DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters
are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc and Viacom. The story contents are
the creation and property of Djinn and are copyright (c) 2023 by Djinn. This
story is Rated R.
Unrelenting (Part 4)
by Djinn
15.
You're
walking down to the CINC's office because Kathryn refused to talk to you over
comms about whatever it was she wanted. "Be at my office at noon. I'll
have lunch brought in," was all she said in the message she left in
response to the message you left.
The
office is actually a suite of offices, all of them with gorgeous views. You
stop at the reception area and one of the lieutenants working there asks you to
please sit.
Even
the guest chairs in the waiting area are super comfortable. Rich fabrics, just
padded enough without making you sink into the chair so much it's not easy to
get right back out.
"Captain
Seven?" The lieutenant is back. "She'll see you now. Let me take you
down."
You
don't even get to walk the way by yourself? Wow. Power and then some.
Kathryn
is working on her terminal while an ensign from food services lays out what
looks like a lovely lunch on her conference table. You are relieved to see it
is only set for two.
You
are also not relieved. You've managed to avoid any significant time with
Kathryn even as you managed to stay in touch once you finally got into
Starfleet.
The
ensign leaves, Kathryn is still typing her message, and that leaves you to
either sit or wander, and you choose the latter. This may be a power play and
you don't want to fall for it.
"Sit
down, Seven. I'll just be a moment."
"Enjoying
the view. Can't blame anyone for that." There, volley back.
You
hear her laugh softly and she gets up and says, "Please, join me."
"When
you put it that way..." You hurry to sit where she's indicating, and you
see she's picked your favorites from your days on the ship.
You
eat for a bit, and she asks you easy questions and you ask her even easier
ones, and you're enjoying just spending time with her after so long but you're
also on alert, because she can switch at any moment to the captain and not the
friend.
When
you've both finished and are working on individual crème brûlées, she says,
"Explain your relationship with Councilor Alara. I've seen her—pretty
woman. Your type, I imagine."
You
start to say she's not, but Kathryn holds her hand up in the old way of
"Let me finish before you mouth off at me," so you stay quiet.
"I
know she was with Liam. I know you're with Liam. Now she wants to use my
auditorium, and her latest communication mentioned you as being someone who
could vouch for her. Are you being used or are you three involved?"
You
sputter your coffee. "Her? Fuck no."
"Well,
that was quite a visceral reaction. I'm pleased because she's garbage."
She studies you. "Is Liam still with her?"
"Liam
never really was—well, he had sex with her but..." You sigh. "Do you
not know what your intel people are doing?"
"I
do now. I didn't then. Seven, why didn't you come to me when Worf pulled him
out of Medical? I'd have found him. I'd have stopped whatever stupid thing they
thought they were doing. Starfleet has no business in any of this—we have to
stay out of Federation politics. They should know that."
"They?"
"Worf
and your fucking ex, my stalker. And if you were trying to show me how little
you thought of me, taking up with her was a wonderful way to say, 'Fuck you,
Kathryn.'"
"I
didn't know about that when I met her, and I imagine for her it wasn't
something she wanted to tell your protege. I only found out about it when I got
access to her personnel record after I selected her as my first officer."
"Okay,
well, maybe that's how it went."
"Maybe?"
"How
would I really know? It's not like you spend any time with me? This is the
first time...other than when you need something." She pushes her dessert
away. "What did I do? Other than not want you?"
"It's
what I did, not what you did. Fell in love with him."
"With
Chakotay? You did?"
"Not
at first. That was just desperation, I think, on both of our parts to get free
of how we felt for you. But later, once we were off the ship. I did. He never
did with me though. It was always you for him. And that wasn't a huge surprise
to me. I could have let him go a lot sooner than I did, but I was feeling
stubborn. I should have let him go... You were threatening to resign on my
behalf and I was holding on to the man you do actually love. You're with him
now, right?" At Kathryn's nod, you say, "So that's between us, isn't
it? He's between us."
"He
doesn't have to be. I'm willing to let that go if you are. At the end of the
day, you wouldn't let me resign. You pulled your application and
disappeared."
"Was
that a relief?"
"I
won't lie. It was. I was hurt. I'm not now. And now is what we need to talk
about." She refills your coffee from the carafe on the table and then her
own. She takes her time screwing the lid back on and you think she's marshaling
her thoughts. Finally, she meets your eyes and says, "There is no way in
hell I'm letting that woman use the Starfleet Auditorium to spread her hate and
fear."
You
swallow hard. Not because you're disappointed. Because you're not. Because
she's right, and Picard and Kirk aren't.
"And
I can guess who put her up to it. I doubt this was her first choice of
venue."
You
drink a long sip of coffee so you won't have to answer.
"Seven,
I get that you think you owe Picard something. But don't you think whatever he
might have done for you is well past paid?"
"Yes."
She
looks shocked at your answer. "Hmmm. I know all about the 'android' Kirk
too. That section reports to me like any other."
"Then
you know that section is the whole reason the Borg Queen could take over
Starfleet. Their stupid experiments with the changelings."
"Why
do you think they appointed me as CINC? Someone who had no ties to the Dominion
War? I'm well aware. At least you weren't in any danger—from assimilation. From
your junior officers eliminating you, yes."
You
haven't told another soul this, why Vadic thought it so fitting you witness
whatever she was going to do with Jack. Why you were fighting off the Queen—how
you would never have been able to if Agnes hadn't claimed you first. So you
whisper, "I heard her. Telling me I'd soon be mother to all of them. When
she took my body to replace the one you destroyed. Older you."
"Oh,
Seven. That isn't in the reports."
"Because
she couldn't do it."
"Because
of the Jurati?"
You're
not surprised she knows of that. But you doubt Agnes told her. Knowing Picard,
he shoved it in his report not thinking about what it would do to you if it
were known. "Are you going to kick me out because I'm Borg again?"
Panic fills you at the thought that you might have nowhere to go, to call home,
to have to wander the way you did before.
Although
Liam will come with you. And that settles you right back down. Whatever
happens, you know he wants to be with you.
"You're
Jurati, if that, not Borg. And the Jurati are members of the Federation.
So...what's the problem?"
You
wait to see if she's going to tell you what the problem is but she just sits
quietly and you finally mumble, "No problem."
"Which
leads us back to this asinine debate. They can have it. They just can have it
somewhere else. Starfleet cannot be seen to be even entertaining the idea that
humans-only is a valid option."
"Don't
you have to allow both sides to speak?"
"No.
We're not the media. And even they don't need to do that when one side is sane
and the other is batshit crazy. And evil. They're evil. Samantha Alara is
evil."
"She
changed sides."
"Out
of expediency and because her pride was wounded. Do you think she wouldn't
change sides right back if she found a way to control that group—whoever the
hell they are?"
"I
don't know." You didn't ask Alara that. You should have.
"Maybe."
"Over
the years, I like to think that our work together was more cooperative than
that of superior to subordinate. But I want to be clear here. This is an order.
You and anyone on your ship is to steer clear of them. That means you and Liam
and Raffi—"
"She's
involved with Worf. I can't make her stay away."
Kathryn
rolls her eyes. "Fine, but she doesn't pull you into this."
"If
she needs help..."
"Give
me a different answer than that, Captain."
You
can hear the threat in her voice.
"If
she needs me..."
She
hits her combadge and says, "Janeway to Torres."
"Torres
here, Admiral."
"How
many requests do you have for Shaw?"
"No,"
you mouth.
"Five.
All great opportunities."
"Any
of them near the Enterprise?"
"Only
if it flies by on a mission. Did you decide to pull him off the ship?" She
sounds excited at the thought.
You
feel true panic.
Kathryn
looks at you and mouths, "Your call, Seven."
"Hands
off. Not involved. Me or Liam." You can't speak for Raffi, but you won't
help her. And you hope Kathryn doesn't know about Miller. And if Picard pulls
Jack in, well...
But
you and Liam are out and you're okay with that.
You
just hope he'll be too.
"Still
mulling it over. But don't wait on me if you have others to fill those
slots."
"Roger
that. Lunch tomorrow?"
"Can't.
Day after?"
"Perfect.
Just sent you the appointment since I know you'll forget."
You
feel it then: the jealousy. This should have been you, casually making lunch
plans with a fellow admiral. This should have been the life you led.
Icheb
would still be alive. Or if not, you wouldn't have had to kill him. He wouldn't
have died like that.
"You
know me too well. Janeway out." She looks at you and seems surprised by
what she sees. Standing and pushing her chair away, she swivels your chair so
you're facing her, pulls you up, and hugs you. "I'm sorry, Seven. For
this. For everything."
You
realize you're crying.
"It's
okay. I'm not going to take him away if you just steer clear of Picard and Kirk
and Alara and your ex and my head of intelligence."
"You
and the others were my family. Why would Starfleet be so stupid?"
"I
don't know. They let Musiker back in."
"And
ex-Maquis."
"I
know." She holds you tightly, the way she used to do before things became
awkward for you. "I'm so sorry. About everything that happened. But I'll
do whatever it is to keep you safe and for now, that's keeping you away from
this cockamamie plan."
You
laugh, because it is stupid.
"And
I know Agnes is involved too. Not sure how and I know you won't tell me. Do not
let her bully you into this. Liam is on the line."
"I
owe her my life."
"You
don't owe her his."
"I
do actually. The nanoprobes don't work unless they're fresh."
"Seven,
stop arguing with me."
"I'm
not. I'm just providing the counterpoint to your statement."
"Well
stop that too."
"He
and I could both resign." You don't love that option but it is one that's
available to you.
"And
do what? Hang out on Risa—you'd be bored in a month. You belong on that ship.
You know it, Liam knows it, and I know it."
You
look down.
"Consider
this, Seven. Those positions B'Elanna talked about are plum ones. But I could
also take him away and give him a shitty one."
"He'd
retire."
"And
still not be with you. You tell your friend Picard you're out." She lets
you go and goes back to her desk.
You
stand, feeling both relieved but also diminished. What right does she have to
run your life this way?
Other
than as CINC, over Starfleet resources? She actually has a ton of right in that
sense. But this feels personal. And it's been so long...
"Seven,
stop overthinking this. You can have Liam on your ship or you can help Alara.
The choice is simple." She meets your eyes and hers are gentle when she
says, "Dismissed, Captain."
##
Jack
walks out of class and sees Liam leaning against the wall.
"Unexpected," he says by way of greeting.
"I
need a partner in crime. You game?"
"I
thought I was out of this?"
"Yeah,
well, I can't use Seven for this one. Are you in or do I need to find someone
else?" He's already walking away.
"No,
I'm in." He hurries to catch up. "What kind of crime are we
doing?"
"Extorting
the Commander in Chief of Starfleet."
"Uhhhhh."
"Chicken
out if you want, Jack. She did something shitty to Seven and I'm going to clear
that the fuck up. I need a witness."
"Why
me?"
"Because,
for reasons known only to my probably seriously addled mind, I trust you. And
so does Seven."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"Okay."
Being trusted is such a rare thing that he actually craves it. Being trusted by
these two—who should rightfully hate his guts? Even more precious.
Liam
seems to know a lot of shortcuts through Command, but Jack knows to not
comment. They are in some back area where it's clear no one but maintenance
workers go, and then they are in a lift, riding up to the top floor.
Where
the big dogs live.
The
lift lets them out and he can tell they're in the maintenance area again but
then a door lets them out into what looks like a huge group of offices.
"Sacred
ground of the holy brassiest of the brass, kiddo." Liam has a smug look on
his face.
"Holy
shit. We just bypassed all the gatekeepers, didn't we?"
"Do
not piss off someone who started as a grease monkey. We know all the hidden
passageways."
"I'll
remember that."
"I
know I don't have to school you on the first rule of staying somewhere you want
to be but really don't belong?"
"Act
like you do belong." He pulls out his padd and says, "Ready for
orders, sir."
Liam
grins and then the expression is gone, and he looks harried, the way Jack
expects a lot of the brass look. As they walk down the entirety of the corridor
toward Janeway's office, he is keying in bits of what Liam is barking out at
him.
A
lieutenant at reception looks at them as they pass when Liam says, "The
admiral needed it yesterday, Ensign. Why isn't it done?"
She
shoots Jack a sympathetic look then turns around.
The
rest of the way is a cakewalk. Janeway's office is open, and she looks up as
Liam walks in. He waits until Jack follows and then closes the door. "Hi,
Admiral."
"Liam
Shaw." She turns to Jack. "And my, my, my."
"I
get that a lot." Jack decides to be cocky and a little flirty, and she
laughs in a way that tells him she appreciates it.
She
hits an intercom and says, "Tom, can you come in here please?"
"I
have my witness, you want yours?"
"Just
exactly, Captain."
A
captain who must be Tom opens the door and says, "Why is this
closed?" Then he sees them. "Oh. Hi." He ignores Liam and says,
"I'm Tom Paris. You're Jack. Wow, I didn't think any son of an admiral
could cause more trouble than I did in my time, but you managed. Thank you for
taking the trophy off my desk." His grin is easy, his tone more teasing
than mean.
"You're
welcome?"
"You
two can stand over there. Liam and I need an unencumbered field of play for
this. I assume we're talking mutually assured destruction?"
Jack
moves back with Tom, who's fiddling with his padd, as Liam lays his own padd on
her desk and says, "Doesn't have to be."
"What's
this?"
"Read
it."
She
does and her face doesn't change. "So. You threaten to retire. Big
whoop."
"I
retire, you can't blackmail Seven into behaving. Using her fucking loneliness
against her. Goddamn low blow."
"I'm
protecting her. I'll protect you too. You stay involved with this group, and
I'll remove her from command. I'm an equal opportunity player."
Jack
forgets how to breathe.
Liam
picks up the padd, changes pages and slams it down in front of her. "Fun
fact: old engineers were the most likely force to fuck with the Borg Queen's
plan. They were killed first. You have a serious lack of them. I'm one. You
really want to lose me?" He leans in. "Or the first daughter of the
Jurati? The Jurati who really don't need the Federation and have some amazing
tech I'm just itching to go work on. Imagine Seven and Agnes teamed up. They'd
make these two boys look like amateurs when it comes to causing trouble."
Jack
is trying to memorize every single thing Liam is doing, how he's phrasing
things, the good humor hiding a deep, dark threat.
"Picard
already got you killed once, Liam. Do you want that to happen again? Do you
want Seven dead?"
"No,
but we're part of this. We're finishing this with our partners in crime."
"Does
Seven know you're here?"
"No.
She's terrified you'll move me just because you can. Again, low fucking blow,
Kathy."
"I
hate that name."
"Somehow
I knew that."
Tom
leans into Jack and murmurs, "Your money on him?"
Jack
nods.
"Interesting.
Word to the wise: don't bet if you don't know the landscape."
The
landscape at the moment is the two of them having a huge stare-down. Jesus, are
they human? Someone blink already.
Liam
finally does. But Jack wonders if that's a strategic play. His eyes aren't
watering or anything.
She
leans back in her chair. "Fine, but you—and Picard both, I'll leave it to
you to tell him—are to make it clear you do not in any way speak for Starfleet.
And you're not using my auditorium."
"Yeah,
I thought that was a stupid idea anyway."
"Kirk's
or Picard's?"
"Does
it matter?"
"Not
really." She looks over at Jack and Tom. "Tom, get him whatever information
is releasable to help them in this."
"Okey
dokey."
"It
would be easier if you just gave us the names of who's behind this
movement."
"That's
the thing, Liam. We don't know. Alara is a figurehead. Nothing more. Do you
really think a debate will bring them out of the shadows?"
"No,
but it'll maybe change the hearts and minds of the people they need to follow
them."
"Hearts
and minds are changed over time, not all at once. Not from a stupid debate
between a synthetic legend and a clone."
Jack
frowns. Wait, Kirk's a clone now? Not an android? Will Liam even explain this
once they leave?
"And
me. They want me on the stage too. God knows why."
"You're
an idiot, that's why. But it's your life. Let's hope Seven's nanoprobes are up
to pulling you back to this mortal coil twice. It's never been tried—bringing
back the same person twice." She glances at her screen. "I've got a
visitor with an actual appointment. So Tom will see you out."
"Admiral?"
Liam's voice has changed, grown softer.
She
looks up at him.
"Invite
us over. Or if not us, her. Don't let this be how you and Seven leave it.
She'll never say it, but she needs you back in her life."
"Does
she?" Her voice is really soft and Jack sees the woman behind the admiral.
"She
does. Please? I know there's all kinds of bullshit between you and Chakotay and
her, but if I can work things out with Jack's dad, you can work things out with
Seven."
"I'll
check with Chakotay and find a night we're free to have you both over.
Happy?"
"Thank
you, Kathryn."
"Finally,
a name I actually go by." She hands his padd back. "I did not,
however, say you could use it."
"I
know." His grin is super annoying as he takes his padd back, but Jack
thinks also pretty irresistible.
She
just rolls her eyes. Much like Seven does—maybe she learned it from Janeway?
Liam
stashes his padd and follows Tom out.
Once
they're in the corridor, Jack says softly, "You're the only person who
would refer to the great Jean-Luc Picard as 'Jack's dad.'"
"Did
it on purpose."
"I
know. And it wasn't for me, more that you really don't love my father. But
still, it felt super good."
Tom
hands them over a surprisingly meager file and Liam sighs. "Come on."
"Sorry.
This is what I've got that I can give you."
As
Liam leads Jack out the front way—probably so he doesn't give away his secret
tunnels—and bitches about how useless the information Tom gave them is, Jack
softly asks, "Can I make a point that's going to piss you off?"
"You?
Piss me off?" He laughs. "Go ahead."
"It
seemed like you were angry at her for blackmailing Seven. Aren't you sort of
doing that to her? And you came here without Seven, fighting her battles?"
He
stops and Jack braces for a cutting reply, but he seems to be considering his
response. "You're not wrong. But Seven spent her formative years
post-Collective having this woman make decisions for her. Then she was on her
own with no one to look out for her. Now Kathryn thinks she can just jump back
in like she never let her swing in the wind for all that time? It's bullshit.
And Seven won't strike back—not at her."
"The
same way I never did at my mother even though a lot of the time I hated our
life."
"Exactly.
I'm fighting for her because I love her but also because she deserves to have
someone do that. I'll tell her what I did. If she gets mad at me, then I'll
deal with that too."
"She's
not going to get mad at you, Liam. We grew up the same. Sometimes parents are
the monsters—and they aren't under the bed. They're right in front of you,
making your life hell and it's out of love. Having a champion to tell them to
take a breath, back the fuck off? What I wouldn't have given for that."
Liam
puts his hand on his shoulder and squeezes. "You have it now. Thanks for
being my second on this."
"Oh.
were you going to duel?" He laughs. "I'm imagining she'd win."
"For
sure. I'm good with knives but not a fucking foil."
"I'm
good with one. It was an elective offered in one of the many schools I
attended."
"I'll
keep that in mind if dueling comes up." He walks him back to class and
says, "It wouldn't hurt for you to get to know Tom Paris. Nothing that man
doesn't know. And he seemed to see a kindred spirit in you."
"You
mean to get information out of him?"
"No,
Jack. I mean as a friend." He rolls his eyes and motions for the
instructor, Commander Smith, to come out because class has already resumed.
"I
needed to borrow him, Commander. You weren't in the room when I came or I'd
have cleared it with you."
"No
problem, Captain."
Liam
nods in the terse way that a captain does when he borrowed someone for a very
important thing, and then strides off.
"Get
back in there, Crusher. I know you can't wait to learn about regulations on
gifts and fraternization."
"Top
ten things I want to learn."
"Oh,
shut it." But Smith is smiling. He actually seems to like Jack, unlike so
many of the others who hold him personally responsible for the Borg invasion.
##
I
grab lunch with a friend I haven't seen for years, finally both of us on Earth
at the same time. It's sunny out and we eat in the courtyard of the cafeteria
and catch up and he tells me he's happy and I tell him I am too, and for both
of us, that's a huge fucking change.
I'm
feeling super chipper as I beam back to the ship, as I walk down the corridor
to Engineering. I haven't even sat down before my combadge sounds: "Seven
to Shaw."
"Shaw
here."
"My
ready room. Now."
I
smile. Another fucking bingo square?
But
then I walk into the room and she's at the table and she says, "Close the
door and sit down."
I
do what she says. I can't read her. Is this a game or real?
She
meets my eyes; hers are hard. No fucking game, then. Then she brings up a video
and plays it so it's facing me.
"You
two can stand over there. Liam and I need an unencumbered field of play for
this. I assume we're talking mutually assured destruction?"
I
realize Tom took the video. Why she had them move back. Un-fucking-believable.
She
turns the video off. "Your mouth is open. It's not a good look. You may
know way more than I ever will about Starfleet, but you know shit about Kathryn
Janeway. And no one in their right mind ever calls her 'Kathy.'"
I
look at her. Her eyes are even harder. I rush to fill the silence but she holds
her hand up.
"You'll
get your chance to speak, Captain Shaw. But right now I'm going to talk and
you're going to listen."
"One
question before we start. Where does that video end?"
"At
you ordering her to ask us over for dinner. We have a date on that by the way.
Oddly, it's the same day as the debate. When Kathryn told Alara the answer was
an unequivocal no on the Starfleet auditorium, it turned out she had backups
reserved for this Saturday, just in case. I guess that's what makes her a
councilor and us just military wonks: all that sexy pre-planning."
I
want to answer that Seven's way better at that kind of thing than Sam is, but
she holds up her hand again and this time there's anger in her eyes. "You
had no right to pull Jack into this with you. He's not yours to play
with."
"He
enjoyed it."
"Of
course he did. Because this is what his mother made him into. A troublemaker
out of desperation. And you're just fanning the flames." She stops talking
for a moment, but I don't jump in. "Just like I was made a fucking Borg by
my parents before I was ever assimilated. Do what you're told and don't talk
back while we do this wildly stupid thing. Well, guess what? Other than the
idea of you being transferred off, I liked that Kathryn didn't want us there—loved
the idea of staying as far away as we fucking can from Alara's stupid
debate."
She
leans back but I honestly can't tell if she's done so I stay quiet. This is a
side of her I've never seen. It's the captain I knew she could be. But it
stings that it's directed at me.
"I'm
not going, Liam. For three reasons. The first is that Starfleet has no business
getting involved. Why Worf thought this was a good idea is beyond me and I
don't envy him the talking to he's going to get from Kathryn."
"The
second?" I ask, unwilling to cede control to her any longer.
"I'm
fucking Borg. I've seen how my presence can fan flames and I'm not going to be
used to do that at Alara's event."
"And
the—"
Again
the hand goes up. Again I shut up. "But the most important reason is that
if this is a set-up or if the security isn't air tight, I can't bring you back
to life if I'm dead too. But—and this is a huge but—I don't know if I can bring
you back to life this soon after doing it the first time. You still have
nanoprobes in your system. Is helping Alara really worth risking your
life?"
I
don't know if she wants me to answer. I just stare at her.
"What
exactly are you going to say that's going to change hearts and minds? That
you're finally okay with two humans who used to be Borg? That you've deigned to
address one of them by the Borg name she preferred?"
I
can feel the rage pulsing off her. The same rage as the moment in the line-up
for Vadic. But then it eases, and I know it's because that's not who we are
anymore, and I relax."I haven't really thought through what I was going to
say."
"You're
just going to wing it? Why?"
When
I don't answer, she laughs in the most derisive manner possible. "You had
so much to say about legends and grandstanding. And now you're suddenly one of
them? You need to be in front of a literal grandstand...for her?"
"It's
not for her."
"Then
for who? It's sure as fuck not for me." She looks away. "I tried
recalling Miller. He fucking refused to abort. He's working for Agnes while
he's on leave—direct quote."
I
close my eyes. "He just wants to make a difference. After what happened—what
he did."
"I
know why he's doing it, Liam. It's why security isn't bringing him back to me
in restraints for a nice long stay in the brig for insubordination."
I
can't help it. I smile.
"God
damn you, don't start on me. I know it's poetic justice. I feel the irony in my
fucking bones, okay?" She gets up and paces. "I would really like to
go to dinner with you at Kathryn and Chakotay's place. I've missed my family
for so long. I'd like a way back in. But if you want to go to the
debate..."
"I
don't have to speak. But...I should help Geordi with the force field. And Raffi
with the video system safeguards."
"So
long as you're back in time here. If I go without you, it won't be good for
us."
I
can tell she's serious. "You'd break up with me over this?"
"You
told her we were going to move to Agnes's ship. Wow, how fun. Just what I want
to do. Live on a fucking Borg ship."
"With
me though." I close my eyes so I can't see her roll her eyes. "Yeah,
okay, not the best idea. But it worked."
"It
didn't work. She sent me the video because it really was mutually assured
destruction. You never, ever want to play chicken with Kathryn Janeway."
"Yeah.
I'm starting to get that." I'm also pissed as hell—but at Janeway, not at
Seven. "I'm sorry, Captain. It was presumptuous."
"I'm
saving the video because I do like how stupidly brave you were being. And your
words were great. Just don't ever do that without talking to me first."
She holds up her hand before I can say it. "Yes, I know. What I did with
Picard without talking to you first is coming back to haunt me. I get that,
believe me." Her eyes soften. And she stands up and walks around the table
and leans down to kiss me.
"You're
not going to do that at the end of every disciplinary meeting, are you?"
She
laughs. "If I do, it's not your business, Captain Shaw."
"Yeah,
it is. It's Liam's business, anyway." I smile up at her. "And uh at
the risk of ruining what is a very nice moment, I have to disagree about Jack.
He's as much mine as he is yours."
Her
eyebrow goes up precipitously. "Oh my God, are you serious?"
"Yep.
I get that you're his soul sister with the weird-ass childhoods and the Borg
thing but I am the big brother he never had. And I take that seriously."
"And
what a fantastic big bro you are. You took him to poke a tiger in an unlatched
cage."
"Yes,
yes, I apparently did. But he enjoyed it. And Tom seemed to like him. I think
they might find common ground."
"Jack
doesn't need Tom in his life. Jack is Tom. Tom squared is like matter and
antimatter dancing a tango."
I
laugh because that's a great image. "So, am I back in trouble?"
"Are
you still speaking at the debate?"
"No."
"Prove
it."
I
pull out my padd and comm Sam.
She
answers immediately. "Liam, I hope this isn't a business call?"
"'Fraid
it is. I'll be able to help with set-up but your traveling tour of old,
previously dead starship captains will have to be a duet not a trio."
"Not
happy to hear that."
I
let that hang and meet Seven's eyes.
"But
I get it. We'll be setting up starting at noon."
"See
you then. Shaw out." I put the padd back in my pocket.
"You
are no longer in trouble." She sighs. "I didn't envision my first
serious discussion with a crew member on their conduct was going to be with
you."
"Yeah,
me either, strangely enough. For what it's worth, you did great."
"Yeah?
I was really pissed in the middle there."
"Oh,
believe me. That came through." I smile at her, the most tender smile I
can give her. "I love you. I'm not thrilled to be chewed out, but I am
thrilled to have a captain who's not afraid to do it."
16.
We
are sitting in silence with the Collective, enjoying the feel of the other
minds joining with ours in the Ritual of Unity. It is not something we
invented. Our children enjoyed the practice and chose to give it a name so that
all who join will know it is a stage that awaits them as they acclimate and
contribute.
As
always, we can focus on a multitude of tasks, even if at the moment we are only
doing this. But the sound of the comm chime we assigned Jim brings us out of
the unity circle instantly.
We
feel the Collective's knowledge that we have left the sharing. They are
untroubled: they know we have many duties, some of which respect no rituals or
preferences.
It
is not Jim who is on the terminal but Jarred. "What is happening?" we
ask, and there is a note of panic in our voice that would not have been there
before we brought Jim into our life.
We
do not regret this caring, exactly. But it is inconvenient and will lead to
nothing. Perhaps it will be a relief when this mission is over and our
partnership is ended.
"Oh,
no, Jim's fine. But he wants to talk to you too once I'm done. Said it would be
easier to just use the same call." He grins and says so softly only you—or
Data if he is in the room with them—can hear him. "I think he was looking
for an excuse to call you."
We
do not understand this. Jim needs no excuse to call us. "What is wrong,
Jarred? Before you said that, you looked concerned."
"Oh,
yeah, well, see I sort of, um..." He takes a deep breath. "Captain
Seven tried to call me back to duty and I basically said no, that I was working
for you while I was on leave. But she could cancel my leave and then I'd just
be AWOL. So, uh, I might need a home when this is all over."
"Why
would she recall you?"
"She
and Shaw are done working on this. That's all I know."
Instantly
we reach out for her, the way we used to when we were new as one being, when we
were without children other than Seven, when we were lonely for our first. We
are sure she was never aware how often we reached out, across time and
distance, finding her lonely too.
Which
was a surprise after we saved her on Raffi's behalf—but also on her own. We
have both always loved Seven in our way.
As
our Collective grew, we reached out for her less and less. We let the link
between us grow over like an old path, covered with vegetation, no sign of it
even existing until raw need called it back—the other Queen's attempted
takeover of Seven and then Liam's death and rebirth.
We
were through her during all of it. We were so proud of her.
And
now we feel her—and we smile. Because she is not just our first child, she is
becoming her own Queen. We feel her power, her confidence growing, and we know
that someday we may welcome her into our collective Queen to Queen, maybe even
watch her take some of our children off to start a new hive—with Liam by her
side if the two of them realize that much longer lives await them if they join
with us.
She
did not assimilate him with her nanoprobes—she did it with her love. It would
take only a prick of the tube to bind him to her—and all of us—forever. But
that is not an issue for now.
We
have processed this in the short time Jarred has waited and we smile and say,
"Of course you have a home. But she will forgive you. She understands
misplaced loyalty." We grin at the idea of her own loyalty to Picard
coming around to bite her. It is how we learn as Queens. By pain and by success
and sometimes the two are linked.
"Okay,
thank you and I hope so." He looks off screen and then as he's pushed out
of frame, says, "There's someone else who wants to talk to you."
And
she is there. Alara. We do not show a single shred of emotion. Even if what we
feel is annoyance.
We
will not address her first so she is forced to say, "Uh, your
majesty?"
"Yes,
Councilor?"
"I
thought we should meet."
"And
now we have."
"I
mean in person."
"Why
would we do that?" We do not understand this woman. She has Jim—what does
she want with us? Or is it our collective she wants?
"You're
a power in the Federation. And I don't think you realize quite how powerful. I
think, with the right guidance, you could be a force for whatever you
wanted."
There
was a time, early in the Borg history, when multiple Queens existed, when we
were rivals, when we made alliances and waged war on others. This woman would
not have even deserved a warning before we destroyed her—so small is she.
"We are satisfied with the role we play now."
"But,
perhaps, I'm not satisfied with the role I play. I think an alliance between us
could benefit us both."
"We
think it would benefit you. We do not see what you bring to us that we do not
already have. Unless you would like to send us the names of the leaders of the
movement you so recently turned on? That would be of use."
She
looks down. "I don't know who they are. I have one person I deal
with."
Small,
pretty pawn. We almost feel sorry for her. Except that in the analogy we have
chosen, a pawn may, under the right circumstances, become a queen. And we see
she wants that.
She
has taken our king, she will not take us. "We will consider it," we
say even though we will not. Rejection causes anger and anger causes reactions
and we need her under control. Let her think we will take her request
seriously.
"Sam,
come on. You're going to be late." Jim's voice, annoyed, pushing her out
of frame the way she did Jarred. Looking at her sternly and saying,
"Go."
"You
could come."
"Big
no on that." Jim sounds frustrated. We take comfort in that. Perhaps their
relationship is not without turbulence.
He
watches for a moment, then turns back to us. "I'm sorry. She didn't tell
me she was going to do that."
"It
is fine. Do you prosper?"
"No.
Ag, I can't get that kid out of my mind."
We
see he is serious. That it is hurting him—the idea that another Kirk is out
where he cannot find him. We understand this. It is, in its way, a collective
also. We might feel the same way in his position. "We will do some
discreet digging. Perhaps we can find the location of the child."
"Yeah?
You'd do that for me?"
We
look down. We do not want him to see there is very little we would not do for
him. "Of course. It is the right thing to do."
We
expect him to sign off but instead he tells Jarred to go for a walk, waits and
then says, "Okay the room is finally just mine." He seems to relax in
front of our eyes, and we realize he looks tired. "Did you know Liam and
Seven were out? He's helping us set up tomorrow but that's it."
"Not
before Jarred mentioned it."
"How
do you feel about that? I thought they were with us?"
"Perhaps
the presence of the Councilor was too much for Seven."
"I
don't mean they were with all of us. I mean with you and me. I felt like we
gelled—mutual understanding and all that. A team." He lets out a puff of
air, frustration rampant in the exhale. "How do you feel about
that? Don't tell me how Seven might be feeling."
"We
are relieved she is out of it. Liam by extension. We have taken steps to
protect you and Jarred. But we have not for her, and she cannot resurrect Liam
a second time. Not with our nanoprobes so fresh in his system."
"I
trusted them, Ag. I don't trust..."
"You
don't trust Alara?"
"She's
trying. But her motives... Politicians are aggravating. They have platforms not
values. And platforms can be deconstructed and reconstructed at will depending
on the wind."
"And
you have always been driven by the need to help. It is one reason we value you
so highly."
"Value.
You could just say you like me."
"We
could. But is it wise? You are there. We are not." We resist sighing—it is
what Agnes would have done, but not the Queen and in this, Agnes is happy to
defer.
"I
just want this to be over. Stupid plan." He seems to see us bristle.
"Not yours. Hers. The debate. Infiltrating if she'd actually been
connected would have been a great plan."
We
smile because yes, it would have been. A pity she was nothing more than a pawn,
barely moved on the board—nowhere near being promoted to Queen.
But
still, she has our king. We strive not to let the feeling that prompts show on
our face. "Is there anything you need before tomorrow?"
"No,
we're good." He touches the screen and we are unsure why. "I miss
your ship."
"You
miss any ship. You enjoy the stars when you are among them, not below."
He
laughs. "That I do. Thank you, Agnes. Not matter what happens tomorrow,
it's been fun being alive again. Kirk out."
We
sit for far too long staring at the now dark screen. Then we rise and consider
what we can do for Jim on finding the infant.
##
They
walk out of the CINC's office. Chastened? No. Pissed? Quite a lot. Or Worf is.
Both Picard and Sisko gave him wide latitude to take care of Klingon political
matters while simultaneously serving in Starfleet. How is this any different?
Raffi
is just relieved Janeway didn't bring up the whole stalking thing.
They
are also both playing back how Janeway phrased her final statement. "If I
see either of you at the debate, there will be consequences. But I'm sure you
have plenty of other things to do with a Saturday night."
"She
said nothing about the afternoon set-up," Raffi murmurs as they ride the
elevator down to the floor Worf's office is on.
"No,
she did not. I believe she is one who would cover all the bases. She does not
wish to see us at the debate, so we will not be at that. But we will do
whatever we can to help beforehand."
"Did
you know Liam and Seven were out?" She didn't and that hurts. She and
Seven are talking so little.
"Liam
does not clear his actions with me, Raffaela. I have lost control of this
situation."
"Did
we ever have control of it? Maybe she's right? Maybe this wasn't our conspiracy
to fix?"
They
look at each other, both assessing how many times they have been right in the
past when few or no one believed them.
"Nyah,"
Raffi says and Worf echoes the sentiment with a nod.
Myriamna
has lunch laid out for them. "Figured you'd either be celebrating or
possibly packing your things. This could have served for either." She
gives them both the fondest grin and they feel better because she loves them,
no matter how small Janeway made them feel.
One
fairly tiny woman. With a backbone of steel and words that cut like knives.
Worf respects that even if he did not like being taken to task in front of his
woman. Raffi respects it too, but mostly she just never wants to be called into
that room again.
They
notice there are place settings for three. Myriamna laughs at them.
"Either way, hurray or goodbye, do you think I wouldn't be part of
it?" She puts her hands on both their shoulders, like they are her kids,
and then sits down with them to eat.
##
Data
watches Admiral Picard interact with Alara on the surveillance cameras. It has
not gone unnoticed how much she looks like Ro Laren. The gentleness with which
the admiral treats her, the easy way they have of talking—Data understands it
but is still concerned by it.
"You
trust her?" Miller asks.
"I
do not."
"Yeah,
me neither. But he does. Why?"
"It's
possible he sees something in her that isn't really there. Another person—a
lost person." Data turns to look at Miller. "Or perhaps he really is
reaching part of her the rest of us—other than Kirk—are not. She does seem
softer with him—or am I imagining?"
"You're
not. She's soft with those two and that's about it. She doesn't like me much.
It was nice to get out of the apartment, honestly, and come with you to
this."
"One
more day and we will be done."
"Yeah,
but what will we have done? A debate is hardly the end. It's just..." He
shakes his head. "Isn't this all a little pointless, Data?"
"The
first wave that hits a rocky shore might think that. But over time the water
cuts through stone."
"Wow,
you've been hanging around Kirk too much. Those were some pretty words."
He laughs and Data nods that this may be the case. "But you're also right.
Some things take time. It's just...how do you know when you're done? It seems
like no matter how much we expand, how much we include—there's always someone
else to hate."
"That
does seem to be the case. Perhaps it is not feeling hate that is the problem.
Perhaps it is letting hate rule you? Keeping you away from the things you might
not hate if you understood them better."
"I
think about what the Borg did to me and I hate. I hate Jack Crusher for his
part in it—don't tell his dad."
"I
will not. You are not going to harm Jack Crusher, are you?"
"No.
But I hate him."
"You
realize he was no more willing in this than you were. He was a victim
too."
"I
know. Logically I know. But still I feel hate." He points out someone on
the screen.
Data
realizes it is not someone who was in the room before. But the person checks
out as a late addition. "Perhaps the trick is not to escape the hate you
feel but find a way to work with him despite that. You seem very fond of Agnes,
yet she is Borg."
"I
know. Weird, right?"
"Emotions
often are."
"Yeah,
you can say that again. Like I'm not sure what I'm going to face when I finally
go back to the Enterprise. Captain Seven has been so nice even though I
killed Captain Shaw but now that I've basically defied her...?"
"I
confess I find her perplexing. And not friendly."
"No,
she is. She's just..."
"Borg?"
Miller
laughs. "Yeah, more weirdness. But she's tough, you know? But then she can
give you this smile that just lights up the room. And I don't mean in a sexy
way 'cause women aren't my thing. Just...she shines so brightly when she's
happy with you."
"I
will have to take your word for it. She has never, I'm afraid, been happy with
me."
Miller
pats him on the back. "You can't charm everyone, buddy."
##
You
come into your room and find a huge vase of peonies.
Liam
is lying on the bed. "I palmed myself in. First time since I died. Figured
we've been making up for long enough. Did I presume again?"
"You
did not." You kick off your boots and climb onto the bed to cuddle with
him. "Pretty flowers. Did I miss the card?"
"There
isn't one. I couldn't possibly put everything I feel for you on one little
card."
"That's
a really good answer." You kiss him, losing yourself in him.
"Do
you like the color?"
She
laughs. "They're white. That's technically the absence of color." She
nuzzles him. "But yes. I love white flowers."
"I
thought you might. Pink was just to ordinary for you, my lady." He smiles
as you kiss where his beard ends, little pecks that tickle him. "What kind
of flower would you get me?"
"You
like getting them?"
"I
do."
You
think about all the things you know of him, how he thinks, how he moves, what
interests him on a mission, what doesn't. "You're very drawn to good
smells."
"I
am." His look is approving.
"Lilacs.
Or maybe lily of the valley. Honeysuckle. Plumeria. Tuberose. Not gardenia
though—too strong. And none of those fancy lilies that smell like dead meat
once they've been in your room a few hours."
He
laughs. "Did someone give you those?"
"Chakotay
loved them. I detested them." You frown. "I never told him though.
Just reinforced him giving them to me and then tossed them as soon as I
could."
"Well,
just so we're clear, if I ever give you something you don't like, tell
me."
"What
if it's a family heirloom? Or stupid but you love it?"
"Fucking
hell, Seven. You are stripping the romance right out of this." But he's
grinning so you're not worried. "Tell me. Tell me gently. But tell
me."
"Okay.
Works both ways."
He
nods and pulls you into him. "I'm tired. I was in meetings all day.
Sitting like that, forced attention. Sucks."
"Agreed.
We are people of action." You show just how much action by shifting to get
comfortable and closing your eyes.
"Damn
straight, we are," he says as he yawns. "Nap before dinner?"
"Yes,
please."
He
kisses your forehead and turns so he can wrap his arms around you. You're half
asleep as he murmurs, "I love you, Seven."
"I
love you, too, Liam."
17.
I
go through five security guards on my way to the backstage. Private security,
though, not Starfleet, and I wonder if Sam's contracted for them privately or
if the group sent them. In which case we're fucked.
No,
not we. I'm out of this. I know Seven's relieved and I should be too. But I'm still
pissed off at Janeway. Should make for a great dinner experience tonight.
I
know Seven really wants this. And I fucking asked for Janeway to give it to
her. So why am I being such a little bitch over this?
And
then I see Jim and Geordi laughing over something they're doing and yeah,
that's why. I don't want to be a legend, but I do want to work with my idols.
Seven
may not have any idols. I wonder what that's like?
And
who am I kidding? Her idol is the woman who recorded our conversation to
protect her. I wonder if Jim would have done that? I used to think Janeway was
a female Kirk but now I'm not sure.
"Liam,"
Geordi says when he looks up. "Good to see you again."
I
break out into my stupidest goofy grin but I can't help it.
"Come
look at this. We're missing something."
I
doubt that's true but then I get to where they're trying to anchor the
forcefield shield thingie, and yeah, this is fucked up. "Jesus, who wired
this? Salvador Dali?"
Jim
cracks up and I grin again because I just did that: made a man known for his
wit laugh.
Go
me.
"We'll
miss you tonight. But I completely understand why you've been pulled." Jim
smiles gently, in a way that let's me know he's not holding anything against
me.
"Just
glad you're here for this part." Geordi motions for me to pull some wire
bundles apart and there it is. The thing we need. "Got you. Now how to
modify that plug."
"I
brought my 'the homeowners did the remodel themselves' tool set."
Geordi
grins at me. "God love you, Liam." He takes over holding the bundles
and I open the bag and bring things out until he says, "Yes, that one. I
haven't seen one of these in years."
"You
never know what you'll need until you don't have it." My mentor when I was
just a grease monkey in training taught me that.
"Amen,"
both Geordi and Jim say.
##
You
try to focus on your work but you can't. You'll relax when Liam and Raffi are
back on the ship. Or when Liam tells you Raffi left with Worf, since she's been
spending most of her off time at his place.
You
miss her. But maybe this is what it's going to be like now? Even once you're
free of space dock and she's sleeping on board every night. You sat next to
Liam for the first few months and it was awkward until you found your rhythm.
Bad
example though. Your rhythm was to fall in love.
Chakotay
sat next to Kathryn even when he was furious. Shit, love there too. Kirk would
be no help—he was in love with his first officer too. Maybe you should ask
Riker how he navigated things?
You
think of how pumped up the man would get if you bypassed Liam and went to him
and immediately decide you'll figure it out yourself.
"Hi,"
you hear from the door and turn to see Jack.
"Are
you ever in class?"
He
laughs. "It's Saturday."
Yes.
Yes, of course it is.
"My
father invited me to the debate. They're setting up now, right?"
You
nod.
"You
want me down there? Keep an eye on things?"
"I
can't ask you to do that."
"You're
not. I'm offering." He comes in and pulls a chair from the table to your
desk. "You've gotten really protective. I have a mother already. Be the
cool big sister who's not afraid to lead me astray and let me find my own way
back."
"That
sounds like a terrible big sister."
He
laughs. "Yeah, well I have limited experience with good role models. The
most stable force in my life may have been the Borg Queen."
You
laugh because that's possibly true for you too. "I'm not going to say yes,
please do this for me. But if you're already going to be there—and I pity you
listening to them rehearse—and you want to keep an eye out on things..."
"Liam
and Raffi."
"Yes,
those things. Then that would be great."
"You
told me you were bringing me on board as special counselor to the
captain."
"I
did tell you that. I also told you to keep that to yourself."
"Which
I have done. But...seems to me this is exactly the kind of thing that a special
counselor would do." He leans in, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Seems like just about anything could be covered in the 'other duties as
assigned' portion of that job description."
"I
don't want you in danger."
"Eh.
Danger and I are old mates."
"Just
be careful."
"I
will."
##
They
arrive after Liam, which pisses Raffi off. She told Worf they didn't have time
for sex.
Then
again how tense would she be if they hadn't? He normally does know when to work
off stress that way and when to use the time for other purposes like sparring
or meditation.
She'll
miss him so much when she's on the ship for real. This is a gift, being able to
spend so much time together.
Worf
thinks of the call he got from the CINC this morning while Raffi was showering.
It was succinct.
"I
think we both know I'm going to be micromanaging the hell out of you. I don't
know if you will thrive under that regime."
"Agreed,
Admiral."
"Seven
could use a head of ships services who isn't afraid of her. It's a slot she
hasn't filled yet and asked me for a recommendation. I know you've been there
done that as far as being on an Enterprise goes, but you might have
reasons to want to be on the ship?"
"I
might. What reason would you have for me to be on that ship other than
Commander Musiker?"
"Seven
and Liam, as much as they argue, tend to see things the same way. You and Raffi—and
I do like the effect you've had on her."
"I
had no effect. She is an honorable woman who—"
"Yes,
yes, fine. You and your zen had nothing to do with her not giving me the
willies anymore. Fine. At any rate, you bring a new perspective. I think you'd
be a good fit."
"I
will consider it."
"Good.
I'll need to know first thing Monday. Take the weekend. Talk to Musiker."
"And
Captain Seven? How will she feel?"
"Leave
Captain Seven to me."
Raffi
glares at him as he bumps into her. "What is wrong with you? We're late
because of you."
He
pulls her into one of the auditorium seats and says, "If it were possible
to serve together, would you want to?"
"You
mean give up the first officer assignment?" She never thought it would be
hers but now that it is, she doesn't want to.
"I
do not." He feels like he should just tell Janeway to shove the position
she's dangling and let this go... No, he must be brave and face this. It is
possible Raffaela only wishes to be his lover on an intermittent basis.
Her
expression changes. "Do you mean you could be on the ship?"
He
nods.
"Does
Seven know that?"
He
shakes his head.
"Janeway
suggested this?"
He
nods.
"What
slot?"
"Head
of ship's services. I would report to both you and Seven, so it may
be...irregular when it comes to fraternization. But as the captain is sleeping
with her chief engineer, she cannot say much."
"Plus
you're still sort of a contractor, right? You're reactivation contract is all
full of caveats."
He
nods. He feels proud of the loopholes he left himself for how and when he could
leave if he did not like working with so many people to report to after the
freedom of his previous position.
"She's
just going to have a ship full of captains to try to boss around then."
"You
are saying yes?" He feels a joy he has not known since Jadzia became his
mate.
"I'm
saying yes." She starts to laugh. "You realize Seven may be livid. Do
not tell Liam."
"I
am not a fool, Raffaela. Even if I am in love with you past the point of
reason."
"Awww,
Worf."
They
kiss and there are catcalls and whistles from the stage. Liam yells,
"We're ready to work on the video, Raffi, if you ever come up for
air."
A
few moments later they hear the seat next to them being pulled down and Jack's
annoying voice, "Yeah, this is what we want to see. Two cultures, brought
together by love, willing to let everyone—or wait, just the other fools
involved in this venture—witness their willingness to...merge."
"Go
away, Crusher," Worf says, only it's more of a growl. "Or I will
flatten you in mortal combat."
He
doesn't go away.
"I
can assign the worst duties imaginable as part of your cross training once
you're on the ship full time."
"See,
that's what makes a great first officer. Knowing how to motivate people. Carry
on, you two."
And
he is gone and they stop kissing and both feel a weight off their shoulders.
The weight of goodbye. They've each said it too many times.
Now
they won't have to.
Worf
sends Janeway a text saying he accepts. She sends him one back that simply says
she's pleased and to leave it to her.
They
both devoutly hope Janeway can manage Seven as well as she thinks.
##
Jack
stops at the stage and looks up at Liam and Geordi and the Kirk...clone? He
never did get closure on how that happened. "Safe to come up?"
"Yep.
But the stairs are around back," Liam says.
He
scoffs, sets the portable med kit he used to carry everywhere onto the stage,
then pops up the same way he would get out of a pool. All three of them groan.
"I
remember being that young," Geordi says.
"I
don't." Kirk holds his hand out and pulls him to his feet. "So you're
Picard's son?"
"Guilty
as charged." He knows he's studying Kirk way too closely.
"Section
31 cloned me from the remains your father left lying around."
"In
my defense," his father says, appearing from offstage like some
Shakespearean headliner, "I put a cairn over you."
Kirk
just sighs.
"All
right, I may have let the clean-up team handle your body the way they always do
on that kind of thing. But the cairn was lovely." He looks at Jack.
"He was stuck under the catwalk and the stones would not have lined up as
nicely if I'd piled them on top of him."
Jack
nods in the most noncommittal way he can. "So you two rehearse yet?"
"Oh,
no," his father says and Kirk echoes that.
"Just
going to wing it? The orator Gods giving it their all straight out of their
bums?"
"Well,
when you put it like that?" Kirk laughs. "I don't see a lot of you in
him, Jean-Luc. In fact, he could be me when I was young."
"I've
been told that a few times actually."
"Oh,
he's my son." His father looks at him with such pride it makes Jack want
to stand up a little straighter.
Kirk
winks at him. "My son didn't look a thing like me. Still meant the world
to me."
"What
are you doing here so early?" Liam studies him. "Seven took off the
ball and chain?"
"Maybe
I manage her a bit better than you do, mate." He grins in a way sure to
infuriate Liam.
But
Liam just gives him a smile that Jack thinks only men who are super good in bed
have and says, "Yeah, I don't think so."
He's
going to wear that expression someday. If Sidney ever acts as if she actually
likes him when they're in public. She's managing him like a champ even if he's
pretty sure she has no complaints about his technique—or affection.
Just
like Laris and his mother are managing his father. Probably runs in the family
like that receding hairline he hopes holds off for a bit.
He
hears someone else coming up the stage the way he did and knows it's Worf and
Raffi.
"Okay,
no one else do that, because we are going to test this baby out." Geordi
looks over at Data. "You want to do the honors?"
Data
nods and steps off the stage, landing gracefully. He pulls out a weapon that
looks more like what Jack used to make mischief with than Starfleet issue.
"Okay,
we're live. Everyone to the right side of the stage."
Jack
sees most move to Geordi and the audience's right but some move the other way.
Drama kids never die. "He means his right. Stage left."
"Thanks,
Jack." Once everyone is over, he says, "We're hot, Data. Give it a
quick test."
Data
fires at the empty side of the stage, and some kind of shield absorbs the
energy.
"Try
a more prolonged burst."
Again,
success.
"Max
power?"
Data
turns the weapon up and fires. Again nothing gets through. He picks up
something off the floor and chucks it super hard at the shield. "In case
they are using projectile weapons."
The
thing burns up in the shield.
"Okay,
we're good."
Jack
feels eyes on him, the way he used to when he was on the run, and turns to
search the stage. He expects it to be Alara giving him the stink eye for being
the Borg Prince, but she's talking to his father, and they look so comfortable
together it shocks him.
But
then he realizes another ensign is glaring at him. He walks over.
"Hi."
"Hi."
The guy is beyond stiff.
"You
look familiar."
"I
was on Titan. I shot Captain Shaw. Because of you."
Jack
feels sick. And suddenly Liam is there, a hand on his shoulder and one on
Miller's. "My two fav ensigns. Miller, gotta admire the balls of defying
your captain."
"How
mad is she, sir?"
"She'll
get over it. As, you can tell I think, I got over any aggravation with this
young man." He squeezes Jack's shoulder. "And you."
Miller
nods tightly.
"Play
nice is what I'm saying. In case that's not clear."
"Sir,
yes sir."
"Don't
do that. It's just junior officer speak for 'Fuck you too, sir.'" And he's
off to help Raffi, and Jack is left laughing and sees Miller laughing too, but
kind of against his will, if Jack's reading him right.
"For
what it's worth, I'm really sorry," Jack says, keeping any edge of
glibness or sarcasm out of his voice.
"I
know you didn't ask for it."
"But
you hate me anyway? Yeah, I get that." He decides the best thing to do is
what his father did in the holodeck, after Liam's gut wrenching story about
Wolf 359. "It's all right. I understand."
And
he leaves so he won't make Miller uncomfortable and goes to sit next to Worf on
the floor. "Teach me to meditate?"
"No."
"Oh,
come on. It'll do wonders for me. My father will be so pleased."
"Your
father is sufficiently pleased with me as it is."
"Oh,
come on."
Worf
takes a long, dangerously loud breath.
"Crusher,
come help us." Raffi shakes her head at him.
"You're
saved by your woman, I guess," he whispers then gets up to go help her and
Liam as Worf exhales just as dramatically.
He's
just so damned fun to fuck with.
##
Alara
watches them all working, taking in how they are almost a collective
themselves. She thinks she would have done well in Starfleet. She thinks it
would have given her the grounding she needed to be...normal. Good.
Not
afraid all the time.
She
sees that Jim is in his element and is happy for him. He's bored in her
apartment.
He's
bored with just her for company, seems to perk up whenever Miller or Data show
up. But she doesn't take it personally. Unlike with Liam, Jim's not going to
hurt her.
Unlike
Liam, Jim sleeps in the guest bedroom. And always has.
And
she was so sick of the Kirk android, it never occurred to her to try to seduce
the living legend—the Don Juan of Starfleet.
And
he doesn't seem to be that. She thinks when he does love, he loves deeply,
because he's told her about Spock and Edith—although she thinks Edith was more
an object lesson in how to make a difference in a more positive way. But he
trusted her with that.
Any
affection he gives, any flirting he does, is just him. Is just his nature.
Her
eyes turn to Liam. Girlhood crushes never die. Even if he has barely glanced
her way.
"How
are you doing, my dear?" Jean-Luc asks softly and he seems to know exactly
who she's looking at.
"The
heart most say I don't have is a little broken. But I think he was never mine
to begin with."
"I
think you're right. You'll find someone who loves you for you and when you do,
it will be glorious." He links his arm with hers and leads her offstage.
"Let's let them work. I'd love to have you over to the Chateau."
"And
your women? Will they love it?" She laughs at his expression.
"Jean-Luc, they have to hate me."
"Well...
Hate is a very strong word." His smile is rueful. "I'd love for you
to meet them. I'd love for you to be part of our family."
"Why?"
"I
think sometimes you look at me and you see your father. And sometimes when I
look at you, I see someone who was like a daughter to me. Someone...I let down.
I didn't see who she was because I was so busy trying to make her what I wanted
her to be."
She
holds his arm a little more tightly.
"I
lost her just before you lost your father. So maybe we're both looking for
something in the other that we'll never find in anyone else?"
She
blinks back tears. "I wish my father could have met you. The man—not the
bogey man who haunted him."
"I
wish that too. If I could go back, do things over, reach out instead of
carrying on as if nothing had ever happened..." He sighs. "But that
wasn't me then. I carried on. Introspection, emotions. Not my strong suit.
Although I'm trying to get better."
"All
I did was look inward. And feel. Maybe there's a happy medium?"
"I
think we find it when we're on the Federation Council floor. Your resolution
the other day was brilliant. I loved the way you handled how the Andorians
would otherwise have used it to their advantage."
"You
were quick to second it. We're confusing everyone with how well we work
together."
"I
know. Isn't it fun?" He looks like a mischievous little boy and she grins
at him in what, she's afraid, is the same way.
"They
have no idea what they've unleashed, Jean-Luc."
"No,
they do not. And I for one, can't wait to see what we accomplish. I know we
won't always be in accord, but you'll have my respect. And my affection."
She
makes sure no one is looking, then kisses him on the cheek. "And you
mine."
##
Data
stands in the seating area of the auditorium, assessing the stage for any
vulnerabilities the others might not have seen.
Kirk
comes down the stairs and joins Data, standing with his arms crossed over his
chest. "Any advice for the guy pretending to be an android pretending to
be me?"
"No.
You have been effective so far in the few interviews you have granted." It
required creativity, and input from Kirk and Alara, to respond to whoever is
controlling the android—or what's left of them in the cordoned off area of
Data's mind—and convince the handler less publicity would be better than more.
"If
anything happens to me..."
Data
knows what Kirk wants. "I will try to locate the infant."
"Thank
you. Work with Agnes. And...let her bring him up. If you could be a godfather,
that'd be great."
Data
does not ask why Kirk would wish Agnes to raise the child instead of Alara—does
not have to. "Will I be godfather if you do survive?"
"Hell,
yes."
Data
smiles. This man makes one feel special. Data understands why that would have
spoken to Spock, even if at times it might have been against his will—his
desire to embrace logic.
"You
would think, after all the androids I've mind-fucked over the years—no offense—that
this would be a cake walk. But..."
"Just
be yourself. The android was designed to be as much like you as possible.
Trained on videos of you, interviews. If you cannot be you, then who can?"
"But
I may be blinking too much."
Data
smiles. "That can be programmed as well. And was, so the android would not
subconsciously set people on edge."
"So
just be myself. Or...the old me. I'm not really that me anymore. I'm a baby
too. If you don't count the sixty years of memories." He grins, the smile
he is famous for, and Data knows he will do fine.
"I
believe the steps Agnes has taken to protect you will be sufficient for the
day, but I would be most remiss if I did not tell that it has been an honor to
work with you."
Kirk
put a hand on his shoulder. "And to be my friend."
"And
that."
Kirk
starts to turn away then stops. "You met Spock once, right?"
"I
did. We had several opportunities at that time to talk at length as we
worked."
"Did
he mention me?"
Data
takes a nanosecond to recall everything said, how Spock softened when
discussing Kirk. "He did. I asked what you were like." Then, in
Spock's voice, he says, "Words would be incapable of expressing what James
T. Kirk was like. Or the impact Jim—the captain had on me. My life would have
been...incomplete without him in it."
Kirk
is very still, and Data wonders whether using Spock's voice was wise—or kind?
But
then Kirk looks up at him, tears in his eyes, and nods. "Thank you,
Data."
He
pulls himself together before Data's eyes, rubbing his eyes, pulling down his
jacket in a way that is different than how Admiral Picard does it, and saying,
"Okay, now we just wait for showtime."
18.
Alara
stands at the moderator's podium, facing the crowd—not a big one to her
surprise. She'd feel a little hurt at that if she didn't find it a good sign.
Maybe people are losing interest in hate?
The
people that are in attendance are wiping their eyes. Jean-Luc and Jim are
taking turns telling stories from their past missions where working with people
unlike you turned out for the best. Or went horribly wrong but in the funniest
ways.
They'd
started the debate disagreeing mildly, then the more Jean-Luc, talked, the more
Jim would say, "Actually, you're right and that reminds me of..." And
they were off down memory lane.
Her
handler will be furious. Not just at their android Kirk, and as she glances
back at Data she can tell they are pinging him—only they think it's their own
android—by the way he looks back at her and nods. But also at her, for not
moderating the two. Not getting them back on track.
She's
making a choice, God help her. It's a lot scarier to choose being good than
choosing to be nasty was.
Suddenly
there are gasps from the crowd and she turns as an admiral she recognizes from
the support group she attended for people who lost loved ones in the Borg
attack steps onto the stage.
With
a weapon.
"You're
the cause of all of this," he yells and fires at Jean-Luc.
The
podiums are in a line so it's just a step to get between the beam and its
intended target. A step some might not make fast enough, but she does. Because
she would have done this if Starfleet had ever given her a fucking chance.
And
then there's only pain as she falls backwards and Jean-Luc catches her and Jack
rushes from offstage to help.
Jim
steps between all of them and the admiral. "Put the weapon down." He
motions for Miller to move closer, to close the gap.
She
sees Miller look at Jack, and then he does what Jim says.
"You
shoot me, he shoots you, Admiral."
"I
brought extra," the admiral says as he pulls out another weapon.
Fuck.
They are so fucked. Alara tries to get up. "Jim, no."
Jack
eases her back down as Jean-Luc cradles her head on his knees and tells her to
listen to his voice, just listen to his voice.
Things
are going a little dark. "I'm sorry I called you the Borg Prince,
Jack."
"You're
not the first and you probably won't be the last. I'm over it."
"See,
my dear. Everything's fine. Let my boy work on you and forget everything
else."
Easy
for him to say.
##
You're
digging into dessert, your hand on Liam's thigh when Kathryn says, "So the
head of ship's services... I made a selection for you."
You
feel Liam tense under how hard you're suddenly clenching his thigh. "I
asked for input, not for you to do it."
"I
know." She stares at you blandly, the old look of "Let me have it, I
dare you."
"More
coffee?" Chakotay asks and when no one says anything goes into the
kitchen.
"Do
I want to know who it is?"
"I
don't know, do you?"
Now
you feel Liam's hand on yours and his is shaking—you think the only reason he
would get a tremor in this kind of situation is that he's pissed for you.
"Stop
playing games with her," he says, and his voice is the one he used to use
on you when he'd just had it.
She
meets his eyes. "My, aren't you protective? But then we knew that."
Chakotay
must be picking the goddamn beans himself because how long does it take to get
himself a refill? You really think he'd be useful in this conversation right
about now.
"It's
Worf," Kathryn says as she goes back to her dessert. "Rules on
fraternization are apparently going out the window on your ship. And I'm aiding
and abetting."
You
sit very still. "Why him?"
"I'm
impressed with his new sense of zen. Add that to his other capabilities and you
have everything you need as a support chief."
"And
another captain to manage." You squeeze gently to let Liam know you're
okay with him being on the ship.
"It's
the flagship. These things happen."
"I
just want to make sure that I understand what you're saying. You're not
suggesting him. You're appointing him. Without even asking for my
opinion?"
"Benefit
of being the CINC, Seven."
"What
other positions are you going to fill?"
"None
that I know of. It's your ship."
Chakotay
finally comes back in and he's got a fresh pot so you forgive him as he refills
everyone. "Kathryn knows that interfering in your first command is
overreaching and setting a bad precedent for how you two will work in the
future. But in this case, it was necessary." He walks back into the
kitchen, you assume to put the pot back.
"What
he said."
He
comes back out. "And she's sorry." He sit and grins at you.
"Not
really." She rolls her eyes. "Seven, Raffi will be happier with him
there. You care about her well being. And I think you'll find he offers some
dissenting views from those of your current and ex lovers."
Liam
chokes on his dessert and washes it down with water. "She and I disagree
all the time."
"Yes,
I've read your logs. You argue and then one of you does what the other one
wanted. It's all sound and fury, signifying nothing."
You
take a deep breath and let it out slowly. "And if I refuse?"
"You
won't, Seven." Her voice is calm and kind—and implacable as fuck.
"Now, tell me all about the Jurati ship. How does it differ from a
cube?"
You
want to get up and storm out, dragging Liam behind you.
You
want to leap across the table and tell this woman she can't make decisions like
this for you. Even if she's been making decisions for you since she stole you
from the Collective.
You
want to stay silent and let her sit in what she's done.
You
do none of those things. Instead, you tell her about the differences. Liam
squeezes your hand and chimes in. Chakotay smiles gently, as if understanding
what you're feeling.
And
Kathryn sits and takes in the information but you know at her core, she's
assessing you and her and the relationship between you—in all its permutations.
Just
as she always has done.
##
Jack
glances at Kirk and Miller—he saw the moment as Miller was looking at him when
he was forgiven. When Miller stepped in to become a living wall with Kirk
between the shooter and the rest of them.
Jack
keeps half his attention on what's going on and half on what he's doing for
Alara. This is pretty much how he and his mother practiced medicine during
their more lively missions so it's like falling off a log.
"Admiral,
I don't know what's happened to you." He and Miller take a step forward,
then another, moving as one. "But we're going to take those weapons from
you now.
"The
real Kirk wouldn't say something so patently stupid. It'll be a pleasure
ridding the world of one more synth." And he fires at both Kirk and
Miller.
A
field flares around them, with enough green that Jack feels something familiar
in it—something welcoming. A field that seems to not repel but absorb the
weapons.
A
field that has to be Borg.
"Remind
me to thank Agnes when we get back, Jarred." And then Kirk punches the
admiral—pretty damn hard considering he's an old guy—and he goes flying back. "And
these enhancements don't suck either."
Miller
hurries to get the weapons and put the admiral in restraints.
Data
comes out from offstage. "The security officers who should have been on
duty are gone."
Alara
groans. "Assholes. Paid them too much for them to betray me."
"Us,"
Kirk murmurs as he kneels next to her. "Try getting used to saying 'us.'
It goes so much further with people."
"Fuck
you, Jim. And you couldn't have brought personal shields for everyone?"
"Only
had two, ma'am," Miller says as he and Data guard the entrances to the
stage. It's clear the shield between them and the audience is working. Some
people have rushed the stage—mostly, Jack thinks, to help—but can't get
through.
Danger,
as usual, is going to come from the one place they thought was safe.
He
can tell Alara is starting to let go and he doesn't think the wound is bad
enough to give up yet. The angle she'd been at when she stepped between his
father and the shooter, may make all the difference in outcome.
"Sir,
keep her with us," he whispers to Kirk. "I've got this." He goes
back to work.
"Talented
son you've got there, Picard."
"You
have no idea." The pride in his father's voice makes Jack work just a tiny
bit faster—and he's already going super fast.
##
Two
people are halfway across the planet from the debate. They have chosen to not
stay in town, to embrace this new life being offered them.
They
lie in bed in a resort in the mountains, sated after a hike and good food and
even better sex, and it's only when alerts start coming in on both their padds,
that they look at each other and laugh because you can take the people out of
intel, but you can't take intel out of the people.
Then
they turn on the video screen.
And
watch all hell break loose.
"Should
we have been there?" she asks softly.
"It
is immaterial now. We were not." He takes a deep breath.
"There's
an Earth saying: Not my circus, not my monkeys."
"But
we started this. I started this. This is my circus."
She
rolls onto him so she's blocking his view of the screen. "No, it's the
circus of whoever runs this godawful group. The cowards who use other people's
pain but won't show their faces."
"Picard
would not have been involved but for us."
"No?
He was going to join the Council no matter what we said. And Alara looks like
Ro Laren. Of course he would have tried to win her over based on what you've
told me of their relationship. A chance to redo mistakes, to take the road not
taken. That's the kind of thing JL can't resist. And we had nothing to do with
Miller or Kirk or Jack or Data being there."
He
loves that she makes it their problem not just his.
"No.
That is on Agnes."
"Exactly."
"Still,
I feel they are my monkeys, even if I am willing to let responsibility for the
circus go."
"I
know. It's why I love you."
#
I'm
sitting with Kathryn on the balcony as Seven and Chakotay clean up. The bourbon
she's given me is amazing but I'm still so pissed off about Worf that I can't
form words to tell her that.
She
swirls hers, the amber liquid catching the strings of golden light that wind
through the railings. So whimsical—not what I expected.
"You've
got to let go of emotion and use your head, Liam," she finally says.
"Do you have any idea what a bored Musiker with a cause is like?"
I
have to admit I don't.
"I
do." She leans in. "I'm not going to give you details. But she
wouldn't have been my first pick for Seven's first officer." She holds her
hand up when I try to say something and I see where Seven learned her tactics.
"The dynamics between a first officer and a captain, once they've crossed
a line but then walked it back, can be very...toxic." She meets my eyes.
"You
and he...?"
She
nods. "Seven has no idea as far as I can tell. Please don't tell her.
But...I'm sparing you that. Raffi and Worf are new. Add distance from him and
proximity to Seven and they could fall apart—and she could seriously annoy you,
I promise. Assign him with you and you suddenly have a dynamic that might well
be magical. For your state of mind as well as the good of ship."
"Plus
you don't want to have to deal with him here. Running wild as head of Starfleet
Intelligence."
She
laughs. "You said that, not me." She studies me. "Did you and
Seven...?"
"No,
but I would have asked her out as soon as we weren't in each other's chain. I
wasn't sure if she would have said yes."
"Well,
you're clearly an idiot. She's utterly gone on you."
"Not
the first time I missed signs. I'm always amazed when someone likes me
back."
Her
smile is gorgeous. "I don't know why. You're a good looking man, Liam
Shaw, with a quick mind and wit, and an encyclopedic knowledge of the
regs."
"Wasn't
aware following regs was your biggest concern in life."
Her
grin is dangerous and I like her so much for it. "They're not. But I do
like to know which of them I'm breaking."
It's
impossible to stay mad at this woman.
"Are
you going to forgive me for Worf?"
I
nod and hold up the glass. "This is amazing."
"A
little distillery Chakotay and I discovered in Colorado." She looks out
over the city, the fairy lights reflected in her eyes. "It's fun to
discover things together after so many years apart. Don't forget to savor the
moments, Liam."
"Never."
Seven
comes out with a glass of her own and I can tell she doesn't want to take one
of the chairs, so I pull her onto my lap.
"Oh,
God. Young love."
"You're
just jealous," I say as I kiss Seven. It's not a deep kiss, nothing too
much. Just us reconnecting—just me showing her support. "The bourbon's
good."
She
nods and then gets up and moves over to the chair next to me.
Suddenly
I hear Chakotay yell, "Guys, get in here."
We
all hurry in and he has the main video screen on. It's the debate—and shit has
hit the fucking fan.
"What
the fuck?" I ask.
"I'm
not sure. I got an alert," Chakotay says.
I
frown and look at Seven who is also frowning. "You got an alert? We didn't
get alerts. Did you get an alert, Kathryn? Nope, you sure didn't because we
were right there with you." I take in the expression on her face—or really
more in her eyes, if you know how to look. "Oh my God. Let me guess: Meet
the new head of Starfleet Intelligence?"
"You
said that, not me." With a grin, she motions for Chakotay to turn up the
volume.
I
can tell Sam's on the ground. I can see Jack's working on her and Jim's talking
to her. Picard is supporting her head. Miller's on guard in front of them all,
facing not the crowd but the backstage area. Data has the other side.
A
video of what happened plays. I see what has to be Jurati tech protect Miller
and Jim from the fire of two phasers. But Sam didn't have it, Picard either.
And
I wouldn't have...
I
feel Seven's hand steal into mine, her murmured, "You might have
been..."
I
tighten my grip on her. "Yeah, I might have been."
"Thank
you for coming here, Seven, instead of going there," Kathryn says. "I
couldn't have stood to see you hurt that way."
"Hey,
I'd have been the dead or wounded guy," I say as they hug.
Chakotay
gives me a wry smile and a shake of a head and mutters something about mothers
and daughters.
I
let it go.
I
can hear Jim's talking to Sam. "Sam, look at me. There's a time for a hero
to die, and this is not yours. You have more to do. Your have so much more to
do." He looks at Jack who nods and says, "Keep talking to her."
"Crusher's
a doctor too?" Kathryn asks.
"Crusher's
a little bit of everything," Seven says. She sounds so fucking proud of
him and I feel that too.
"Why
is the feed not cutting out?" Chakotay turns it up a little more.
"Because
we ensured it wouldn't." I share looks with all of them. "It seemed a
good idea at the time."
And
if she just changed sides by saving Picard, well, maybe it was. The footage
will be viral by midnight.
I
can barely hear her say, "Jim, I've done bad things."
"But
you're not going to. Not anymore. This was your big first step." He gently
cups her cheek. "I believe in you, Sam."
"As
do I, my dearest," Picard says prompting Kathryn to ask in a super snotty
voice, "What's their deal?"
"No
clue," I say. "Last I knew she was calling for him to be put to
sleep."
"Yeah,
that's what I thought." Chakotay pours out more bourbon as we all get
comfy on their sectional and watch as first responders arrive on the scene.
"Are
they wearing Starfleet uniforms?" I ask.
Kathryn
slips her padd into her pocket. "Now how would they have known to get
there?"
We
are all staring at her.
"I
wanted us clear of this bullshit, but I'm also fully aware that pretending to
be first responders would be a great way for Alara's group to take them all
away in one fell swoop. I'd rather that didn't happen. If not for her or Kirk
or Picard, for young Crusher. I like what I saw of him."
"And
Miller's a sweetheart," I say.
"If
insubordinate." Seven still sounds a little peeved.
"Yeah,
poor you." I laugh at her as she rolls her eyes. "You're going to
find out what it's like to manage, well, you."
"No,
you are, because Miller's in engineering."
"I
meant in general."
"Oh,
yeah, that's probably true. Worf and Raffi alone..." She glares at Kathryn
but not with much heat.
I
pull her in closer. "They'll save our lives and you know it, Sev. I sure
as shit won't. Unless it's technical."
"You
did break a tractor beam with the ship." She grins at me and I see pride
in me—like, at my daring, not for some more normal reason like my high sarcasm
rating.
"Didn't
think you noticed." I look at the others. "She was not happy with me.
And vice versa."
"How
can you not notice someone flying their ship into a tractor beam?"
Chakotay asks. "Even if you're on the outs."
"We
did that. Hundreds of times." Kathryn sounds like it's not a lie.
Until
Chakotay cracks up and she does too. "Okay, no, that is pretty
awesome."
19.
Laris
holds up a bottle of something neither Worf nor Raffi recognize. "This is
one of my experiments. Seemed like the right occasion to bring it out. Lots of
effort but we'll see if it turns out good or bad."
"Ouch,"
Raffi says, and sees Beverly biting back a smile. "We...did stuff."
"Yes,
stuff." Laris smiles at her so prettily she almost can't be mad.
"Well,
how much were we expected to accomplish?" JL asks. "Even the
conspiracy in Kirk's time wasn't just the three that Valeris named."
"Oh,
I know." Laris pours out a small amount into JL's glass, and Raffi washes
him swish it as Laris walks over to her and leans down, murmuring, "I have
the most delicious pomegranate infused sparkling water. Just nod if you want
some."
She
nods and Laris is off.
JL
is doing the sniff and taste thing that wine lovers dig so much. Wine was never
really Raffi's poison so she doesn't feel like she's missing out. A moment
later, Laris sets a glass down for her and goes back to her seat.
"It's
delicious." Picard smiles at them and Worf worries this will be more of
the bitter mead. "Enjoy our Laris's bounty. What an excellent addition to
the line-up this will be."
He
gets up and pours everyone but Raffi a glass but squeezes her shoulder as he
passes.
Worf
takes a tentative taste, sure he will not enjoy it. But it is...good. Not blood
wine but then what is?
"Oh,
Laris, this is exquisite." Beverly leans over and kisses her right on the
mouth. "So talented."
"I'm
glad you like it."
"Love
it. Not like." They're staring into each other's eyes so intently that both
Worf and Raffi wonder if Picard is actually part of this. He's busy tasting the
wine, eyes closed, mouth set in a beatific smile and totally ignoring what's
going on beside him.
"So
is it just you two who are together?" Raffi asks and immediately feels
Worf kick her. Why can't she let this go?
Laris
laughs. Beverly laughs. Picard opens his eyes and winks at her.
And
she looks at Worf who just says, "Please let it go, Raffaela."
Laris
is flushed from her wine being a hit or maybe just from making out with Beverly—Raffi's
not sure but she looks super hot. Until she says, "So...just to sum up:
you all accomplished pretty much...nothing?" Her expression isn't mean,
her tone isn't sarcastic.
It's
as if she's fact-checking, not criticizing.
"Samantha
is alive and on our side. I've invited her to brunch on Sunday," Picard
says and Worf wonders if she will be added to the harem—now Raffaela has him
speculating. Most annoying.
"Were
you going to tell us, Jean-Luc?" Beverly asks.
"I
believe I did. You two might want to listen to me more and make out less."
Raffi
makes an "Oh, no, he didn't" face at Worf who chokes on his wine.
JL
looks very smug. "At least Samantha enjoys my presence."
"Jean-Luc,
you took forever picking either of us. We solved it for you. If you get left
out from time to time—well, that's on you." Beverly grins at him.
"And we love you."
"Yes,
we do."
"Well,
that's fine then." He looks at Raffi with a very strange smile—like he
might actually be in charge of this group after all.
Worf
believes he only thinks he is, but wisely keeps that opinion to himself.
##
Jack
roams the ship looking for Raffi. He finds her in the gym and she glares at him
as he says, "I want to clear the air."
"For
choosing sides? Hey, at least you picked two of the command team to protect—now
they can protect you." She turns her back on him as she goes to another
machine to work on.
"I'm
sorry I lied to you."
"No,
you're not. You're sorry that lying to me may have made me reconsider if I'm in
your corner or not."
He
thinks about that. "Yeah, that's probably more accurate."
She
laughs. "I used to be a pro at the 'get myself out of trouble with no
actual contrition' apology." She goes back to working out.
He
waits.
"Was
there something else?"
"Are
we okay?"
"I
don't know, Jack. Are we?"
He
sighs. Oh man, she can play this as well as he can. He drops any pretense.
"Okay, one con artist to another—have I lost your support?"
"Did
you ever have it?" Her expression doesn't change.
"Really?
You don't want me on the ship?"
"Did
I say that?"
"Bloody
hell, Raffi. Stop answering my questions with other questions."
"Sucks
to be fucked with, doesn't it, Crusher?" She laughs at him. "We're
fine. Lie to me again and we won't be."
"What
if the captain tells me to?"
"Fine.
But if Liam tells you to, not fine."
He
sighs. He can envision plenty of scenarios when Liam forgets he's not captain
of anything other than engineering and tells him to do something on the sly.
Well, he'll just have to not get caught.
"You
are not saying okay, Crusher."
"I
know."
"Wow,
your dad wasn't wrong. You really are loyal to the walking dick."
"He
just goes by—"
She
holds her hand up in an unmistakable order to stop talking so he does. "I
guess we'll play this day by day."
"I'll
lie for you and Worf too."
"To
them? Really?" She scoffs.
"Well,
to anyone but them."
"Yeah,
great."
"You
know like if, for instance, you were throwing Worf a surprise party and needed
someone to lie to him to keep him occupied till you were ready for him to show
up. I've proven I can lie to him."
"Uh
huh."
He
can see he's not getting anywhere. "Why do I feel like you and my mom are
sharing notes?"
"Because
we may be, you little shit. I'm a mom too. I'm wise to your ways. Seven may
think you need protecting, but I think we need protecting from you." Her
smile is teasing.
"Yeah,
yeah." He gives her his saddest look. "I'll let you get back to it.
Maybe try the punching bag instead of taking it out on me."
"Oh,
poor lil' Jack. Can dish it out but he can't take it."
"Yeah,
yeah. You got me." He backs away then turns, hurrying off while he still
feels like he's in the win column.
##
You
find Raffi in the mess eating a sandwich and sit with her. "I didn't love
how this worked, Raff. You with Worf. Me with Liam. We accomplished
nothing."
"That's
not true. We've got people backing away from the ideology. We've been tracking
the hate speech on the socials. It's way down."
"The
ones behind it are still out there though. And I wonder—if we'd worked together—would
we have done better?"
Raffi
puts down her sandwich. "Yeah, I guess I wonder that too." She sighs
gently. "Do you still want me for your first officer? If you've rethought
this and want him..."
"Him?"
You see her look away. "Oh, you mean Liam? God no. I want him in
engineering where, when he tells me something, it'll be for the good of all of
us and the ship, not just to annoy me."
"Okay
that's great, but not a ringing endorsement of you wanting me to be in the
role." She's still not meeting your eyes.
"Raff,
there is no one I want at my back but you. This adventure—well, it was batshit
at times and let's not do anything this way again, okay? Let's talk to each
other before we let Worf put someone undercover or we send someone off to the
Jurati." Although Miller's thrived in Agnes's care, so you're not really sorry
you did that. You know he'll be an even better officer once he finally comes
home.
"Let's
not have anyone break into Daystrom Station. Rule number one." Raffi grins
at you. "That place gives me the creeps."
You
laugh. "I like that. Rule number two: lovers are off limits for undercover
ops."
"Seconded.
Except mine probably lives for those. Oh well, in general."
You
grin and start eating. "Rule number three: we can tell each other things.
Just because we got out of the habit when we were breaking up doesn't mean we
can't be actual friends. I don't want to be just your ex."
"And
my boss."
"Right.
The things I loved about you, I still love."
"Aww,
Seven, that was downright mushy. As much as I hate to say it, the dick is a
good influence on you." Her smile is real and untroubled, and for the
first time you feel as if the two of you might stand a chance at a solid
friendship, not just the bond of ex-lovers who still respect each other.
"And
Worf has been for you. I've never seen you more comfortable in your own
skin."
Raffi's
smile is downright lecherous.
"No
details though."
"Right,
I don't want to know how Shaw might or might not make your toes curl." Her
grin is mischievous and sweet and you nod and say, "Same."
"Do
you buy Alara's change of heart?" Raffi asks softly.
"I'm
not sure. Jim and Picard and Liam all seem convinced but—"
"They're
boys. And she's gorgeous."
You
can't bite back the cackle and it makes her laugh that way it always did.
You
think about it beyond the dumb men meet beautiful woman thing. "I mean
she's a politician, right? She's going to swing the way it makes sense. And
maybe now being a humans-only asshole doesn't make sense?"
"I
guess time will tell. And as we work to find who's behind this, maybe she'll
turn out to not be as over the Borg invasion as she claims."
"Yeah.
Time will for sure tell." You get up. "In the meantime, I want
cookies. One or two?"
"Two.
Gonna live large today."
"Thrill
seeker." But you take two also.
##
Alara
is in the park, walking slowly, enjoying the air. She feels...free.
She
does not, however, feel safe. She did before. Hate was like that personal
shield Jim had. People who hate are way scarier than people who love—and if you
all hate together, well, it's heady. She can't lie about that.
But
it's also ugly. And you have to lie to yourself. You have to blame everyone
else and she's tired of doing that.
A
text shows up on her padd from Jean-Luc. Just wanted to make sure you hadn't
forgotten about brunch at the Chateau on Sunday.
Wouldn't
miss it.
She wishes that wasn't a lie as she sits on a bench and listens to the birds.
A
man sits on the bench next to her—no surprise since he called this meeting.
"This isn't over."
"It
is for me." She knows what will happen. Isn't surprised when he pulls out
a phaser.
She
will die the same way her father did. She imagines that's a Starfleet-issued
weapon. They'll try to make it look like a conspiracy on the other side.
No
brunch for her. She's astoundingly sad at that thought.
"Excuse
me," a dark haired woman says as she hurries over to them, her accent
vaguely Irish. "I'm dreadfully turned around. Which way to downtown?"
The
man eases the weapon back into his jacket and starts to answer, only to have
the woman pull out a hypospray and inject him.
She
smiles at Alara as she brushes her hair behind her very pointed ear. "Do
you have any dietary issues we should know of for brunch? Jean-Luc always
forgets to ask."
Alara
realizes the woman is the Laris that Jean-Luc talks about. A Romulan. Saving
her life? "Uh, no. No allergies or anything."
"Great.
Now, we're going to keep what happens next to ourselves, aren't we?"
"Are
we?"
"My,
don't you have spice. I like that." She tips up the man's chin. "So
much ruckus and plans and silly people doing silly adventures when all we
really need to know is who is in charge of your group." She glances at
Alara. "When you want it done right..."
"Do
it yourself."
"Bingo."
She slaps the man not terribly gently. "Names. Now."
She's
holding a padd and as he starts spitting out names like they're vomit, it's
recording.
There
are less of them than Alara expects. And not who she expects. But maybe that's
the point. How many of these people are even true believers instead of just
those who hope to profit off fear and pain and hate?
Laris
leans in and asks the man, "Anything else you really don't want to tell me
but have to?"
"I'm
blowing up the Enterprise after I kill this defector."
"Have
you already set the explosives for that operation?"
"No."
Alara
studies him. "He's not carrying them."
"No,
he's not. Where are they?"
"Spacedock.
Locker 36 in the workers area."
"Does
anyone else know they're there."
"No,"
he says.
Laris
looks around then pulls out a disruptor and fires, and the man disappears in a
flash of sparks.
"Are
you going to kill me now?"
"Why
would I ask about your dietary restrictions if I planned to kill you?"
"You
might have just been making small talk to keep me from running."
"True.
You're a smart woman." She pockets the disruptor. "And no, I'm not
going to. I'm going to find the people on this list and give them the same
drug, make sure we haven't missed anyone, and kill them all."
"Wow.
What are you going to do tomorrow?"
Laris
laughs. "That did sound a bit pompous. But I do have to act fast. Can't
risk any of them getting spooked."
"Can
I help? You'd have to go to them, and that will waste time, and you might get
picked up by surveillance, but I could ask them to come here to us, where this
is no surveillance or my handler wouldn't have picked this spot to meet."
She smiles. "Jim said I needed to start atoning. This seems like a good
start."
Laris's
smile is only with one side of her mouth, very dangerous, also amused.
"Let's do it then."
"Oh,
and I know I said no dietary restrictions, but I don't love mashed
potatoes," she says as she texts the first person on the list. "Just
in case you were planning Coquille St. Jacques."
"I
wasn't but duly noted. I can't abide them either. It's the—"
"Texture,"
they both say together.
"He's
in a meeting now. Will be here in an hour. You want me to try someone else or
wait?"
Laris
points to one of the other names. "I think she's the most likely to know
any others your handler didn't."
"Agreed.
And if they arrive together?" she asks as she texts the person Laris
picked.
Laris
looks like she'd welcome that.
"Scary."
"Tal
Shiar. Former. Do you like duck?"
"Love
it." She gets an answer back. "On her way. Do you really trust
me?"
"Jean-Luc
does. That's good enough for me."
"Pfffffff."
She laughs at Laris's expression. "I'm a politician. Do not try to bullshit
me with platitudes like that. What have you got on me?"
Laris
just smiles. "My grandmother was an astoundingly good judge of character.
I inherited some of that from her."
"Maybe
it only works when dealing with Romulans."
"She
didn't live among Romulans. She lived here."
"That
must have been lonely. Also way to go, Starfleet Intelligence."
"Oh,
it was well before Starfleet and she wasn't here as Tal Shiar. Something much
more...universal."
"I
forget how long your people and Vulcans live. That's probably hard if you lose
those you care about."
"It
is." Laris looks a little lost for a moment. Then she seems to mentally
shake herself. "I'm going to pull the same routine of little lost
lamb."
"There's
a reason it's a classic."
"Indeed."
She
leans back as Laris retreats to wherever she was hiding and waits. Should
atoning involve this much killing? Should it bother her more that she's fine
with it?
Oh
well, not like she's pulling the trigger.
She's
really looking forward to Sunday; she hasn't had duck in ages.
##
Data
sits with Kirk in an out of the way bar. Data knows Kirk is not ashamed of him,
just trying to keep a low profile in case Section 31 decides to reclaim him—or
figures out he's going to come for the child. Data's staying with him until
he's safely off planet.
"May
I ask you something, sir?"
"Of
course. And, Data, how many times do I have to tell you to call me Jim?"
"More
than you have apparently." Data waits to see if Kirk will have a comeback,
because he often does and it is often humorous. But he's quiet.
"I
would like to serve on the new Enterprise but I hesitate to broach this
with Seven of Nine."
"Hmmm."
"I
am unable to interpret that." Data waits for more.
"Why
do you want to be on that ship?" Kirk is looking at Data like he already
knows the answer. "And believe me, I get it. I do."
"It's
home," Data says softly. Even though technically home could be with Soji
and the others. Data had initially considered staying for a while after taking
the Kirk android there but it didn't feel like home.
"Let
it be someone else's home. Don't do what I did—or what I let my crew do. Homestead."
"You
were highly effective together."
"Yes,
but whose destiny did we steal by never giving up those seats?" He motions
the server for another drink as he throws back the one he has. "I could
never let go. And maybe I wasn't supposed to. But if Seven doesn't want you on
her ship—and I don't know if she does or doesn't—then don't force it."
Data
nods.
"Data
your future is limitless. And I have to tell you, I think you're missing the
obvious answer."
"I
am unsure how obvious it could be if I fail to see it."
Kirk
smiles gently. "Ask for a small ship."
"To
serve on?"
"To
captain. Get a bunch of these junior officers struggling to fit in after being
assimilated and make them the most effective crew Starfleet has ever seen. I've
watched you. You don't just follow orders. You lead. Miller followed you
without question."
The
idea is outlandish. Starfleet would never approve. But Data has misjudged
humans before. Perhaps they would—if Data asked."Would you be my mentor?
Unofficially, of course. But someone I might call if I need counsel?"
"Only
if you call me Jim."
"Then
I will ask for a ship. And see what Starfleet says. And if they say no that
will be my first call to you. Jim."
Kirk
laughs. "They aren't going to say no. Even this far out of it, I still
know how things work."
Data
does not doubt that.
##
I'm
unpacking the robes and other goodies I bought when Seven comes in to our
quarters from meetings at Command that ran way too long.
"Did
you get food at least?"
"Yeah,
they brought in food from my friends' restaurant. I may have subtly suggested
that."
"Hey,
they shouldn't be known for just their safe house." I wink at her. That
feels so long ago even though it wasn't. Our first time.
"What's
this?" she asks.
"Close
your eyes."
She
doesn't. This is so not a shock.
"Baby,
please. Close your eyes. You get to be my dress-up doll for a half hour,
okay?"
"Get to be. You
mean have to be." But she sighs and asks, "Do you need me
naked?"
"Yes,
please." I love how helpful she is when the eye-rolling stops. She strips
off her clothes, moves closer to me, and closes her eyes.
I
take the robe I got her out of the package and wrap it around her. It's a wine
so dark it's almost brown and it looks perfect on her. "Okay. You can
look."
She
looks down. "Not the color I expected."
"You
thought I'd go with red or black?" At her nod, I laugh. "So
predictable."
She
walks over to the mirror. "This is gorgeous. And it's warmer than I
expected. I'm always cold in the one I have now."
"Silk
is great for that. Okay, come back."
She
rolls her eyes. "How many robes did you get?"
"Only
one other. For me—well, not just me." I hold up the navy blue one I got
for us during sex and pull it on.
She
laughs. "It's way too big on you."
"Yes,
yes it is. Come here."
She
walks over and goes into my arms and I wrap it around us as I kiss her. She
goes soft in my arms, and I love how she can do that, let go of everything and
be so fucking present. "Okay, I approve. But there are other
packages."
"Patience,
grasshopper."
"Tom
used to say that. From a show he watched."
"Tom
and I may have watched that show together." I really should have noticed
him videoing that meeting. Lame moment on my part.
"When?"
"That's
for me to know and you to find out. Maybe."
"There's
a whole side of you I think I don't know."
"You
are not wrong. Okay robe off, and close your eyes."
She
does what I say, and I toss the robe onto the bed and take out the first of the
negligees I bought. It's a teal so dark it's almost black. It has teeny straps
and I say, "Arms up."
She
does it, and I let the negligee slide down her curves.
"Open."
She
looks at me instead of the negligee and smiles. "Well, you clearly like
it." Then she reaches over, rubbing the part of me that likes it best.
"A lot."
"You're
a vision. Go look."
She
does and she takes her time, admiring the fit, I think. "This is
beautiful. And the color's perfect. Could I wear it as a dress?"
It's
just this side of sheer. Backlit, it would be sheer. "Hard no to
that."
She
cackles. "Yeah, somehow I knew that would be your answer." She comes
back and closes her eyes and puts up her arms as I pull the blue one off and
replace it with a dark brown one that is lace in all the right places.
She
walks to the mirror and glares at me. "They got where the lace goes
backwards."
"No,
no they did not."
"I
don't like it. You said to say if I didn't like a gift."
"The
robe was a gift to you. But if you think these naughty nighties are for you,
you are so, so wrong. And you can't veto my gift to myself."
She
laughs as she studies it. "Fine. I do love this color. Not what most would
think of as sexy."
"I
may have seen pics of you in your ranger outfit. I may want you to wear that
outfit for me sometime."
She
nods as if of course I do. I can tell she knows that won't be for a regular
interlude. Something a little more creative. "Will I get to arrest
you?"
"Oh,
yes."
"Manhandle
you?"
"If
there's a god."
Again
the cackle, and it makes me smile as wide as I can. "Okay last one. Come
back here. And if this one looks like I think, I'm going to be fucking you in
it."
"Oh
you think so, do you?"
"I
do." I lean in and kiss her as I ease the brown nightgown off her.
This
last one was a splurge. It's cut like a Grecian goddess dress. A one shoulder
golden-ivory silk with gold accents. I put it on her and forget how to breathe.
She
opens her eyes and studies me. "It must be all wrong. You never have
nothing to say."
"It's
not all wrong." My voice is serious, no teasing. I want her to see how
goddamn beautiful she is so I put my hand over her eyes before she can look
down and ease her over to the mirror. Then I let go.
She's
staring at herself and I know she sees it too. "Oh, Liam. Are you sure I
can't wear this one as a dress? It's so damn pretty." She turns to look at
the side pleats, then puts her back to the mirror and looks over her shoulder.
"I have never felt better in a dress."
"It's
not a dress."
"Then
have one made for me that looks like this. Then, and only then, can you do
whatever nefarious deeds you want to do to me in this one."
"That
seems more than fair." The company also does custom evening wear so it
won't be hard to get this made for her. "Now, my goddess..." I turn
her so she's staring into the mirror, into my eyes this time not at herself.
Her smile is gorgeous and open and so damn loving, and I feel every part of
myself settle down and settle in. I love this woman more than I can probably
ever properly express. "Let's play."
##
We
wait with Jarred for Jim to arrive at the docking area. He walks out, puts his
arm around Jarred, and seems to be giving him some kind of pep talk.
Then
Jarred hurries over to us and to our shock hugs us tightly. "Thank you for
everything. May I come back someday? If I need a break?"
"Of
course." We are confused. He was not supposed to leave until Jim did.
He
eases away and heads to the shuttle, which pulls out.
"He
did not take his things."
"He'll
replicate what he needs when he gets back to the Enterprise."
We
frown. "How will you leave?"
"I
made alternate arrangements." His smile is light, untroubled. These
arrangements must involve Samantha Alara. "Well, mission done, not sure we
accomplished anything."
"Hearts
and minds are not changed overnight. But Alara's defection was as impactful as
your and Picard's stories."
"Yeah,
she came through when it counted." His grin is fond. We can tell he thinks
highly of her.
We
ignore how much that hurts. "We have a surprise for you. A gift."
He
smiles. "Is that why you ordered me to court? I was about to set off to
cause trouble." He winks, as he always does when he speaks of things
royal. We have tried to explain it is queen of the hive, not of the realm, and
we know he understands it, but still, he jokes.
If
we were not losing him, we might be amused. We turn on our heel, saying
tersely, "Come."
He
hurries to catch up with us. "Not a dog, Ag."
No
one will call us by that name when he is gone. That is probably for the best.
"I've
got a gift for you too. It was by the water feature near the herb garden.
Smells different than the bush near the gazebo." He pulls it out of his
pocket. "Got a little crushed but it's the thought that counts,
right?"
We
smell the sprig of jasmine and close our eyes, lost in the lovely scent.
"Yes, this is it. Thank you."
"You're
welcome, Ag. And my present is..."
"This
way." We lead him to our chamber and stand aside once we cross the
threshold so he can see the crib, the infant inside.
"Oh,
Agnes. Is this...?"
We
nod.
"But
how?"
"The
guardians of the child crashed into a power station when the control panel of their
flitter went haywire." We see he understands we engineered that. "The
conflagration was localized but large. The bodies were burned beyond
recognition. We beamed out the child just before the crash and beamed in a
reasonable facsimile rich with your DNA."
"Not
a real child?"
"No.
But close enough if they run tests."
"So
this is...me? Like I'm me?"
"No.
He is too young for them to download the same memories you have into him. He
will grow and develop in this time, according to what he's taught and the
stimuli around him. He has all your traits, but he is his own person. Not James
T. Kirk perhaps but whatever you and Samantha choose to name him."
He
frowns at that but goes to the crib, smiling at the child, then picking him up
gingerly.
"He
will not break."
"I
know but I didn't expect this. How old is he?"
"Six
months but he came out of the vat the same time as you did."
He
looks so delighted, we know we did right.
"We
regret that we could not destroy the code. And they no doubt have back-ups of
it, even if we could. But this we could do for you."
"Thank
you." His smile is beautiful. We wonder if this child will also have this
same radiance or if life experience gave it to Jim. The ultimate test of nature
versus nurture.
It
would be interesting to observe. We doubt Samantha will allow that given her
antipathy toward all things Borg—we know her desire to meet us had nothing to
do with forgiveness of our origin.
We
find the sight of Jim with the infant painful and walk toward the view screen.
"Your speech to her, to keep her fighting for life, was almost more
rousing than the one you gave the crowd."
"Was
it?" He walks over and the infant—so used to us after days in our care—leans
toward us, gurgling in a way we find impossible to resist, holding his arms out
so we ease him away from Jim. "Or are you just a little jealous?"
"We
do not get a little jealous."
"No?"
He holds out his arms for the baby, but he stays with us, running his tiny
fingers over our face, seems fascinated by the darkest of the veins on our
cheeks. "Does that mean you're a lot jealous?"
We
thrust the baby at him, careful not to hurt the child, and say, "Take him
and leave. Your humor is not appreciated."
"That
wasn't humor." He carries the baby but back to his playpen, not out of our
chambers. The baby crawls to a rattle one of our people made him. "Six
months old and crawling already? Early milestone. I was still talking to Carol
when David was this old. He didn't crawl till he was eight months old."
We
are unsure why he is telling us this.
"I'm
not with Sam, Ag."
"No,
not at that moment."
He
strides toward us, and we force ourselves not to take a step back. "Not in
any way. I didn't have to seduce her. She wanted to help. We never slept
together."
We
are unsure what to say.
"So,
see, I was already on my way back when you said you wanted to see me."
"You
did not stay on Earth long."
He
laughs. "I never do. Give me this view any day over what Earth—or any
planet—offers." He takes us by the arm. "Were you jealous?"
"We
knew why you would do what you would do with her. And she is beautiful."
"There
are all kinds of beauty. Antonia looked a lot like her. The Nexus gave me her
because by the time we ended she bored the crap out of me, and that was how it
needed me. Calm. Nearly emotionally comatose."
"Your
point?"
"I'm
not into politicians or women with so little experience. I like scientists. I
like a partner I can talk to after sex. That's the best part, when the barriers
are down. When it's just the two of us." He moves closer. "Or do you
not like sex?"
"Both
of us do."
"We
really need to work on that duality thing, Ag."
We
would argue with him but he is kissing us, and it has been four hundred years
since we have kissed anyone anywhere but on the forehead.
He
eases away, and his grin is amazing. "Well, well, the lady doth know how
to kiss."
We
laugh because the gentleman also knows how.
"I
frankly can't wait to see what else you know how to do."
We
whisper one of the things we enjoyed as both Agnes and the Queen.
"That
is exactly what I'm talking about. So, you want to raise a baby together, Ag? I
wonder what I could be like if I was raised to make a difference the way the
collective does. This baby will be remarkable, I bet, and I can be some kind of
ambassador for you if you want." He frowns. "No assimilation though.
For either of us."
"We
know that, Jim."
"You
haven't said yes."
"You
haven't stopped talking."
He
laughs. "Got me there. I'm just...excited to see you."
"We
may be excited to see you. And we are very fond of this infant."
"And
it's not lost on me that he adores you. Not unlike how Miller does. Or
me."
We
are not sure what to say. We had no plan for this eventuality. His future with
Samantha Alara seemed so clear.
"This
is the part where you say you adore me too." He's grinning again, and the
grin draws us in now that he is not leaving, now that he is holding us so
gently, his fingers running lightly over our skin.
"We...care
for you."
"Weak.
So weak. But you're out of practice—I do get that." He kisses us quickly
then picks the child up. "What shall we call him?"
"Jamie."
It is what we have been calling the infant when it is just the two of us.
He
smiles. "I like that. He's going to look just like me so naming him after
me makes sense. Let's not burden Jamie with Tiberius as a middle name though.
How about Jurati? James Jurati Kirk? When we need an alternate nickname, we can
call him J.J."
We
know our smile is too wide, too happy, too much.
He
does not seem to agree, appears instead to approve. "I'll take that as a
yes."
FIN