The aliens have orange fur and are basically bipedal cats called the Tzenkethi. It has not yet been explained how Chris ended up in this cell to begin with. The audience takes the same journey of discovery Chris and his keeper are taking together.
She was staring at him. Reclined on her sofa, hand at her mouth, she stared at him with acute interest as he struggled to break free of his handcuffs.
“Do you enjoy watching people struggle?” He demanded finally.
“When I see a human, they usually do not struggle for long.” She replied easily. The fur around her mouth twitching in delight. She stood up and sauntered closer to his cell. “Human behavior is inexplicable. Even if you get those restraints off you will still be imprisoned by the force barrier.” She rubbed her thumb against her 3 fingers. “Sincerely, why do you bother?”
“'Hope is eternal until we are dead. Then there's no need.' Old Mojave wisdom.”
“Mojave, is that a race or a region?”
“A region.” He answered with some surprise.
She sat back on her sofa and began twirling a thin rope, looking not unlike a cat playing with a long blade of grass. “You are a curious one.” She continued lazily. “I've been here 70 years and have never met a human like you. It is a pity imperial law does not allow for exceptions.”
“How do you mean?”
“More inclined to ask questions before punching. More prone to defiance than pleading.”
“I'm not certain why I should be...” She pinched the rope with the flat of her thumb and his body instantly seized, as if someone had taken hold of his back and yanked upward.
“You do not seem to understand much of anything. It is...most curious actually.”
She lifted the rope as if examining the end and he felt dizzy, light-headed, as if he was floating in the air. She pressed the point of her claw into the rope and suddenly Chris felt the point of a sword against his throat. If she pressed into the braided fabric he would feel the sword press into his skin, suffocating him, if not slicing his vocal cords.
“Please...” he gasped.
She dropped the rope. Instantly his pain ceased. He wasn't even breathing hard.
“Kochalk Mirach.” A man's voice said from behind his jailer. “Are you done playing with your food?” He demanded in English.
“I'm well aware of my duties.” She answered. “Leave him for the officers.” She was gone.
“I sincerely suggest you try to get some sleep.” Chris sat on the ledge that was obviously meant to be his bed and looked at the floor. The man turned and left without another word. Chris shook his head as if to clear it. Something was incredibly wrong here. He didn't know what. And he did not like not knowing. When next he opened his eyes he had a new visitor. One that was not as clearly female as his prior guard and who quite clearly was a person of authority.
“You've made quite an impression there human.”
“Why do you call me that?”
“It is what you are, for starters. Now tell me who you are.”
“My name is Captain Christopher Pike.” The man said almost professionally.
“A captain? That is unusual. Captain of what ship?”
“The USS Enterprise.”
“Impossible. There has not been a human captain of that ship for decades.”This female, if it was a female, had darker orange fur on her paws and her face had streaks of black. Her voice was smoother, silkier than the other guard, reflecting both maturity and experience.
“And what is your name.” Christopher intoned.
“I am Solivar.” The officer replied simply. It could not be doubted she was an officer in whatever star-fleet she served. She stared at him impassively for several minutes.
“What is it?” He asked shortly.
“I'm trying to decide what use to make of you.”
“I take it you're not used to troubling yourself with human prisoners?”
“You would be incorrect. Although I admit I find you more intriguing than most.”
Her lieutenant stepped forward. She raised her hand sharply. “Da, dobro znam što biste učinili s njim. da je bilo po vašem. Ali moja volja prevladava.” Her subordinate backed away from her.
“That pup had his ideas what to do with me?” Christopher guessed.
“Quite right. But my will prevails on such matters.”
“So what are you planning on doing with me?” 'God this feels freakishly familiar!'
“Bring Sarrin back. We will see what she can learn. And if she's as ready as she believes ” Solivar turned to the 'pup' at her side. “Stay here until she returns; do not touch him.”
“Why are you bothering to speak in English?”
“I see no reason to hide this part of our intentions from you.” Solivar answered directly.
“How considerate of you.” He did not say this with doubt or sarcasm, more like he was acknowledging the truth of his statement. These people were thoughtful, in their own way.
Sarrin, as was apparently her name, stared hard at her prisoner. There was a sharpness, a set seriousness to her face. She sipped from an ornate white mug.
“I take it this is not a 'carrot and stick' situation?” The man said from inside his cell.
“Your words make no sense to me.” She replied shortly.
“Are you Sarrin?” The woman nodded. “Is it your function to try to coax answers out of me gently while your superior tries to force them out of my throat.”
“I see your meaning. You want to know if I am being falsely nice, if I am simply playing with you. In other words if my restraint and interest are merely a facade.”
“I wouldn't have put it quite that way, but yes.”
“I am merely trying to study you. I want you to make sense to me. That is my motivation.”
“I am going to assume English is not your first language.”
“What is 'English'?”
“Ah...nevermind.”
“Did they not give you anything to eat yet?” Sarrin inquired. Chris shook his head. She began tapping on her console. “I'm going to give you some lombark meal.” She stated matter of factly. A thick brown mug, wider and taller than her own appeared on the table in front of her. She looked up at him sharply. “You have to get to the back of that cell or I can't feed you.” Chris backed up against the wall, his hands behind him. “It'll only be half a day's ration.” She continued as if there had been no interruption. She slid the mug across the floor, it stopped just inside the cell. He picked up the mug and looked at the thick brown liquid inside it.
“You're not drinking coffee are you?” He asked with a light humor.
“No. I'm not sure what you'd call this. It's a drinkable food. Liquid bread?”
“Close enough. Military rations I take it?” Sarrin did not reply. Chris drank half of the mug in peaceful silence. No small feat when ones hands are bound. He set the mug down. “Thank you.”
“Welcome.” Sarrin returned. She sat on her sofa and began fingering the rope again.
“Why are you doing this?” Chris urged.
“Surely you're intelligent enough to figure that out.” Sarrin answered, almost playfully.
“I don't mean your kind, I mean you personally. Your compatriot was wrong. You are not playing with your food. You don't even want to be doing this.” Chris insisted. “So why are you?”
I'm not obliged to tell you anything. Although I admit you continue to surprise me. Eventually I WILL figure out what makes you so frustratingly unique.”
“Don't you mean 'frustratingly defiant'?”
“That''s not the only thing that makes you so – To-Ka!” Sarrin said suddenly, holding her hand flat out to him, like she was telling him to stop. Which he quickly realized is exactly what she was doing. “Do yourself a favor, don't try anything.” She told him sternly. She reached to her left, pressing her palm flat against the arm of the sofa. The 'force barrier was restored.
“Did you do that on purpose?” Chris inquired. “Leaving the barrier down.”
“No.” Sarrin answered simply. “I am surprised you didn't try to escape.”
“I won't lie and tell you it didn't cross my mind. But I was a little distracted.”
“Your honesty is very refreshing. It usually requires much encouragement to get a straight-forward answer out of our prisoners.”
“Okay, I'm not kidding here, what do you want from us?!” Chris near-barked.
“ 'Us'?” Sarrin replied.
“Me. What do you want from me.” Chris rushed, covering.
“You said 'us'. Are there more like you? Yes..there are others.” She answered, without waiting for a reply. “Your concern for them is evident. How many more of you are there?” Chris did not answer. She wrapped her hand around the rope. “How many humans came with you?” Still Chris did not speak. “Surely you must realize there are things that make this,” She lifted the rope gently. Chris braced himself, but no pain came. “feel like a slap on the wrist.” She pulled gently on the rope until it stretched taunt across her face. Chris's throat tightened as he felt his arms bent backward. All she would have to do was pull a little harder and the tendons in his shoulders would pull themselves apart. She gazed at him across the rope. “It's a technique called 'traumatic hypnosis'. Quite effective, yes?” Chris didn't respond except to nod his head. Sarrin unceremoniously dropped the rope again. She leaned to her right, away from the wall and the rope. Her eyes closed for a moment. “I wish I was doing a better job of this.”
“May I now ask you a question?”
“You mean beyond that one? You can ask.”
“Are you being tested as well?”
“In a way.” Sarrin admitted. “They wanted to see how I would handle an interrogation, what methods I would employ and how long I could stay here. The only thing is, I can't think of any questions to ask you. Well, none that can't wait four hours anyway.” She actually yawned.
“Ne napuštajte svoju stanicu!” A harsh voice said over the intercom.
'Who said I was leaving?” Sarrin replied in English.
The doors sealed themselves and the lights dimmed to half their intensity. “TAC: 2-3-9 seventy-four Alpha Orion-3.” Sarrin said sharply. “I set the room at 74 degrees. It's all I can really do to make you comfortable.” Sarrin explained as she stretched herself on the floor her feet toward Chris' cell, her head toward the couch, her left-leg bent so her foot was flat on the tile. “Kether Prax. Nox.” She told thin air. The room went completely dark.
Chris lay down with his eyes to the ceiling. His gaze drifted to Sarrin. Is this a test from her? Does she expect me to try to run? She wants to see if I will try to run. Is it a good idea. Probably not. Do I want to get her into trouble? No I don't think so. It is strange, I would expect a feline to lie on her side with all fours on the ground, or on her stomach like a cheetah. Not on her back like that. 'but she doesn't' live on all fours' his mind answered itself. 'She's sleeping in such a way that she can jump to her feet in an instant if alarmed or startled. She's resting 'at the ready'.
“Captain Pike, are you there?” La'an's voice was barely perceptible in the muffled air. Her voice was coming from somewhere to Chris' left.
“Over here.” He whispered urgently.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, I'm fine. In a cell, otherwise I'm fine.”
“Do Not. Move.” Sarrin's cold voice rang out.
'Of course. Sarrin was waiting for this. Knowing there were others on this ship with me, they would wait for someone to try to rescue me. And cats see much better in the dark than humans.'
“TAC. Lagan, mekan, ali jasan.” The lights came on, soft and low. Sarrin was staring hard at La'an, her face as impassive as before. “For your own sake human, do. Not. Move.”
La'an followed the woman's very sound advice and held herself still.
“I congratulate you. This was a most impressive trap.” Chris said with a little bitterness.
Sarrin did not even spare him a glance. “Tar-ek dahl. No senta Ca-rine Me-tai.” A few moments later another guard came in.
“Herinner mij eraan om nooit aan jouw wijsheid te twijfelen.” The guard said to Sarrin.
“You might as well speak in their language.” Sarrin said in English.
“Waar sturen ze die idioten heen, naar die bevroren woestenij die is gereserveerd voor hen die hun plichten niet hebben vervuld?” The guard replied.
“Hell. And I take your meaning.” Sarrin answered instantly.
“Translation please?” Chris prompted respectfully.
“He asked what was the human name of the frozen wasteland traitors and liars are sent to.”
“It isn't a frozen...” La'an began.
Chris smiled broadly. “He meant hell would freeze over before he spoke English in front of us.”
“What is your name and what have you done to my captain?” La'an demanded.
“He really is a captain of a starship. That is interesting.” Sarrin noted. “Other than arresting his movement slightly, we have done nothing to him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“No actually she's right about that. I've been stuck in this cell for 3 days – and they forgot to give me my ration last night. Other than that they haven't really done anything to me.”
“Wat zullen we met deze andere doen?” The other guard inquired, indicating the female human. Sarrin replied in a long string of her native language, lifting her arm in front of her, with her fingers raised, as if holding a snow globe. The guard smiled and nodded. “Duur?”
Sarrin tilted her head, considering the question. “TAC: What is the clock?”
“The time is 0-seven hundred hours.”
“Five.” Sarrin decided. “But not yet. What is your name?”
“La'an.” The human woman answered honestly.
“La'an. That is not a normal human name?” Sarrin pondered aloud. “Not that it matters. How many more of you are there?” Neither human spoke. Sarrin turned to the human she found so fascinating. “KRIS!” She barked. “How many more humans like you are there here?”
“My entire crew is 'like me'. As far as Io know, La'an is the only one to come with me.”
Sarrin studied Chris for several moments, her head tilted to one side. “That is likely true.” She turned to the human female. “La'an, my lieutenant is going to take you to a very small room. Resist and you might not see your captain again. Harsh though we can be, we are not liars.”
“You can trust her on that.” Chris advised.
La'an was led away by the male guard. Sarrin walked to the table and picked up a bottle of oil.
“Are you an anomaly or a specialist?” Chris prompted.
“Explain.”
“You are more inclined to ask questions before punching. And you don't seem to have much of a stomach for outright interrogation or torture. Does that make you an outcast among your people? Or are you simply of a different caste?”
Dipping her finger into the small jar, she spread its oil under her nose and across her left wrist. “More the second one. I'm not a wounded heart or anything..”
“Bleeding heart.” Christopher corrected automatically.
“The brute force attack doesn't always work with prisoners and when that is observed, I'm called in to apply alternatives. In some races a soft answer leads to increased malleability. It's not as though humans are the only life-forms we ever put in cells. Studying our enemies helps us to understand them and most of my superiors understand that.” She put the bottle back on the table and stretched herself on the floor much like she had done, except her feet were toward the sofa, her head was toward his cell and she was on her side.
More than an hour passed in this way. “What did you do with her? Where did you send her?!” Sarrin did not reply. She did not even raise her head. “Tell me!” Chris urged. “Please, I don't care what recompense you demand for it, I need to know what's happening to her!” Sarrin took a deep breath and let it out slowly, but did not answer. “Sarrin, I take your meaning.” Chris began, forcibly calming his voice. “Please, will you tell me what is happening to my second officer? You said she is in a very small room. I accept that. Tell me, is anything else happening to her?”
“If you mean is she in an agonizer or something, the answer is no. She is being held in a place where none of my people can see her and all she can see is the ceiling.” Sarrin propped herself up on her elbow and looked at Chris who looked back at her, nonplussed. She held up her hand again. Chris now saw the similarities between that pose and a pedestal risen high in the air. “She is on a table so high there is little space between her and the roof.” Sarrin finished.
“For five hours?” Chris guessed.
“She will spend the next five hours with no one to talk to and nothing to hear. What happens to her after that is up to you. Do you fully grasp my meaning?”
Chris nodded sadly. “Her continued safety is entirely dependent on my continued cooperation.”
“Yes. And you were right before.”
“About what?”
“You did not get your ration last night.” She placed her hand on the table, which he now noticed stretched between her sofa and his cell. “Nosiette. Ca-rinn tomai-dahl.” A large mug of the 'liquid bread' appeared. This had an aroma of hazelnut to it. She motioned him to back away from the force barrier. He did, his hands behind his back and flat against the wall, as before. She walked up to the cell, placed the mug just inside the barrier and backed away, keeping her eyes on his shoulders to his waist. She sat down on the sofa, her legs to the side, pulled close to her chest. She placed her hand on the armrest and the force barrier was again restored.
“With the force barrier activated, I don't really need the restraints."
“You know the language of diplomacy. You speak in terms you know I will understand.”
“It helps to be talking to someone who's just as good at it.”
Sarrin swallowed hard, took a small, silver device from her belt and pressed the blue tip. The restraints on Christopher's wrists released themselves.
“I say it again: Thank You.” Christ said with feeling.
“What else would you like?”
“If you are sincerely asking...”Chris began.
“NE-ver doubt my sincerity.” Sarrin barked.
“Forgive me.” Chris apologized. “Something to drink, something cool to my throat.”
“Toren Kall. Notsanta E-Se-kaia nesta-Zaki.” Sarrin said to thin air.
“Which means exactly what?”
“I asked my attendant to bring me a human drink from the cooler.”
Sarrin did not speak and Chris did not speak to her until the attendant came in carrying a dark purple glass, translucent and cone shaped. Sarrin put the cup to her lips. “Dasar bodoh. Keluar dari sini, sekarang! Gėrimas iš vynuogių, o ne iš grūdų. Šį kartą tai padaryk teisingai!” Her attendant looked at her with admiration. Her prisoner looked at her as if she were insane.
“Do I want to know what you just said?” Chris asked, with a small amount of apprehension.
“It roughly translates to 'You idiot, you brought me the wrong one!' I asked for a drink made from grapes, not one made from grains.”
“You're entire race are truth-speakers, aren't you?”
“Our soldiers are yes. It's part of our military code of honor. And I take it you have a particular question you wish to ask me.”
“Yes. What you're doing with your hand..flexing your fingers, rubbing your thumb against your fingertips. Do all of your people do that?”
“Those of us who have been forced to live in environments not suitable to our kind.”
“It's how you cope with being cooped up on a starship. You can't run around and stretch your legs, so you stretch other appendages, like your arms and hands.”
“A good guess, but no. The planetary conditions of most worlds we investigate are not entirely compatible with our own physiology. Some of us stay for weeks and months on these worlds. After such prolonged exposure our bones...hurt.”
“Investigate. You mean for colonization?”
“Yes. Now get some sleep. You will need your strength tomorrow. Trust me on that.”
“At this point it wouldn't occur to me not to trust you.”
Sarrin
hesitated. “Captain, there is something that according to standard
protocol I should have asked you in the first hour I had you here in
front of me."
“Whether Starfleet is a military
space-fleet?” Christopher guessed.
"No. Whether you
yourself have ever been captured by the enemy before. If you have
anything by which to judge... or against which to measure your time
here."
"I'm going to have to ask for clarification on that."
"Have you ever been taken prisoner and ended up in a cage?”
Chris's eyes darted up, then to the floor. He was searching his memory. "I have been trapped by aliens who threw me in a cave behind an energy barrier. Looking back on it, I don't really think of it as being imprisoned, because my alien keepers treated me more like a specimen in a zoo than a prisoner in a cell."
“So most of the conditions still fit. Except for the aspect of your captors being 'the enemy'."
“Very much so. Why the sudden interest?”
“As I said, I should have asked you this right after leaning you were the captain of a starship. I am merely correcting my own breach of protocol.” She smiled coyly. “And I can't help thinking you're taking being trapped in a cell with no idea why you've been captured remarkably well. I wondered if this was or wasn't your first time.”
“You and I are both in a journey of discovery Sarrin. I'm piecing things together as we go along. And being in a cell in itself seems to fade compared with the incomparable opportunity to learn and understand. There are few things more important to us. Most especially...to me.”
“So... 'diplomacy' wasn't the right word.”
“Right enough.”
Sarrin nodded sagely. “One last thing before 'night mode'. Your second officer, she is a solider?"
"Very much so...why do you ask?"
The final scene in this play has been created but not written down. It turns out Chris and La'an are about 200 years into their future, in a future where the Federation and the Tzenkethi are at war. Hence Tzenkethi familiarity with humans and Sarrin's comment about '70 years and I've seen nothing else'. Sarrin will recognize that Chris and La'an don't belong here At All and send them back where they are from. At the last second Sarrin tells La'an. "You have your grand-daughter's eyes."
