Two decks above main engineering, Viola Nyman stood in the middle of a carpeted corridor, blinking. A moment ago, the green alien had been nowhere in sight. Then there had been that flash of blue light, and now she was practically on top of him.
"Hey, little guy," she said soothingly. She reached out a blue-clad arm towards the stranger.
The creature tossed his head, then began to say something in that weird, chirping language of his.
"Woah, woah, slow down," Nyman held her hands out, palm up, in a gesture of supplication. "I can't understand anything you're saying. I know you can't understand me. I don't know why the universal translator doesn't work with you, but it doesn't."
The alien had waited patiently through Nyman's speech, but now began whistling and chirping again. His small, three-fingered hands appeared from the mess of green fur as he produced a series of gestures. He threw his arms towards the point where the wall of the corridor met the floor. Then he brushed the outside edges of his own fur before throwing his arms wide. Then he indicated the same point, where the corridor met the floor, and chirped loudly.
"I – something about that point? That place, right? Or whatever's on the other side of the floor there?" Viola asked.
The stranger clearly did not understand her. He stamped a small foot, not visible through his fur, but audible. Then he gestured again.
Nyman knelt down beside him, and pointed to the same point the alien had indicated.
The little creature's whistles jumped in pitch. He danced around, making a complete circle before zipping over to the centre, the indicated point, and moving up and down with a wave-like movement.
Nyman watched in confusion for a long time. Then, she had an idea.
"You want to go over there? One deck down and in the room on the other side of the wall?" Viola asked.
The alien looked at her in confusion, chirping. Nyman pointed to the spot where the wall met the floor. Nyman made a digging motion, and the visitor broke into high-pitched, excited whistles. Nyman stood up, brushing off her black trousers. She began to walk down the corridor.
The stranger chirped an incomprehensible question.
Viola turned and faced him, then made an elaborate gesture of her own. She stretched out her arm, then, with a bend at the elbow, waved the alien down the corridor.
"Come on," she said, "the turbolift is this way."
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How to Break the Prime Directive (and get away with it)
FanfictionFour young Starfleet ensigns find themselves in a dilemma after bringing an alien from a pre-warp civilization onto their starship. They know they've broken the prime directive - is there any way they can manage to stay out of trouble?
