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Another Piece of the Action

Thinking of Shelby now, in the uniform McCoy would have recognized from his service days aboard
the Enterprise, nearly took him too far a field. He had to struggle to stay focus. OCD and ADD were just two
of the side of effects of the procedures that were performed on him to impress the Kelvan mental map over his
developing human brain. Great intelligence often came with a price.
Tammas shook his head to clear the fantasy from his mind and forced himself to focus on his goal of
saving McCoy. He opened his eyes and continued down the corridor. He was no stranger in the corridors of
the Enterprise D. He was rarely stranger anywhere, given his celebrity status, but even more so now that he
had recently been deemed a hero by some, including Picard, and a minor nuisance by others, including the
likes of Riker. There was no argument that Garcia had recently made a name for himself in Star Fleet and
touched a few lives in the process. He picked up his pace so as to avoid the potential for idle chat as he made
his way for the armory where the Kelvan control bracelet was being kept. He didn’t have time for the
interruptions. Still, he made an effort to acknowledge the people who met his eyes, offering a faint smile or
nod.
Lt. Jenna D’Sora was on security detail to the armory where the Kelvan bracelet was being kept. She
looked up from her desk as Garcia entered, the door closing behind him. She smiled. They had met once,
briefly, passing in the corridors of the Enterprise. She had asked if he had needed assistance and had thrown
him a casual invitation to be social together. He, of course, remembered the meeting. He remembered
everything. A photographic memory had been another side affect of the Kelvan imprinting procedures, and
contrary to popular opinion, having a perfect memory was not a pleasant thing because one rarely recalled just
one particular detail. When trying to recall any specific item, a flood of information would accompany any
one bit of data. It was not enough just to recall D’Sora; his brain gave him everything about that first moment
as if he were still standing in that exact same moment of time. There was the smell of the perfume she had
chosen that day, the quality of her voice, the people that were in the corridor at the same time, and the way she
had looked at him. In addition to the background sounds, like doors opening or closing, the hum of life
support, and the quality of the air, there was also the internal dialogue he had been thinking, his emotional
state, the grumbling of his own stomach, which caused him to consider if he was presently hungry.
“Tammas,” she said, getting up and coming around the desk to greet him. “How are you doing?”
“Honestly?” Tammas asked. He had remembered he hadn’t liked her on that initial meeting, and as he
studied her he realized his feelings for her hadn’t changed. He didn’t know why he didn’t like her, and he
didn’t know if his memory from the first encounter was influencing that, but he pushed his subconscious
objections away. He had to deal with her if he wanted to succeed in his mission.
“Always,” Jenna said. Her expression suggested that she was surprised by his question.
“I was feeling a bit lonely,” Tammas said, shuffling his feet. “I was wondering if I might buy you
dinner, if that’s the correct colloquialism for asking you out.”
“Well, yeah,” Jenna said, brightening even more, smile lines leaving her eyes. “Sure! I’m off duty in
a couple hours.”
“Oh,” Tammas said, seeming sad. He let his gaze fall to the floor.
She chuckled. “It’s not that bad. You’re welcome to keep me company until then. I’ve finished my
paper work. Just sort of waiting out the clock.”
“May I?” he asked, stepping closer to her.
“Well, sure, Tammas,” Jenna said.
“Call me Tam,” he said, stepping even closer to her. He was close enough to feel her body heat
radiating off of her. “May I ask you something personal?” he asked.
Jenna nodded, leaning back against her desk. He was so close to her now that she wanted to hold her
breath, but settled for restricting her breathing, redirecting it for fear of bad breath. “I would like that,” she
admitted. She became aware of her hands trembling and gripped the edge of the desk.
With a finger on her chin, he turned her head gently back, his eyes locking on hers. His question came
in the form of a kiss, his hands going to either side of her face. Her left knee came up a little, and her right leg
moved to allow him to come closer to her. After kissing her, he pulled back just far enough so that she could
breathe. They were sharing air and she no longer worried if her breath was bad. His wasn’t. It smelled and
tasted like Spearmint. Her eyes remained closed as she absorbed the moment.
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