[Celuien]

It was an uncharacteristically quiet Panakeia who sat behind the wheel, struggling to focus on the drive to Lost Angles. This business of her new feelings towards Valde was most annoying.

They drove on. Panakeia knit her brow together. As usual for Mordor, traffic was terrible and she wasn't entirely sure of where she was going. A bad thing when gas supplies are running low and you don't really know where the next station is either. A question from Valde as to the certainty of her navigation further irritated her, and she snapped at him to look for signs leading the way to Lost Angles, then snapped again when he proceeded to call out the contents of every last sign at the edge of the road, right down to the advertisements for Raglú. She berated herself internally. Oh, why had she done that? Showing her short temper to Valde was the last thing she wanted to do.

They finally found the exit for Lost Angles. With one problem temporarily solved, she at last had enough presence of mind to reattempt conversation, carefully staying on the topic of their quest. That was safe enough.

With a sudden swerve, Panakeia pulled on to the Debauchémain Street of Lost Angles and sped along, at last coming to a halt just a few blocks from the Cultivation Center. She knew that a gathering would soon take place there. They had only missed one at the Mount Doom Resort by a few days. But a leaflet and other literature about the cult posted on the Casino grounds had given the location of the next meeting. Thus, she had excellent information for Shatner's whereabouts tucked away in her pocket. Indeed, the ceremonies were scheduled to begin within the hour. Their arrival had been right on time.

As they started out of the Cruiser, Valde offered Panakeia his arm. Her heart skipped a couple of beats. So polite. A little overly formal, yes, but absolutely charming. I wonder...Formality as a mask for a soft heart? She looked at him hopefully, but said nothing of her secret thoughts. Instead, she gave a somewhat belated answer to his earlier questions.

"Well. I'm going after one William Shatner's legendary hairpiece. I'm sure it'll be a challenge, but I think I can manage it. Actually, you've given me the idea for how to snatch it."

"Really?"

"Yes. I've never sold him makeup or anything like that before. But, I think if I offer him a new poultice or something, I can get him to remove the toupee. Just for a second. And then..." She rubbed her hands together gleefully. "Then, it's mine."

Valde eyed her doubtfully. "Are you sure you aren't a member of the cult? You seem a little too interested in this Shatner character."

Could he possibly be jealous? "Oh no. Of course not. Not in the least. But I am eager to get my prize for Anakron. One step closer to leaving Mordor, you know. Going home. Getting on with life. Aren't you?" She hoped Valde would open up to her, just a little bit.

"I suppose." Silence followed.

"Well. Well. So, you're after Spockú's eyebrows?" Valde nodded in the affirmative. "Even more difficult than the toupee. But I think I can help." Panakeia tapped her sample case. "There are waxing and plucking supplies aplenty in there, though I can't imagine how you're going to get him to agree to using them."

"You'll see." The reply was given with an air of mystery and a grand flourish befitting a Lead Tragic Actor.

That final exchange brought the pair to the door of the Cultivation Center. "Here we are," said Panakeia. "Before we go in, there are just a few tips." She pulled out her flyer and a small book detailing the rituals of the cult and turned to a page marked by a folded corner.

"Never, ever call Shatner Shatner. To his followers, his name is Kirk. Or Captain. Or Jim to those of high rank in the cult. To say anything else would be sacrilege. Watch out for the ones in the red shirts. They're a special guard and will be carefully protecting both Shatner and Spockú. And finally, don't let Spockú's hand touch your shoulder. He is rumored to have strange powers and I wouldn't want anything to happen...I mean we can't have anything happen here to interfere with our task. And once we get what we came for, we run straight back to the Cruiser and take off. Okay?"

"Agreed."

With that, Panakeia and Valde walked up to the Cultivation Center entrance and knocked on the door. A red shirted guard answered. "What is the password?"

"Password?" Panakeia was nearly floored. Would they be denied admission after coming so close? But, like a flash, the answer came to her. Of course, that must be it. It's printed in such big letters on the flyer.

Without any further hesitation, she looked the guard in the eye. "Beam me up, Scotty." He nodded, and the pair passed through the doorway, a little closer to the completion of their mission, though their greatest challenge, the actual claiming of the trophies, was still ahead.

***

Inside, the festivities were in full swing, though the main attraction, the arrival of the honored duo, Kirk and Spockú, was still awaited. A particularly excited electricity snapped through the room, for it was whispered that Kirk and Spockú would be joined by a third member of their crew, the famed Dr. McBones. The guests (all but the two intruders) had come dressed as their honored demi-gods. Several, who were clad in blue, sported pointed ears and thick, obviously synthetic eyebrows. Panakeia was about to lecture them on the proper use of eyebrow pencils when she recalled that she was the one out of place.

Suddenly an excited shout rose from the crowd. Kirk, Spockú and Dr. McBones had arrived with a large group of the ubiquitous red shirted guards. They were immediately pressed in upon from all sides by their worshippers, who thrust pictures, books and smooth, strange objects at them to be signed. Several fainted. Panakeia and Valde were left at the back of the crowd.

"How are we ever going to get in close enough?" cried Valde.

"I'm not sure. Let me try something." She pulled out the flyer and scribbled a message on the back. Handing it to a guard, she begged him deliver it to the Captain. He did. And a few minutes later, Valde and Panakeia were ushered into the presence of the famed adventurers.

"What did you write," hissed Valde.

"Never mind just now," Panakeia returned through a clenched smile. They were now but 5 feet away from their target. "Take this. You may need it." She handed Valde a small packet of Hair Snatcher Wax.

"Captain! What an honor to meet you!" Panakeia put on her brightest smile. Kirk held her note in his hand.

"Is it..true? What...you said?" He waved the message.

Panakeia smiled even more broadly. "Of course it is. Will you try?"

"I will. She may approach."

"Jim! Be careful! Can't you see she's lying?" This came from McBones.

"Well, just because you couldn't..."

"I'm a doctor, Jim, not a miracle-worker."

Spockú would have said something just then, but he seemed busy talking to Valde.

Panakeia stepped closer. Just a few more inches. Then, her hand went out and snatched the toupee. She turned and fled, breaking through a line of red shirted guards, who, despite making numerous attempts, were strangely unable to stop her. "Run!" she shouted as red lights flashed over her head and Kirk ran in pursuit of his head covering. As Panakeia ran out into the sunlight, now followed by a crowd of the cult members and the red shirted guards, she couldn't see if Valde was behind her or not. She hoped he would escape safely.