“You have questions, I’m sure.”  The middle-aged humanoid sat across the table from Lieutenant Hazel Wallaker.  His skin was an odd shade of grey, and his eyes reflected a faded green.  He spoke halting as if something was preventing the smoothing out of his speech.  He was wearing a simple shirt and pants.

Hazel looked at the PADD and back to the creature.  “Understatement of the century.  What do I call you?”  She had arrived at Montana Station within the hour, debriefed Fleet Captain Fontana, and then been led to a small room with blank walls and an unassuming white table.

“I do not remember my name.”  He cocked his head to the side, “You are the one who discovered me.  You must name me.”

She reflected on how upset she had been being left out of the team that was to investigate him, and yet now, when confronted with having to navigate a discussion with him, she was floundering.  Her hubris had once again caught up with her.  That thought gave her an idea, “Hub.  I’ll call you Hub.”

His head remained tilted, staring at her. He appeared to be processing her new name for him: “Hub. I accept.”  He returned his head to its normal position. “You must know—I am dying. I only have a limited time to carry the message I was instructed to deliver.”

Hazel frowned. “How much time?”  She didn’t want to ask the wrong questions, and suddenly, Hub would fall over and die, leaving her with another embarrassing failure on her record.

“I do not have a comparable measurement to yours.  My message is simple.  You must return Doctor Galdrid Ahon to the Tholians.”

“How…what…what?”

He blinked.  Twice. “You must return Doctor Galdrid Ahon to the Tholians.  Was I not clear in my first statement?”

Hazel rubbed her fingers against her temples, “You were clear.  That’s…not going to be easy.  More like impossible.”  His eyes bore into her, waiting for an answer that would satisfy him.  She briefly explained the El Aurian woman’s history, acts, and the growing case that the JAG was building.

“We are aware of her activities.  We have been visited by her previously.  Her work remains unfinished with us.  I believe they call it a ‘contract’ in the Federation.”  Hub’s face remained impassive.  If he had emotions, they had long been stripped away.

She asked, “What happens if we do not return Doctor Galdrid Ahon to the Tholians?”

He instantly replied, “We would take her by any means necessary.  This is not a threat. This is a statement of fact. Do you require further details?”

Hazel could hear the pounding of her heartbeat as the conversation continued.  She was going to need to step outside, and soon.  Otherwise, she was liable to throw up on Hub.  She croaked out, “No…you made your point clear.”  She tried a different question, “What are you?  Tholian?  Human?”

“I was built with a maligned purpose—a cursed child.  Part of me is Tholian.  The rest of me…it is a mystery that will be lost to time.  This moment is my penance.  A use for me has been found.”  He continued to stare straight at Wallaker, “I wish to clarify something with you to ensure your understanding. I spoke about my impending death.  Once I return Doctor Galdrid Ahon to the caste group that seeks her continued contractual work, I will die to grant her further life.  And no, I do not know how this will occur, only that it will.”

She breathed a small sigh, relieved she wouldn’t run his clock out.  “May I step out to speak to my superiors?”  He gave an indifferent nod, and she bolted for the door, coming to a stop before she ran over Fleet Captain Geronimo Fontana and the observation room full of command officers.  She waited until the door closed, “So…what do I tell him?”

Fontana rocked in the back of his heels, “If we take his statement of the consequences of us ignoring their request at face value, they’ll wipe the sector with us.”  He turned to captains Dread, Walton, and Pantuso, “I know my history – tangling with the Tholians has never ended well for anyone.”

A new voice, lilted and annoyed, broke in, “This is absurd.”  Sector Judge Advocate Archibald Davidson stepped forward, “We have laws, regulations, and precedents.  They cannot just…up and scarper away with this genocidal madwoman.  I must protest.  I will protest.”

Geronimo chose his words carefully, “Commander Davidson, I suspect that JAG, Starfleet, and the Federation would rather keep us in place out here in the Rimward rather than have to sift through the wreckage to identify us.  I can-”

Davidson cleared his throat, “That is hyperbole, Fleet Captain Fontana. You cannot be at peace with letting her return to them – knowing what work she may have done for them previously?”

Lieutenant Grace Albright forced a chortle down as she held up a PADD, “Commander, we know that the caste group is smaller…and at the edges of the Tholian society.  The threat she poses with the work she does with them is not in dispute.  What we can’t ignore is as small of a caste as they may be, they still can put a significant attack force on the field.  It’s a no-win scenario – we lose either way.”

The JAG officer shook his head, “I will file an official protest and inform my JAG superiors.”  With nothing left to say, he pushed his way past the rest and was gone.

Geronimo looked around, “Who wants to be the one to tell the good doctor she gets to live another day?”

“The Tholians never cease to amaze me.” Doctor Galdrid Ahon laughed softly from her bed in the brig, “Your last words to me the last time we spoke…I am amused you chose to return.”

Helena sat in the chair, disgusted.  “I still mean the words.  I can’t imagine the Tholians are pleasant to work with, even as a contractor.  Given that you fled from them…I wonder how that reception will be when you return.”

“I provide a service they need – I am the je ne sais quoi they cannot find anywhere else.  I ran away because I was running out of ideas.  What may save me this time is that I have learned much since I left.” She turned to face Dread, “You may yet get your wish for my fate.  I may tire of it eventually…and they will not allow me to be so free this time.  I will die in their employ, Captain Dread.  Does that help?”

Helena stood, “No, it does not.  You will be transferred to a shuttle with Hub as your pilot.  Your case with JAG remains open and actionable upon your return.”

Ahon asked, “How long will you carry me with you, Captain?  How long will your desire for justice sit in your heart, knowing it will never come?”

Dread made for the door, “Until I know you’re good and dead, Doctor.  Godspeed.”  She stalked down the hallway, her vision blurring at the sudden onset of rage.  Helena closed her eyes, ratcheting her emotions back under control.  She tapped her badge, “Dread to Halsey – she’s ready for transport.  Get her the hell off this station.”  She paused, “Please.”