DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the
property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are
the creation and property of Catherine Kay and is copyright (c) 2000 by
The Allure Of A Beautiful Woman
Once again I stand with my captain in another ambassadorial situation. The zeenite deliveries have fallen off and Star Fleet has sent us to find out why. The chancellor is spouting what Dr. McCoy would say is "Poppy Cock!" I must admit that I do not know the definition but the sentiment seems right.
How many times did I stand with my father after the age of 7 and listen to diplomats and dignitaries spin lies and deceits until my mind was practically stupefied with boredom? Though I tried hard not to show my disrespect, somehow my father always knew of my eventual inattention. He would invariably assign me to write a paper on the issues that had been discussed that evening. And as hard as I strive for logic and emotional equanimity, how I hate diplomacy.
I try to paste a mask of dispassionate interest on my face as the chancellor flatters me with platitudes about Vulcan logic. The man is as phony as Harry Mudd's guarantees. I can tell that Jim thinks so too.
The only thing I find even remotely intriguing is the engineering of these great cloud cities. Every room I have entered has been aesthetically pleasing as well. Nothing over done. Nothing out of place and everything designed to enhance the light and the clouds and the sky. I find it fascinating to the point where I actually comment on it.
Jim shoots me a strange look when I say that I find their city beautiful. He is right. It is unusual. But it is all that keeps me from finding some excuse to return to the ship.
And now the Chancellor, in the inexorable, predictable grind of diplomacy is introducing some favored family member. I can tell it in his voice. I almost sigh.
They have always introduced some spoiled sot of theirs as beautiful beyond measure even if they look like a tsarnot, a particularly slimy fish that lives in the quicksand of Vulcan. I carefully compose my face so as to seem at least receptive to the idea.
What walks in is definitely not a tsarnot. She is beautiful. Of golden hair and alabaster skin and large blue eyes. She is the epitome of the air and sun and clouds. Her scent is fresh and sweet like a breeze blowing through mowed hay on earth.
I shake myself. I will not be lulled by mere physical beauty or the gravity defying silver gown that seems to accentuate every curve and reminds me so strongly of the feat of engineering that holds this city to the clouds.
I decide that to shatter the illusion of pure culture, beauty and grace, all she will have to do is open her mouth. She is obviously rich and pampered and therefore undisciplined and spoiled.
To test my theory I ask her something about interdimensional physics. Something only a well educated person would know.
She can answer me. I pause and find suddenly that underneath all that beauty is a superb mind even if it has been sheltered and programmed to accept the lies inherent in this culture. I feel intrigued. Fascinated to the point where I barely hear the Chancellor gloat over Droxine's victory in my little intelligence test. She captures my imagination. Can I turn her? Can I make her see what her society really is? She watches me with a fascination that I have seen in other women when charmed by Captain Kirk. I intrigue her also. I know it.
I glance at Jim and see him looking at me with a speculative expression. I find his look somehow uncomfortable, almost embarrassing. I can feel a slight blush start in my cheeks and I look away from him back to Droxine.
Suddenly I am aware that Droxine and I are alone. I glance around and find that the chancellor and the captain have moved ahead of us. When did that happen? Droxine seems to be aware of their location for she falls in step behind them and waits a beat for me to escort her. Obviously I am more affected by her than I realize. I need to be careful. I will not fall into the roll of lady's man as has my Captain on too many occasions.
Soon everyone has retired for the evening but I find myself unwilling to leave her. I never want this night to end. She is every fantasy I have ever had. Blond, fair, tall and blue eyed with intelligence and grace to match. This one could give any of the courtiers in the Vulcan court a run for their money and come out on top. I find that the moonlight on the balcony is collected into her hair until it fairly glows with an inner light. I want to touch it. I want to so badly that I am tense. I dare not. I realize that to do so would break down whatever control I have left and I could take her right here.
Suddenly, I realize that there has been trouble. My captain has been
attacked in the next room. And I have been so distracted as to fail for once
hearing everything that is going on around me. I am ashamed and see once and
for all the dangerous nature of a beautiful woman. I retreat to the ship not so
much that I need to go there to find the captain as I need to distance myself
from her. What a fool I have been to think that I could have turned her. She
just about turned me and I lost the captain because of it.