to cargo bay two made in silence, just like meals were eaten in silence, and time in the cabin was spent in silence.

Malcolm opened the doors and motioned for her to walk through first.

Trip was bent over a piece of debris with a perplexed look on his face, but his face lit up at the sight of Hoshi. “Hiya, darlin’? How’s Malcolm treatin’ ya? Still interrogatin’ ya?”

Hoshi looked to the floor, wishing for a hole to fall through. Trip was so open while Lieutenant Reed was closed.

“Malcolm, could you take a look at the debris. We were trying to figure out what it was and what happened,” Trip stated as he motioned to the various pieces around the room.

The room was scattered with debris, each piece varying in texture and color, every piece inscribed with the same symbols.

“The UT won’t lock onto the symbols. Sometimes that thing is more trouble than it’s worth. Actually, it ain’t worth much. Look at all the failed first contacts we’ve had because the matrix couldn’t adapt quick enough. We’re lucky we got out of Klingon territory with most of our hull plating intact.” Trip continued to complain about the UT as Hoshi looked at the symbols, paying little attention to the engineer and little attention to Lieutenant Reed.

The light around the symbols brightened and the symbols begin to move and reshape. The written language was similar to one she had come across before, yet couldn’t quite put her finger on. It reminded her of the Vulcan language. In her mind the symbols contorted again, forming another language.

Malcolm stared at her, as she was practically swaying on her feet. Trip jumped down off the scaffolding, seeing Hoshi sway as well. “Hoshi?”

She whispered one word. “Mine.”

Trip didn’t comprehend at all, thinking she was calling the junk hers.

Malcolm perked up, watching her stare at the debris.

“The explosive casing is over there,” she pointed to a small cylinder that was in the corner of the cargo bay.

“Trip, I don't know how she knows, but I believe her. Evacuate the cargo bay. We need to decompress the cargo bay and get rid of this stuff,” Malcolm stared at Hoshi who was still staring at the debris. “Is there anything else?” The hair on the back of his neck was up and his gut was screaming to trust her.

“There’s another cylinder over there,” she pointed into the huge hunk that Trip had been tinkering with.

“Can you tell if the explosives are active?” Malcolm whispered, backing her and himself out of the cargo bay.

“No,” whispered Hoshi.

With the hatch firmly attached, the warning lights leading up to decompression flashed and the alarms sounded.

They watched as the debris was violently blown into space and watched in horror as a blinding light encased their vision. The ship rocked violently, emergency bulkheads deploying. Malcolm held on to Hoshi as both were brutally forced against one of the bulkheads, sinking to the floor.

It was dark for a split second before auxiliary power kicked in -- alarms deafening him, and smoke blinding and choking him. He could feel Hoshi’s lax form in his arms and knew something was terribly wrong. He felt her, ascertaining no damage to her torso or neck. When he got to her head, he could feel the blood.

Mercifully, the smoke began to clear and he was able to visually assess Hoshi’s injury. She had a gash on her forehead, one that was bleeding profusely. He tore at her clothing, which was already saturated in blood. He had to get her to sick bay, but his leg was stuck. He was pinned.

“Malcolm, ya in here?” came the annoyingly familiar twang.

“We’re in here,” he coughed. “Hurry! Hoshi needs medical attention!”

Trip materialized with other personnel like a holy vision. The look on his face spoke volumes to Malcolm. “We need a back board over here, now!”

Trip knelt down beside the couple and applied pressure to her head wound. “Hurry, God Dammit!”

A flurry of activity surrounded them and Malcolm’s ears started ringing. Soon, a peaceful oblivion surrounded him.

***

“Oh good, you’re awake. How are you feeling, Lieutenant?” Phlox stated as he slipped Velcro strips around the xanographic splint he was attaching to his right foot.

“Groggy,” replied Malcolm as he tried to sit up.

“No, no, no! Lay back down. You’re going to stay here overnight. You managed to get a pretty nasty bump on your head, as well,” Phlox said gently as he coaxed the man onto the biobed.

Malcolm looked around sickbay anxiously until his eyes located the prone form of his charge.

“I induced a coma to help speed up her healing process. Other than a nasty headache when she wakes, she should be back to normal.”

Malcolm laid back, exhaustion overcoming him.

***

“There you go, eat up my prattlings.” Consciousness came to Hoshi like the pounding of waves on a beach. It ebbed and flowed and during this cycle she was able to hear things, things she didn’t understand and things she knew all to well.

She could hear the…De-no-bu-lan…the doctor. Her initial reaction was fear but was soon replaced as she realized he presented no threat to her. He had no intentions of boiling her and eating her. She could feel the fondness and caring he held for his animals. In turn, she could feel the animals greedily competing and eating their food.

“There, there, now! There is plenty to go around!” he chastised the animals as though they understood what he was saying.

She tensed as she felt him near her, but she was unable to flee or move. She felt heavy. A wave of regret and pity filled her, emanating from the doctor. The initial shock that he had felt at discovering his people had been the reason she had been orphaned still niggled at the back of his mind. He didn’t wade in the guilt, but for some reason felt responsible for her difficult life; an image of his son filled his mind. But, Hoshi was unsure as to why it did.

A young woman came in through the doors with a rush of breath. “Lieutenant Reed is cranky. He wants to know when he will be cleared for duty…again!” Crewman Cutler huffed the question as though she had been asked that several times in a short span of time.

“A few more days should suffice and he should be able to walk around,” Phlox answered exasperated with the Lieutenant and his attitude.

“He also wanted to know how Hoshi is doing,” Liz asked, looking over to the prone form with concern.

Hoshi startled. In her mind she could see herself, as though she were Liz Cutler looking at her.

Liz approached her, wondering if she imagined Hoshi’s movement.

“I can’t wake up. I want to wake up, but I can’t. Can you help me?” Hoshi shouted at the top of her lungs in the darkness of her mind.

“That’s odd,” Liz whispered and stood still, something pressing on her mind.

Phlox threw a worm into one of the cages and looked up. “What is it?

“I could swear I just heard Hoshi ask for help, that she wanted to wake up.” Liz crumbled to the ground grasping her head.

“Yes! Yes! I do want to wake up! Can you help me?” Hoshi shouted in the darkness, feeling the sound reverberate around her.

Phlox rushed to Liz and immediately started taking readings. “Your hypothalamus is stimulated.”

“I’m sorry! I don’t want to hurt you. Please let me wake up.”

Liz grabbed her head and groaned. “Wake her up, please! Give her a stimulant! Anything! Just get her out of my head!” Liz pleaded.

Phlox moved toward Hoshi with a hypo spray and Hoshi braced herself, knowing the intent was to wake her up.

She heard the hiss and felt the prick in her neck, the rush of the drug enabling her to open her eyes. The tube down her throat was very uncomfortable and she started to gag. She was finally able to control the reflex and stopped gagging. “Lieutenant Reed,” she cried in her mind.

***

“It’s the strangest thing,” Phlox exclaimed excitedly. “It seems that Hoshi is telepathic. At least that is what Crewman Cutler swears by.”

“What?” Malcolm questioned as he hobbled over next to Hoshi’s bed.

“However, I’ve ran tests and there is nothing on my scanners to back up her claim.”

Malcolm brushed Hoshi’s dark hair off of her forehead. Hoshi looked at him with wildness in her eyes. “When does she get the tube out?”

“We can take it out now, if she wants,” Phlox addressed Hoshi, astonishment that the young woman wasn’t panicking at the site of him.

“On the count of three, exhale as hard as you can,” Phlox instructed as he wrapped his hands around the tubing.

Malcolm took an instinctive step back ready for her to vomit, but she never did.

She coughed and sputtered, reaching a hand out for Malcolm, her voice raspy as it called his name. “Lieutenant Reed.”

He reluctantly went to her side, still considering the possibility that she may throw up again.

She clasped his hand like a lifeline, eying the Denobulan doctor. Malcolm’s eyes followed her line of vision and he patted her on her shoulder. “He isn’t going to hurt you. I thought we already went over this.”

Instinctively she knew the doctor wouldn’t hurt her, but the vision of the Denobulans who attacked her parents still reverberated through her mind. “I know,” she whispered.

Hoshi could feel the questions in her mind; the concern for well-being radiating from …Malcolm…was his first name, and the doctor. She could feel something else from Malcolm, but couldn’t put a name to it.

In order to avoid the numerous questions, she feigned tired. Malcolm stayed as she fell asleep.

***

“Personal log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, December 15, 2153. I am still unable to determine how Hoshi was able to decipher that the debris was the remains of an alien mine. She states she doesn’t remember anything. Dr. Phlox ran some scans, which were inconclusive. Maybe she is some sort of savant. Commander Tucker assures me that his team scanned for explosives, but apparently the alien race uses a polymer that our scanners were unable to detect.

On a more positive note, I am now able to limp and run at the same time. The xanographic splint is working quite well. Of course, Dr. Phlox tells me that my ankle would be completely healed already if I had stayed off of it like he suggested.” Malcolm sighed, shutting the computer off and limping to his bunk, pausing long enough to check on the sleeping form in the top bunk. Reaching out a hand to brush a stray hair out of her eyes, he stopped. For somebody who was supposed to have the emotional maturity of a six-year-old, she sure knew how to throw him for a loop. There was no way he could continue avoiding her. There living arrangements had to change and change soon.

***

“Personal log, Lieutenant Malcolm Reed, December 24, 2153. I am the biggest git on this ship. Where the time went, I haven’t a clue. Tonight is Christmas Eve and I haven’t a gift for Hoshi. I don’t celebrate it as a rule, but Em told me that she discussed it with her and that she is really excited about it. What do you get a wo - girl -no woman, such as Hoshi? I haven’t a clue. Gift giving has never been my strong suit. There is a party tonight and Hoshi has been talking about going to it non-stop. There will be a gift exchange,” Malcolm sighed.

“I don’t want her feelings to be hurt when she doesn’t get anything. Maybe the quartermaster could suggest something,” he mumbled as walked out the door leaving the recording going.

~~~~~~~~

Malcolm shifted from one foot to the other nervously. “A scarf! All the quartermaster had left was a scarf!” Malcolm thought. He didn’t even have any wrapping paper. He didn’t even know why he gave a hoot.

Then it hit him like a gale force wind as Hoshi entered the room with Em, her hair done up with tendrils curling gently around her shoulders, which were bare. Bare! She was wearing a shimmering red sleeveless dress with a sheer shawl over it. So, yes technically her shoulders weren’t bare, but if he could see them, then so could everybody else. That was unacceptable.

He walked up to Em and Hoshi, glaring at Em. “What the hell do you think you are doing?” he motioned to Hoshi.

Em took a deep breath, afraid that he was going to react this way. “It’s Christmas Eve. This is a party. Hoshi was excited about going, but concerned that she had nothing to wear. She was crying in fact. I gave her a dress that she could wear… sir. I honestly don’t see what the problem is. It’s a party, everybody is dressed up.” She stopped and bit her lip as she realized Malcolm was in his uniform.

Hoshi stood by nervously, watching the interplay between the two. She could sense Malcolm’s anger and frustration and Em’s dismay. She had become quite adept at ‘reading’ people, but kept it under wraps. Her father was manipulated due to his curse.

Hoshi stepped up to the two and handed Malcolm his gift.

He stared at it as though it were a snake, anger coursing through him.

She could sense his anger and started to withdraw the gift, not really understanding where his anger came from.

His hand clasped her wrist to stop her and she stared at him wide-eyed.

Anger, happiness and a variety of other things she couldn’t define washed over her, emanating from him.

“You look very nice, Hoshi,” he managed to get out. “I have a gift for you too.” He handed the bag to her.

Em could see the condition of the package Malcolm gave the young woman and knew the man was in trouble. “That’s not the gift you got her, Lieutenant.”

“It’s not?” Malcolm said.

“Wow, thanks for saving my tail. I completely forgot to get Hoshi a present,” Em waved her hands in the air and made a big production out of going over to the Christmas tree, picking an elegantly wrapped present, quickly taking the name tag off.

“This is to you from Malcolm,” Em handed the young woman the present. “And this one is from me.” She grabbed the bag and handed it to Hoshi.

Hoshi sat down, holding the packages, sensing half-truths and nervousness, but from whom she didn’t know. She ran her hand longingly over both packages, noting the stark contrast between the two. She opened the brown bag first, gasping when she saw the contents - a beautiful red silk scarf. She took the delicate item out and rubbed it along her face. Her mother had one like this once, often wearing it to tie her hair back.

She rose and gave Em a quick hug, telling her that it reminded her of her mother.

Malcolm felt a surge of pride in knowing his gift and made her happy.

Hoshi sat back down and unwrapped the ribbons around the box, saving each one. She looked at Malcolm, as she tore into the paper as gently as she could. Once the paper was gone, she lifted the lid, her eyes lighting up brighter than the tree as she lifted a little doll, dark hair pulled straight back and dressed in a Spanish peasant dress.

She hugged the doll to herself, rose and gave Malcolm a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” whispered into his ear.

Malcolm stood still, not breathing, completely forgetting the gift in his hand. A torrent of …he wasn’t even going to go there. He smiled back and managed to spit out the appropriate reply.

He weighed his gift in his hand, knowing it was a book of some sort. He started to unwrap it and looked up to watch Hoshi biting her lip. He was taken by surprise as the title of the book revealed itself from behind the paper. “The Complete Collection of the Brothers Grimm?” He looked up, confused.

“Read the inscription,” Hoshi prodded, knowing he wouldn’t get it until he did.

“You remind me of the Beast, page 126. Love, Hoshi.” He read the inscription out loud, earning a laugh from Em and a chuckle from Trip, who had been watching the entire gift exchange.

Trip couldn’t help but notice the wistful way that Em looked at the doll Malcolm had ‘given’ Hoshi. He knew the truth. He saw her rip the nametag off and pick it up. If he were a betting man, he would bet that Em had brought ‘her doll’ with her on board. They all knew that Hoshi was like a kid but Em treated her special, like a sister. The doll looked weathered, like it had been loved. To give it up must have meant a lot to Em. He wished he were home. If he were home, he would be able to run into his granny’s room and find one of her antique dolls a new home.

Malcolm and Em were exchanging barbs about the Beast analogy when Trip pulled Hoshi aside without them noticing. “Can I ask a favor of you?”

Hoshi grinned, sensing how nervous and exhilarated he was, and nodded.

“Give this to Em, but don’t tell her who it’s from.” He folded her hand around a small box.

“Remember, don’t tell her who it’s from.”

Hoshi watched Trip leave, a puzzled look on her face. She could sense the way he felt about Em. It was warmth with longing… longing for what, Hoshi didn’t have a clue.

She looked at the rectangular box and turned to the two people who were bantering back and forth, relief pouring from them over the ‘gift giving fiasco,’ whatever that meant. The curse was kind of hit and miss. Sometimes she could discern actual thoughts, most of the time she could sense feelings.

She could sense Malcolm was pleased with his gift and felt a measure of satisfaction knowing that she had pleased him. She hadn’t thought nor had the opportunity to get Em anything.

Hoshi approached Em with the box in her hand. A picture of a simple raindrop necklace, gold chain with a clear lavender stone had flashed through her mind when Trip handed her the package. He liked Em a lot.

“Is that for me?” Em asked nonchalantly.

“Yes,” smiled Hoshi, as she extended her hand. Curiosity piqued.

Em took the box from her hand, thanking her and opened it, gasping. She took the necklace from its perch and held it in her palm. “Oh, Hoshi, thank you!” She slid off the table she was sitting on and hugged her.

Hoshi pulled back. “It’s not from me.”

“Then who’s it from?” Em asked, perplexed, as she found no tag on the box.

Not really practiced at the art of subterfuge, Hoshi blurted, “I found it beneath the tree.”

Em hurriedly put the necklace back. “Perhaps it isn’t mine and somebody else is looking for it.”

Hoshi panicked, “No, no. He said to give it to you.”

“Who?” Em prodded gently, as she could tell that the younger woman was embarrassed.

Hoshi looked down and mumbled, “He said I couldn’t tell you who it’s from.” She immediately felt Malcolm in her head, guessing it was Trip, saying it was way too obvious. “He’s had the hots for Em ever since they left space dock.” Em was confused, which was the important thing.

***

“I understand your reasoning, Malcolm, but are you sure it’s wise to uproot Hoshi now? Look at all the progress she has made,” Jon asked nonchalantly and reached down to pet Porthos. It was two o’clock in the morning and his armory officer was bent out of shape.

“Common decency dictates that Hoshi be relocated into a female crew members quarters.” Malcolm left out the part that he had been taking a cold shower when Hoshi walked in on him the night before--it had cemented a decision he had made the week before. She had nonchalantly completed her business and left. Thank God he hadn’t given in to the urge to take his problem in hand. He had been so groggy from the erotic dream that he had forgotten to lock the door.

“Sir, she’s made great strides, but I can no longer deny that she needs… well… a woman’s touch. She’s starting to ask questions that are inappropriate.”

Jon resisted the urge to ask what kind of questions and barely suppressed his laughter. “Well, who do you recommend she bunk with?”

“Lieutenant Gomez and Hoshi are friends… and her quarters are comparable to mine.” Malcolm held his breath.

“Very well, then. You can move Hoshi first thing in the morning. By the way, have you gotten any more information from her?” Jon asked yawning and scratching his head.

“No, sir. She’s pretty much shut down about her past. I’ve done several searches but they are all dead ends,” Malcolm stated, standing at ease.

“Admiral Forrest has his adjunct working on searches too. In the meantime, she’ll be staying with us. The nearest Earth freighter is only a few weeks out of our way, but the shrinks at Starfleet Medical think that it would be detrimental to remove her from Enterprise. What about Crewman Cutler’s insistence that Hoshi is telepathic?”

“Phlox has found no evidence of her claim.”

“Well, maybe Lieutenant Gomez will be able to coax more information out of Hoshi. Is that all?” Jon asked his armory officer, hoping he would take a hint and leave. He desperately wanted to go back to bed.

“Yes, Captain! Thank you!” Malcolm made a hasty retreat and stood outside Captain Archer’s cabin. He certainly couldn’t go back to his quarters, perhaps the armory? He looked down at his bare feet and knew that would not be an option. Well, she certainly has done a bang up job chasing me away, and she hadn’t a clue as to her power over him.

***

“But why?” Hoshi cried. “I’ll do better. I promise! What did I do wrong? I’ll fix it. I-I…” She could tell he had made up his mind by the set of his shoulders and her shoulders slumped in defeat.

Anger surged through her at his indifference and cool demeanor so she clamped her mouth shut, jumped off her bunk and started gathering her things, shoving them into a bag roughly; all but one item - her doll. She held on to that, carrying it with her. She took one last look around the cabin and walked up to Em. “Ready?”

Em nodded, determined not to give in to Hoshi’s tantrum and laugh.

Malcolm watched the two women leave, relief and regret a double-edged sword slicing into his soul.

***

“Hey, don’t take it so rough, Hoshi. You’ve grown up quicker than anybody here could imagine,” Em tried to console the younger woman, but was met with a sob and a back turned to her.

“B-but I haven’t changed any since I’ve been here,” she sniffed, sat up and looked down at her body.

“You’ve changed in more ways than Malcolm is ready to admit,” Em chuckled, patting her on the arm.

Hoshi remained silent waiting for Em to explain.

“Although you haven’t changed physically, you’ve changed up here,” Em motioned to her head. “When your parents died, you were six. You had nobody around to show you things or take care of you,” Em scoffed, “In fact we still aren’t sure how you did survive. They’re aren’t many six-year-olds proficient in archery.”

“My father taught me how to hunt, cook and skin the animals. My mother showed me which plants to avoid and other things,” Hoshi sniffed and continued. She could sense Em’s curiosity. It wasn’t like Malcolm’s always there, lying underneath every thing he did.

“I remember we lived in a camp on Mars colony. There were other families there, other parent’s who were cursed,” she looked down as she could feel Em’s attention pique.

“My father and mother were both telepathic and telekinetic; they could move things with their minds. The overseers knew about my father, but never knew about my mother. His ‘ability was derived by a chromosomal defect’.” Hoshi had heard that line so many times she knew it by heart.

“They didn’t know about my mother. She kept her curse hidden. They didn’t know about…me, either,” Hoshi looked up, a pleading look in her eyes. She could sense Em’s cacophony of emotions and needed to finish.

“I think I have the curse too,” she whispered. “If the overseers find out, they will harvest me. Please, you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone.”

Em’s head was swimming. “Harvest?”

“They will dissect me.”

Those four words made a jolt shoot up Em’s spine. “Not while I’m around.”

“Please, Em. You can’t tell anybody. I can feel the overseers are close by, but they are unaware of me.”

“Can you read my mind, now?” Em stated.

“No, but I sense your confusion,” Hoshi admitted. “Some thoughts come to me every now and again. I never realized I had the ability until I woke up after the explosion.”

“Hoshi, you’ve got to let me tell Phlox. We could help you. We could keep you safe.”

“No!” Hoshi pleaded.

“At least let me tell Malcolm. In the event that the ‘overseers’ come for you, I’m going to need more than myself and my phase pistol to protect you.” Em beseeched.

Hoshi could sense Em’s panic and need to notify her superiors. Deep down, Hoshi felt like a heel for putting Em in the position that she had, but it felt good to finally tell somebody. Her instinct yelled at her for telling Em everything she could remember, but her soul felt lighter and she felt Em’s genuine concern for her well being.

That is what made it easier to tell her. She was like her mother, nurturing, caring and protective. Malcolm was like her father, pushing her to do things and resentful. She still couldn’t read Malcolm; it was like he had erected some type of barrier. If she had to guess at the strong confusing emotions she could read off of him, she would say they were resentment. The more she thought about her father, the more she realized he resented her for having to take care of her … resented her for the things he had to do in order to protect her.

She nodded her head, clutching her doll, giving Em the permission she sought to tell the others. If the overseers found her, she would need everybody on her side that she could get.

*****

TBC

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