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

Chapter Nine

The inside of the room was arranged in what looked like one giant obstacle course. Tunnels, rope walls, hanging rings, and countless other bizarre contraption populated the room. What drew my attention, though, were the people using it. Maybe "people" was a bit too generous of a term, because traveling through the course at breakneck speeds were the strangest assortment of animals I had ever seen. More than that, they never stayed the same for long, constantly shifting from one creature to another.

I turned around to face Sebastian, my mouth wide open.

"What is this?" I managed to ask. Instead of answering, he put his hands on my shoulders and turned me around, letting me watch for a few more minutes. The action continued as the people, or animals, constantly shifted from one form to another. The blur of action slowly made more sense and, as I watched, it transformed into a complicated but structured regimen.

As I continued to gape, Sebastian came up beside me and waved at one of the people, currently a tiger. He bounded toward us for a few strides before transforming and walking upright. Turning back to the scene behind him, he shouted, "Take five, people!" and then stopped a few feet in front of Sebastian and offered a two fingered salute.

"Prime Minister," he said, breathing heavily as he tried to speak normally. Behind him, the various animals slowly shifted back into Sandorians and straggled over to several water containers along the wall. "I didn't know you were scheduled to visit today."

"I wasn't," the Prime Minister said. "I'm giving a tour. Mr. Otten, meet Tasha Lawrence." I stopped gawking around the room and paid more attention as I was introduced. "Tasha, this is Rick Otten, one of our trainers here."

Otten extended his hand and I took it. "Nice to meet you," he said. His hand was calloused and his entire demeanor gave the impression of action. His hair was cut short, although that was a choice from his recent shifting, but muscles that couldn't be faked rippled under his skin. He stood at about six feet, another personal choice, although, like me, he might have just stuck to what he was born with. He looked to be in his lower thirties.

"You, too," I said. I glanced around me once more. "What's... I'm sorry, what's going on here?" I asked.

Otten opened his mouth but Sebastian was faster. "Mr. Otten, why don't you show Miss Lawrence around? I have some things I really need to get to."

"Of course," Otten said immediately. "I'd be happy to. Miss Lawrence?" He gestured with his arm that I was to lead the way, although I wasn't sure to where.

"I'll send someone for you in a while," Sebastian promised before disappearing out the doors. I watched the metal doors slide shut behind him and slowly turned back to Otten.

"This is one of our smaller training facilities," Otten said, taking a few steps forward and waiting for me to follow. When I fell into step beside him, he continued. "The larger ones are on the lower levels but there are another two this size next door." He gestured to the corner of the room where the people had spread out from around the water dispenser.

"These are some of our newer recruits so they're just doing the elementary exercises. Once they've mastered this, we'll move the teams to the larger gyms to compete against each other."

I watched as the men and women sipped their water and boisterously slapped each other on the backs. One of the men, who looked around twenty, was pulled into a headlock and immediately shifted into a falcon that flapped a few feet away before turning back into the grinning man.

"Ivans!" Otten yelled, leaving me standing where I was and striding across the floor. The young man jerked his head up and then bowed it again.

"Yes, sir?"