The Sands of Time (A Star Trek: The Next Generation Fan Fiction)

Chapter Three

I jerked back without conscious thought, recoiling up out of the chair and backing up against the table. When I bumped into it, I gripped the cold metal tightly, feeling the edges bite into my fingers. I could feel my heart beat faster at the mention of the name, a throw-back to a time when fear could be overcome by as simple an act as running.

"Tasha," Will was standing also. "I know you don't want to go back. Please, just hear me out."

Knowing that my fear was irrational didn't make it go away. Feeling frightened and feeling foolish for feeling that way, I turned the chair back to its correct position and sat down.

"You okay?" Will asked as I sat.

"Yes. But I'm not going back to Sandor, Will."

Will sighed, running his hand over his face and then clenching his hair. "Just let me tell you why I'm here," he said. "And then you can decide what you want to do." I nodded in agreement. Of course I'd hear him out; he had come all this way for help, after all. And I could handle just hearing about Sandor.

"There's a stable wormhole a few light-years from Sandor," Riker began. "It's other end is nearly 500 lights years away and five years ago the Federation colony established a colony on a planet called Minos III at the other end of the worm hole. We've been using it to transport food and medical supplies there because it's in a planetwide drought." He paused and I nodded again for him to continue. I'd heard of the Sandorian wormhole several times but I'd never known where it led. It had not seemed important.

"Two weeks ago, Sandor blockaded the wormhole and declared it their property. They're not letting anyone through either side without paying tribute, and they want weapons from the Federation."

"That sounds like Sandor," I interrupted. I'd grown up with an idyllic view of my homeworld but that vision had long ago been destroyed.

"Well, every since the blockade started, Minos III has been on its own. We haven't received any transmissions but they didn't have many supplies left when the cargo ship was supposed to have arrived. They're going to run out soon."

"Haven't you tried to reason with them?" I asked.

Will nodded. "We offered other forms of tribute and offered to negotiate but they seem to only want technology. We don't have formal relations with their government so we can't even talk. They refuse to allow any humanitarian ships through."

I leaned back in my chair as Riker finished, raising my fingers to my forehead and rubbing it. I had never tried negotiating with the Sandorian government before but I could picture them being as stubborn and cruel as Will had described. In my experience, Sandorians were a close-minded and selfish race, interested only in what involved themselves and deaf and blind to the troubles of others.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked.

"Talk to them," was Will's immediate reply. "Try to reason with them. You grew up there; you know them better than anyone else we have. They might listen to you."

I shook my head. "They won't listen to me. They wouldn't even meet with me. They hate shape-shifters, remember?"

"I know, but nothing else has worked. They wouldn't have to know that you're a shape-shifter. If we can't get them to negotiate, we'll have to force them back. Please, Tasha, won't you give it a shot?"

"Will, it wouldn't work. And I'm not going back there." I shook my head. "Not ever."

Riker sighed. "Thousands of people cou—" he started.

"Damnit, Will!" I yelled at him. I stood up, knocking the chair back. "Don't you remember why I started running in the first place? Didn't I tell you what they did?! They locked me up, my own people! Acted like I was some kind of freak. I got away from there and I'm not going back, not if I have any choice about it!" I turned away from Will, needing a minute to get my emotions back under control. Leaning against the wall, I banged on the metal door frame with my fist.