Melora gaped at him in disbelief. Then she shook her head and laughed. “You have a deal, Commander.” She rose and stood at attention. “No attempts at humor.”
Tuvok realized he was in for quite a challenge.
“May I join you, Christine?”
Vale looked up at Jaza’s voice, surprised to see him in the mess hall. “Najem, hi. Uhh, sure. I thought you were down on the planet.”
“I was, but there was some equipment I needed, so I thought I’d come up and grab some lunch before gathering it.”
“Ah, okay.” She let him eat in silence for a few moments, then spoke. “Najem, I need to ask you something.”
“Sure, anything.”
“You know how you’ve been this really good friend to me the past few weeks?”
He stopped eating. “I, um, I’ve tried,” he said modestly.
“Yeah, about that, though. Has it really been about being a friend to me? Or has it been about keeping yourself available to me and being really good to me in the hopes that I’d fall for you? Sort of a no-pressure romancing?”
It was a moment before he responded. “Actually it’s both. Is that a problem? I mean, there is no pressure, you’re right about that. And I’d sort of gotten the impression lately that maybe you might be open to…changing your mind about us.”
“Well…I was.”
He studied her. “Was. As in, not anymore.”
“Yeah.”
“May I ask what I did to change things?”
“Nothing. Pardon the cliché, but it’s me, not you.” She took a deep breath. “When the Pa’haquel had Deanna captive…Will was ready to sacrifice her for the greater good. I could see it was tearing him up inside. But he was able to make that choice. Thank God he didn’t have to, but he was able to.
“And when I saw that, I realized…I don’t think I could make that choice about someone I…someone I loved.” She smirked. “In a weird way, it bothers me to realize that. The woman who inspired me to join Starfleet in the first place…when we met, she actually killed her own lover to stop him from killing me. I’ve always tried to live up to her example, and it’s a bit disturbing to admit I can’t in that regard. But at the time, really, I guess I thought more about her bravery than about what she had to sacrifice. I didn’t know her as well as I know Will and Deanna, didn’t know her lover as anything but a suspect. So I didn’t feel it the way I did with Will. Now that I have…I just don’t feel ready to put myself in a position where I might have to make that kind of choice.
“So I really need to not be in a relationship right now, Najem. I need to focus on my Starfleet duties, and not have to deal with complications like that. Maybe someday, when I’ve matured more as an officer, as a woman, I’ll be ready. But not now. Okay?”
He placed his hand atop hers. “Okay. I understand. But I want you to know…whatever ulterior motives I may have had, the friendship is genuine. And it’s there for you if you need it.”
She placed her other hand atop his. “Thank you. I appreciate it. And we’ll see how it goes. For now, though…for now you should get back down to the planet. Back to work.”
He nodded solemnly, and removed his hand from between hers. They sat in silence for a moment, accepting closure.
But then he looked up. “Um, can I finish my lunch first?”
It was good to be the captain’s wife.
Will and Deanna had discovered a perfect, idyllic nook tucked away between the body of a sessile young jelly and the shore of the thermal lake in which it sat. Will had exercised his authority to command everyone else to stay well away from the lake so they could have it all to themselves. Yet once she’d started to take advantage of their solitude and unfasten his uniform, he’d suddenly realized that the star-jelly itself would be a spectator. He’d hesitated for a moment, babbling something about contributing to the delinquency of a minor. She’d reminded him that this “minor” was nearly two hundred years old and shared the collective knowledge of its entire species. “Oh, great,” Will had said. “You mean I have the whole species as an audience?”
“Don’t worry,” she’d purred. “Their perceptions of it will be filtered through me, so I know they’ll be suitably impressed.” She’d gone on to offer several less verbal and more persuasive arguments, and soon he’d gotten back into the spirit of the moment.
Now they were basking together in the afterglow, leaning against the firm, soft surface of one of the jelly’s supporting ribs, resting their weight on a shelf it had materialized a little below the waterline for their benefit. “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” Will said after a while.
“I know,” she said. He threw her a look of mild, amused annoyance before growing serious again.
“When you were in sickbay…merged with the jellies…”
“Yes?”
“When you asked why we hadn’t had a child yet…was that the jellies speaking, or you?”
She didn’t reply right away. She stood up out of the water, stretched, shook out her hair and leaned against the slope of the support rib. His admiration of the sight was palpable, but she could sense that it hadn’t diverted him from the question. She hadn’t really meant it to, but she’d needed a moment to build up her courage.
“It was both, I suppose.”
“We haven’t really talked about it much.” He had to pause for a moment himself, but then he came out and asked it. “Do you want to have a baby?”
She smiled. “It wasn’t something I’d really thought about…not consciously, anyway. I didn’t even realize it had been on my mind until the jellies found it there. I think it started when I was first reaching out to try to contact them. My mind brushed across everyone in the crew…even little Totyarguil.” She knelt by Will, took his hand. “The way his mind felt, Will…it had such purity, such perfect innocence. There’s nothing quite like it. To feel a, a soul like that inside me, to know it came from a part of me…and a part of you…it would be more amazing than anything I’ve ever experienced.”
Will thought about it. “That purity…it never lasts, though, does it?”
“No,” she admitted. “But it’s a good place to start from. A lot of it can be kept, cultivated, nurtured. And sometimes…even some of what’s been lost can be gotten back.”
“So are you saying you’re ready for that challenge?”
“After all I’ve done, all I’ve learned in my life, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. And who knows if it’ll last, Will? How many times have we almost lost each other? How many times before we even got around to admitting what we had? We’ve waited long enough as it is.”
She could tell the prospect excited him, moved him. But still he hesitated, and of course she knew why. “Would it even be appropriate?” he asked. “Starfleet had enough trouble with a captain and his wife serving on the same crew. How great a conflict of interest could there be if my own child were on board?”
“I don’t see any conflict. Your job as captain is to protect your ship, your crew.”
“But if I kept worrying about my baby, let it keep me from making a sacrifice I had to make…”
“How is it any different if it’s the Bolajis’ baby, or Alyssa’s son?” She held his gaze significantly. “How is it any different from being willing to sacrifice me? We’ve both proven ourselves willing to make such hard choices.”
He said nothing for a while, frowning. She offered another thought. “For the Pa’haquel, this is the way it’s always been. Their ships are their homes, their families. They constantly put their children and loved ones in harm’s way. And they accept it.”
“Because they had to. Because they led a harsh life.”
“Come look at the ruins of my mother’s house on Betazed and tell me there’s any life that doesn’t pose the same risks. What matters is to do what good you can while you have the chance. True, it could be taken from you, negated at any time. But it might not. And if you don’t even try because you’re afraid it won’t last…”<
br />
“Right. I understand.”
She studied him. “Will…you haven’t said if you want a baby.”
“Can’t you tell?”
“Not the point. Will, do you want to have a baby? I’m not asking you to commit to trying, I just want to know what you feel about it.”
After a moment, he softened, smiled. “Deanna Troi…nothing in this universe would make me happier or prouder than to be the father of your child. Or children.”
She snuggled up against him again, kissed him softly. “Thank you.” Then they kissed again, for a much longer time. “So is that a yes?”
He pursed his lips. “Call it an agreement in principle. There are still a lot of things we need to decide—and there are definitely people we should talk to.”
It was a long time before Christine Vale responded. “I think…I’d be okay with that.”
Riker was surprised. “It wouldn’t bother you? A captain having to deal with being a father as well?”
She studied him. “I think you’ve proven that you can balance those responsibilities. To be honest, you do it better than I could. I know that now. Yeah, there probably were some personal motives behind your decisions with the star-jellies. But you and Deanna didn’t let those motives get in the way, and they meshed pretty well with the practical objectives of the situation. And all in all, your rapport with her made you a pretty effective team. You managed to resolve an ancient conflict and bring new hope to a whole region of the galaxy. And…I’d say that the Federation’s ideals were upheld pretty damn well.” He gave her a look of gratitude.
She smirked. “Of course, being a father can be a full-time job. I wouldn’t even think of letting you do it if you didn’t have a really amazing first officer to pick up the slack.”
Riker smiled back. “I do, don’t I? In more ways than one, Christine. Thanks.”
He led her out of the ready room and back to the bridge. “Of course we aren’t going to jump into it right away. There’s still a lot to work out.”
“Sure, I understand.”
“Right now, we have a mission to get back to,” he went on, pitching his voice for the bridge at large. “We’ve still got a lot of Bubblegum to chew.” He ignored the groans that ensued. “Ensign Lavena, prepare to break orbit.”
“Aye, sir. Course?”
Vale exchanged a look with him. “You know, after this marathon run to the Vela Association, we’re a lot farther out from the Federation than we were scheduled to be by now. Should we go back, pick up charting where we left off?”
Riker thought it over as he took his seat. He traded a look with Deanna, who smiled. “No,” he said. “We go forward. Always forward.”
THE VOYAGES OF THE
STARSHIP TITAN
WILL CONTINUE
About the Author
At the age of five and a half, Christopher L. Bennett saw his first episode of Star Trek, believing it to be a show about a strange airplane that only flew at night. As he continued watching, he discovered what those points of light in the sky really were. This awakened a lifelong fascination with space, science, and speculative fiction. By age twelve he was making up Trek-universe stories set a century after Kirk’s adventures (an idea years ahead of its time), but soon shifted to creating his own original universe. He eventually decided this was what he wanted to do for a career. Meanwhile, Christopher made two separate passes through the University of Cincinnati, thereby putting off real life as long as possible, and earned a B.S. in physics and a B.A. with High Honors in history in the process.
Christopher’s published works include “Aggravated Vehicular Genocide” in the November 1998 Analog; “Among the Wild Cybers of Cybele” in the December 2000 Analog; Star Trek: S.C.E. #29—Aftermath; “…Loved I Not Honor More” in the Star Trek: Deep Space Nine: Prophecy and Change anthology; his first novel, Star Trek: Ex Machina; and “Brief Candle” in the Star Trek: Voyager—Distant Shores anthology. More information and cat pictures can be found at http://home.fuse.net/ChristopherLBennett/.
The author is not the same Christopher Bennett whose father is Star Trek movie producer Harve Bennett, though he is apparently a cousin of paleontologist Chris Bennett. You can see why he uses the “L.”
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