Chapter Text
Cecilia awoke from another restless night, Juno lying next to her. She sighed, relieved, but also still not content. She had been having more frequent dreams about her mother, not all of them good. Cecilia sat up in bed.
“Brand new day, right Juno?” she asked her dog neutrally. If not neutral, then worn. Juno made a sound, presumably in agreement. Somewhat reluctantly, Cecilia got up from her bed, and got herself ready for the day that loomed ahead of her.
Although Cecilia was wearing one of the outfits she felt most comfortable in, she didn’t feel comfortable with herself this day. She had inherited her slightly telepathic ability from her mother, but it wasn’t always her favorite trait. She was more subject to dreams and visions, which weren’t typically welcome. Cecilia walked downstairs with Juno, heading for the vineyard. Every morning she met with her mother’s former captain, walking with him and his dog, No. 1, among the vineyard he owned. They would talk about whatever subject would come up, ranging from dreams of the night before, to old memories that had been previously forgotten. This day, however, Cecilia was running late for their walk. She knew that Picard would start on without her, so she was in a little bit of a rush. The sunlight hit her face the moment she exited the door; a sensation she loved, even though she had grown so accustomed to it. Juno immediately ran ahead, straight to No. 1. The two dogs loved each other, which was a very good thing. Cecilia walked quickly, but didn’t run, to catch up to Picard. The dogs were playing with each other by the time Cecilia was caught up.
“Good morning, Captain,” she greeted, a hint of weariness slipping into her tone. She only knew Picard as “Captain”, due to her mother. PIcard did have other titles---Jean-Luc, Admiral, Captain, and others---but Captain was the one Cecilia, like her mother, latched on to.
“Good morning, Cecilia,” Picard returned the greeting.
“How was your sleep last night?” she asked.
“Alright.”
“That’s good.” Truthfully, Cecilia felt incredibly awkward. She wanted to tell Picard everything about her dreams of her mother, but she found herself becoming more and more withdrawn from discussing such personal matters with him. Jean-Luc, however, didn’t find anything to be wrong with Cecilia, yet. He was always grateful for her company. Cecilia was very much like her mother, and Picard greatly missed that company. He recently noticed, however, that Cecilia was becoming more like Vanessa in a specific aspect that he wasn’t comfortable with, and he didn’t want Cecilia inheriting it.
“How was your night?” he asked her. Cecilia shrugged in response, her hands in the front pockets of her jeans. Picard caught on immediately, but didn’t want to approach the matter the same way he would Vanessa. “Is something bothering you?” he asked gently. Cecilia shrugged again.
“I’m not really sure,” she answered. Truthfully, Cecilia didn’t know how she felt. She wasn’t sure if these dreams were necessarily bothering her, but they weren’t exactly pleasant either. Taking Cecilia’s hesitance as a negative sign, Picard withdrew a little.
“Well, I made breakfast this morning.” That comment got a snicker from Cecilia.
“You?” she questioned, a jokingly sarcastic tone filling her voice.
“Yes.” She laughed a little, but Picard was internally thankful that Cecilia was still smiling. She was fragile, but neither of them knew how fragile.
“What?”
“I don’t think you’ve made anything since Laris has been here.”
“Yes, I have.”
“I’ll rephrase, you haven’t made anything relating to the three meals of the day since Laris got here.”
“Well, what do you expect from an old man?” Cecilia snickered again. Yes, she was aware that Picard was much older than her, but she never viewed him necessarily as an “old man”. The conversation went quiet, which hadn’t happened in awhile during their morning walks. Cecilia seemed hesitant, which wasn’t exactly normal for her. Picard was taking it as a bad sign. “Cecilia, what’s wrong?” he finally asked, figuring he’d get an answer her mother was most likely to respond with.
“Do you ever have those dreams where you’re not sure if they matter or not, but they don’t fell right either?”
“All the time,” Jean-Luc replied. He was grateful that she didn’t try to deny that something was wrong. Her mother did that all the time, and it drove him insane. He wanted Cecilia to be able to talk to him.
“I’ve been getting bad dreams about….my mom,” Cecilia admitted. Talking about Vanessa was a very sensitive subject for both of them.
“Your mother?” Cecilia nodded in reply.
“It’s kind of rare that I dream of her.”
“Really?” Cecilia nodded, but then went quiet. She wasn’t really sure why she was telling Picard about her unwelcome dreams. She was trying to figure out a way to retreat, which was something Picard was currently trying to prevent. He wanted her to keep talking, tell him what was wrong, feel comfortable around him. Vanessa took years to develop that trust, and even then it had some limits. Picard didn’t want that for Cecilia. It took its toll on a person; one that was almost irreversible. Cecilia shrugged.
“It’s whatever. It’s nothing,” she said, in an attempt to backtrack. Picard thought for a minute, thinking about how he would’ve responded to Vanessa. He had to do the opposite.
“What was the dream about?” he asked her.
“Just me in a dark space and it’s cold. I keep hearing my mom yelling my name and I can’t find her, but it sounds like she’s in trouble.” Cecilia spoke quickly, silently and unconsciously signaling that these dreams were bothering her.
“Do you know why?” Cecilia shook her head.
“It’s probably just nothing,” she began to retreat again.
“Everything has meaning, Cecilia.” She went quiet for a minute.
“I don’t know.”
“Think,” Picard pushed a little. Cecilia was beginning to feel more uncomfortable. She didn’t want to talk in detail about it anymore.
“I mean, the obvious meaning would be that my mom’s in trouble, but I don’t---it doesn’t really feel like it. It’s not so much her sensation of panic, it’s more….” Cecilia’s voice trailed off, and she ended her statement with a shrug.
“What?”
“I guess I’m more the one who feels the panic, compared to my mom.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. I guess just because I can’t find my mom and I’m alone in the dark and it’s-it’s cold.”
“What else?” Picard was really pushing his limit with Cecilia’s comfort, and Cecilia felt that he should have known better.
“That’s about it.”
“No, it’s not.”
“Yes, it is. It’s just me being afraid and isolated in the dark, scared about my mom.”
“Why are you scared for her when you believe she doesn’t even love you?”
“I mean, she’s still my mom, you know?” Cecilia answered, trying to cover up the hurt she felt from that comment.
“But after everything, why?”
“I don’t know. I can’t explain it. I don’t know what it means. It just keeps happening.”
“Why?” he continued to push his limits.
“I don’t know, okay?” she finally snapped. Picard had overestimated his current power to pull out emotions from Cecilia.
“Then you’re just like your mother,” he snapped back, not thinking or catching himself. Cecilia went quiet. His statements were beginning to hurt her. He didn’t mean to and she knew that, but it still hurt her a little. It stung.
“Sorry,” she muttered. Picard instantly realized his mistake.
“No, no, I’m sorry.”
“I shouldn’t have brought the dreams up,” Cecilia tried to dismiss. She didn’t want to cause him more trouble or restart the discussion.
“No, I’m sorry.” Cecilia felt the awkwardness spreading through her.
“I shouldn’t have brought up my mom, it’s okay,” she answered.
“You should bring up your mother more often. It’s better to talk about her than not.” Cecilia nodded in response. Her confidence was no longer completely diminished, just a little cracked. She always took Picard’s advice to heart, just like Vanessa. The two approached the back patio, where two Romulan siblings were waiting for them. The brother’s name was Zhaban, and the sister’s name was Laris. The retired Admiral had given them a sanctuary, and in return they helped him with the vineyard and around the château. The dogs ran ahead, tumbling over each other to get to the three-seasons room. Juno ran straight into the door, then tripping on his paws into the room. Cecilia couldn’t help but laugh. Her German Shepard had been so clumsy since he was a puppy and nothing had changed in the slightest.
“Juno, that’s a door,” Zhaban commented.
“Our big goofball,” Laris added with a chuckle. All of them were smiling. Juno was a hundred-twenty-pound clumsy ball of fluff that shedded constantly, but all he wanted was to love and be loved.
“He may be a goofball, but he’s also a living blanket,” Cecilia replied.
“Laris heard you talking in your sleep last night,” Zhaban said to Picard.
“Oh? Did I say anything interesting?” the Admiral asked. Cecilia felt a little uncomfortable, wondering if she ever talked in her sleep. Her mother only talked in her sleep when she was under a heavy sedative or anesthetic. That was another story, though. Cecilia’s fear was that she inherited the same characteristic.
“No, it was gibberish,” Laris responded. “But you’re not sleeping.” Cecilia, Laris and Picard had all taken seats around the patio table. “Bad dreams?” Cecilia looked to Picard, curious of what his answer would be.
“The dreams are lovely. It’s the waking up that I’m beginning to resent.” The young adult pursed her lips a little, unsure of how to take the statement.
“Well, today’s a big day, so maybe we shouldn’t focus on any sadness….?” Cecilia suggested, her tone stripped of assurance for herself.
“Yes, Cecilia’s right,” Laris, for once, agreed. The young adult Vulcan and the Romulan housekeeper rarely agreed on anything.
“I’m beginning to regret being talked into this,” Picard answered with a sigh, beginning to walk towards the house.
“You go get ready. Cecilia, that means you too.” Cecilia slightly rolled her eyes.
“There’s two hours, I have time.”
“Go on.” Cecilia followed the Admiral inside the house, even though she mentally decided that she wasn’t going to get ready right away.
Zhaban fed both dogs while Cecilia used the mixer to make fruit smoothies.
“Remember Juno’s vitamins,” she reminded. Juno took two vitamins every morning; one for his joints and the other for general health. She reminded Zhaban every morning he fed the dogs, or whoever fed the dogs, including herself.
“I remember.” Cecilia heard the dogs starting to eat, as she took the smoothie pitcher off the mixer. She started to pour it into two glasses, as Picard entered the room. He went straight for the replicator.
“Tea. Earl Grey. Decaf,” he ordered.
“Are we all ready?” Zhaban asked, taking one of the glasses. Cecilia stuck a blue straw in hers, which was simply her style.
“Are you doing an interview as well, Zhaban?” Picard asked sarcastically. “You know sometimes you talk to me as if I were an old codger.” Cecilia snickered, getting a look from both of them.
“I’d say somewhere on the slightly more insane side,” she commented.
“The first interviewer has just arrived,” Laris announced, as she entered the room. “Go and get ready. Cecilia, that means you too, in case they catch sight of you.” Being the daughter of a very controversial former Starfleet Commander and an extremely gifted former Engineering Ensign, Cecilia had a lot of people that desired to know more about her and her life with her parents. Taking the smoothie with her, she quickly followed Picard out of the room, Juno right at her heels behind her.
Today was the first day in a long time that Cecilia was wearing a dress. It was sleeveless, held together by a knot tied with the two strings of the dress. It was a dark green and was just long enough that she could wear a pair of skin tight shorts underneath. Her hair was curled and held up with tiny little pins that looked like small sparkly pearls. It was, what one could be considered as, a special day. It was the first time Picard agreed to a news interview. Cecilia wasn’t completely sure why he finally agreed, but she personally took it as maybe a hopeful sign. Cecilia headed downstairs, Juno at her heels, and saw Picard standing in front of the mirror that hung in the hallway. She smiled a little, seeing that he was trying to fix his tie. The tie was something Picard was always a little insecure about, mostly because he had such difficulty with it, despite having been taught so many times.
“Need any help?” she asked from the staircase. Picard looked up in the mirror, so that he didn’t have to turn around, as Cecilia approached him.
“No,” he replied. He received a dose of what one could call karma in response, as his tie came undone again. Cecilia was smiling a little at the timing. “Still, no.”
“Yes, you do, let me help.” It annoyed Picard just a little that he had to ask for help from a young adult, but a small part of him was always a little grateful for it. Cecilia, on the other hand, had practiced constantly, at one point in her life, due to Starfleet regulations. She gently began to fix Picard’s tie. “Nervous?” she asked as she worked.
“I wouldn’t call it that,” he answered.
“Excited?”
“I’m not sure.” Cecilia pulled on the tie a little.
“Too tight?”
“No, that’s good, thank you.” She smiled in response.
“I’d be a little nervous too, if I were you,” she told him.
“I told you, I’m not nervous.” Cecilia knew that that wasn’t true; her empathic ability was telling her the truth. He was nervous, but a little excited at the same time. She completely understood why.
“You’ll be fine. You’re a great speaker and you already know which questions they’re not going to ask.”
“Your mother would’ve adored something like this, as long as she was with someone. These types of things interested her.”
“Oh really? My dad always said she hated things like this, particularly diplomatic meetings.”
“Well….yes, she did.”
“She probably only liked the fact that she was able to dress up for it and everything.” Cecilia grinned, and Picard instantly thought that she looked exactly like her mother, just with green eyes.
“Yes.”
“Well, I kind of agree with her.”
“Both of you look very nice,” Laris told them, as the two Romulan siblings walked over to the Vulcan and the Admiral.
“You went over the terms with them?” Picard asked.
“Three times,” Cecilia replied before anyone else could answer.
“She told us that she won’t ask about your resignation from Starfleet,” Zhaban reassured.
“Sometimes I worry you’ve forgotten what you did,” Laris said, catching Picard’s attention. “And who you are. We have not. Be the Captain they remember.” Cecilia felt a bit of guilt, knowing that she hadn’t really said anything that was so encouraging. She felt she should have.
The Vulcan, although she would never admit it, was nervous. She was most likely going to end up with some type of interview, as well. She hated the idea of it. Her foot kept tapping against the leg of the barstool she was sitting on. She, Zhaban and Laris were all going to be watching the interview from the kitchen, down the hall from Picard’s study, where the interview was taking place.
“Don’t be so nervous,” Laris told her.
“I just have a bad feeling about it.” Cecilia was partially empathic and telepathic, abilities she inherited from her mom. Now, those feelings could’ve been influenced by her nervousness, but it wasn’t something to be ignored. The screen started to play the interview.
“While Captain of Starfleet’s Flagship Enterprise, he was praised as one of the galaxy’s most heroic explorers, knowledgeable diplomat, military strategist, author and humanitarian. He had published many widespread works of historical analysis. He joins us on the very anniversary of the Romulan supernova to discuss the role he took on within those tragic occurrences. I have the rare honor of introducing Admiral Jean-Luc Picard,” the interview began. It was a nice intro, but Cecilia found herself tapping her foot faster. Juno sat by her side, his head resting on her knee.
“Retired,” Picard added.
“You’ve never agreed to participate in an interview before, so I personally thank you for inviting all of us across the galaxy into your lovely study.
“Well, less crowded than I thought.”
“Today is a….somber day.”
“A day of memories. Raising awareness of the supernova’s continuing unfortunate impact is the work I am passionate to promote.”
“Yes, let’s delve into that. When you first gained the information that the Romulan sun was going to explode, as well as the dreadful consequences that it would bring, what feelings did you experience?”
“Well, there are no words that could possibly describe the catastrophic scale of that massive change. Which is one of-”
“You can’t tell us how you felt,” the interviewer interrupted, “but your first actions were to call for a large-scale relocation of Romulans?”
“The Romulans asked for our help, and I believed that we had a penetrating obligation to provide it.”
“Many felt there were better obligations to use our resources.” Cecilia could feel herself getting more nervous, resting both elbows on the counter. She didn’t like talking or hearing about that day. She still remembered it. She remembered her mom’s reaction to it. It wasn’t good. “Instead of helping the Federation’s lasting enemy.”
“Fortunately, the Federation chose to support and supply the rescue effort.”
“Yes. Initially.”
“Shit,” Cecilia muttered. She knew quickly where all of this was going. Zhaban put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to help her calm down. Although she was grateful to know he cared, it didn’t help much.
“I have been known to be persuasive,” Picard answered. There was a slight hesitancy in his voice. “The Federation understood how many millions of lives were at stake.”
“Romulan lives.”
“No, lives ,” Cecilia and Picard concluded in unison, even though they weren’t in the same room. That was the one thing her mother made sure was seared into Cecilia’s head: All lives mattered . It didn’t matter who or what they were. They were still living beings.
“You left the Enterprise to command the rescue operation. Ten thousand warp-capable carriers. A mission to relocate over 900 million, nearly a billion, Romulan citizens.” Cecilia could tell Picard was getting nervous. Her ability gave her insight, but she instantly noticed that he was subtly beginning to wring his hands. Her feeling was getting worse. “Relocating them to worlds outside the blast range of the supernova. A logistical plan more ambitious than the pyramids.”
“The pyramids were a symbol of extreme vanity. A historical comparison would be….Dunkirk.” Cecilia immediately understood the reference, having studied history with Picard as her tutor. The interviewer had a mostly blank expression, but was nodding anyway. She didn’t know what Dunkirk was. That very much annoyed Cecilia.
“Dunkirk,” she repeated.
“Yes.”
“And then the unthinkable happened. Could you tell us about that?” There was a pause, which made both Cecilia and Picard uncomfortable. The Romulan siblings knew the Vulcan was worried and nervous, but there wasn’t much they could do at that moment. They all knew, though, what the interviewer was alluding to. Picard looked extremely uneasy. “Admiral?”
“I thought we were here to discuss the supernova,” he answered, somewhat impatiently.
“A group of rogue synthetics took down the planetary defense system and hacked Mars’s defense network.” The Vulcan hated hearing that. She remembered that day all too clearly. She had been at home with her mom. She was six years old. It was the only time she had seen her mom afraid.
“Yes,” Picard reluctantly answered.
“It took out the rescue team and completely destroyed the Utopia Planitia Shipyard. The explosions sparked the flammable vapors of the stratosphere. Mars remains on fire to this day. 91, 243 lives were lost, which led to a ban on synthetics.” Picard looked even more uneasy and very restless.
“She can’t do this,” Cecilia said out loud. No one answered her.
“Yes,” Picard answered again. “We still don’t know why the synthetics went rogue, or why they did what they did that day, but I believed that the decision to ban synthetic life forms was a mistake.” There was another pause.
“Lieutenant Commander Data, operations officer on the Enterprise, was synthetic. Did you ever lose faith in him?” Cecilia felt internally outraged. Vanessa had raised her with the knowledge of Data being Cecilia and her brother’s uncle, their family member. The interviewer had no right to even attempt to drag his name through the mud.
“Never,” Picard told her.
“What was it that you lost faith in, Admiral? You never spoke of your departure from Starfleet.”
“She can’t do that,” Cecilia spoke aloud again. “She had promised us she wouldn’t. We had a deal.” Laris raised a hand to temporarily silence Cecilia. Everyone was waiting for Picard’s answer.
“Didn’t you resign your position in protest?” the interviewer continued. “Why did you really quit Starfleet?” Picard looked like he was growing angry; it was obvious from his body language. The questioning bothered him as much as it did the young Vulcan down the hall.
“Because it was no longer Starfleet,” he whispered.
“I’m sorry?”
“Because it was no longer Starfleet!” the Admiral spoke in a loud tone that even made Cecilia flinch. “We withdrew. The galaxy was mourning and burying its dead and Starfleet hid from its duties! The decision to call off the rescue and to abandon all those people we had sworn to save was not just dishonorable, it was criminal!” Cecilia covered her mouth, just in shock. She had never seen Picard stand up verbally against someone like that. “I was not prepared to stand by and simply watch. And you have no idea what Dunkirk is, right? You’re a stranger to history and war. You just wave your hand and everything goes away. It’s not so easy for those who died, those who were left behind. And now we’re done here.” Picard stood up and left the room. Cecilia instantly stood up from her seat, heading quickly towards the other end of the hall.
“Cecilia!” Laris called, but it didn’t stop the Vulcan. She met Picard halfway through the hall.
“You say to them whatever you want,” he snapped, but it wasn’t directed at her. She knew he was furious. “But you do one thing, young Vulcan, so listen closely.” Young Vulcan. It was a name that she had only heard from her mother and her grandfather. Picard knew it was serious to her. “You stand up for what you believe in, and you defend everything your mother taught you.”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, heading straight for his study. She opened the door, causing the cameramen and interviewer to look at her. “Get out,” she demanded.
“And I see we are joined here by Cecilia Williams, the daughter of former Commander and current Starfleet professor Vanessa Kassidy Williams. May we ask a few questions before we leave?” Cecilia thought for a few seconds, but made her decision without any doubt towards herself.
“Three questions and then you’re gone, because you’ve rather upset the residents of this household after promising to stay on a certain line of questioning, but instead you have broken that promise and crossed a line.”
“Of course, thank you.” Cecilia took Picard’s seat, which she found to be internally uncomfortable. “Now, we can see that you are obviously upset by our questioning, but-”
“Three questions,” Cecilia cut her off, “and then you’re gone.” The interviewer nodded a little, realizing that even though Cecilia was young, she wouldn’t be intimidated. Ceclia’s rage was the only thing that was giving her confidence. She could hear Picard’s voice in her head: You defend everything your mother taught you .
“Our first question. You live here with Admiral Picard. What’s the relationship between the two of you?” Cecilia narrowed her eyes, knowing what the interviewer was hinting towards.
“He was my mother’s captain and she looked up to him as a mentor. That is exactly what he has become to me and he is considered as a part of our family.”
“Any more details on that?”
“Either that’s your second question or I suggest you move on.” Knowing she would never get another chance like this, the interviewer chose to move on.
“Records show that you were a cadet of Starfleet Academy, but you apparently dropped out. What was the situation that caused you to do this?” Cecilia was becoming more and more annoyed, knowing that topic was going to come up. She was the “disappointment child”, and that was the reason why.
“Because Starfleet doesn’t like to review its security cameras and also doesn’t like to hear about harassment charges. No details. Ask Starfleet instead.” Ceclia managed to say everything with a straight face and a consistent tone. There was no fear in her voice. Picard, although still furious, watched from the screen where Cecilia had watched him. The interviewer seemed to be really thinking for her last question.
“What are your thoughts on the synthetic attack, and the Romulan relocation? The Admiral’s resignation?”
“I was six years old when the synthetic attack occurred. And even though my mother was scared that day, she made one thing very clear: All lives matter . No matter who they are, no matter what they are, we have an obligation to preserve and protect the life that walks this universe. For Starfleet to deny these people of their chance of life and to prosper, it is unforgivable. It is immoral and purely a crime. It’s murder. The only problem is that no one called them out on it until that day. And now they’re being called out again. If my parents are watching this, then there’s something I want them to know. Mom and Dad, you did a damn good job raising me the way you did because you taught me to stand up for my beliefs, and that’s what I’m going to do and keep doing and I love you guys. Now for the rest of you, “Cecilia stood up, “pack it up. Cameras down, tech away, shut it down and get out.” Cecilia walked away, slamming the door to the study as hard as she could behind her.
Things had passed and calmed down, with both owners and their dogs sitting at a table in a back area, which oversaw the vineyard. Juno was sitting on Cecilia’s lap, while No. 1 sat on the ground. Both were quiet.
“There’s no legacy as rich as honesty,” Picard broke the silence, causing Cecilia to look up. He slightly chuckled. “Who said that?”
“William Shakespeare,” Cecilia answered quietly. Both dogs, at that moment, perked up. Juno leaped off of Cecilia’s lap, following No. 1. Picard and Cecilia stood up, watching the dogs as they approached a hooded figure. The dogs were barking, but also wagging their tails. “Who’s that?” Cecilia asked. The dogs had stopped barking and were happily circling the hooded figure that was staring at them.
“What do you want here?” Picard questioned the figure.
“I saw your interviews,” they replied. The figure had a feminine voice. “Do you know me?”
“What?”
“Do you know me?”
“No.” Picard and the female started to approach each other. Cecilia, feeling extremely hesitant, stayed back for a minute, and then began to follow.
“Look at me.” She flipped her hood back. Cecilia instantly thought that she was seeing the definition of beauty. The girl had perfect fair skin and black shoulder-length hair that stood out against it. Her eyes were green, the same color as Cecilia’s. Picard just stared at her, mentally trying to decipher if he knew her. Cecilia just kept thinking about how beautiful this girl was. “You’re not sure,” the girl stated. “You’re not sure.” Something was wrong with her. She seemed almost….scared. Terrified. “How do I know that?”
“Who are you?” Picard asked, unsure what to think.
“I was with my boyfriend,” the girl began to explain. “We were in my apartment and they put a bag over my head and I couldn’t see anything.” She sounded like she was about to cry.
“Who are ‘they’?”
“I don’t know, but my boyfriend….they murdered him.” The girl was starting to have tears run down her face. Cecilia didn’t know what to think. “Then I killed them. All of them. Something inside me just knew what to do, how to move and how to fight. And somehow, it was like lightning and I took the bag off. There was so much blood, so I just ran. I didn’t know where to go.”
“Shh, shh, please, try to just calm down,” Picard told her. Cecilia had the same empathic ability that her mother had and was easily using it. She knew everything that the girl in front of her was feeling. Picard took the girl’s hands in his. “Try to calm down, okay?” Her hands were shaking.
“In my mind, I kept seeing you,” she told him. “I kept seeing your face.”
“Me?”
“Yes. I came because the same lightning that saved me led me here.”
“Why?”
“Because everything inside of me says that I’m safe with you.”
Laris was working on patching up the cut on the girl’s forehead not too much later.
“There you go,” Laris said to her. “It’s all good as new.” Cecilia still couldn’t grasp how pretty the girl was. A little bit of her was envious. Both of the dogs adored the newcomer. Zhaban placed a blanket around her shoulders.
“Thank you.” The newcomer had a beautiful smile, perfect, straightened and white teeth. Cecilia had stayed quiet. Picard handed the girl a cup of tea.
“Earl Grey. Never fails.”
“We’ll be in the kitchen,” Laris said, leaving the girl, Picard and Cecilia with the dogs. The girl kept a hand on her necklace. It was silver with two circles overlapping each other.
“That’s a unique necklace,” Picard commented. “May I see?” Somewhat hesitantly, the girl took her necklace off and handed it to him.
“My father gave it to me.”
“It’s lovely.”
“Have you ever….been a stranger to yourself?” Cecilia nodded a little, but didn’t say anything.
“Many, many times.” Picard gave her back the necklace. “May I ask your name?”
“Dahj.” To Cecilia, it was a pretty name that fit the pretty girl.
“Dahj,” the Admiral repeated. “I’m Jean-Luc.”
“I know. Not because of the interview or because you’re a great man. I know you .” Cecilia was a little offset, mostly due to the fact that she had grown up knowing Picard only as “Captain”. Her mother, now an adult, still referred to him as Captain. “It’s….older and deeper. So much deeper.”
“You may be right.”
“Do you know how?”
“No.”
“Do you think I’m crazy?”
“No,” Cecilia and Picard answered in unison.
“Do you believe me?”
“I believe that you believe you’re supposed to be here,” Picard told her. “Besides, if you were dangerous, then Number One and Juno would let me know.” Both dogs layed on each side of Dahj, calmly. Cecilia was bothered by Picard’s use of “me” instead of “us”. She was bothered by the fact that it already seemed like Dahj and Picard had known each other for years, when it had taken Cecilia almost three years to even build up more on a friendship. It was now year four of Cecilia living in the château. Picard could tell that something wasn’t right with Cecilia. “Laris,” he called into the kitchen. “Could you please show our guest to a room? I think she needs a good night’s sleep.”
“Come with me, dear,” Laris said to Dahj. “I’ll get you set up.” Before they exited the room, Dahj took Picard’s hand in hers.
“Thank you,” she told him. He nodded and slightly smiled in response. Both the dogs followed Dahj out of the room.
“Juno,” Cecilia called. Her dog didn't listen and continued to follow her. That very much upset Cecilia. Juno was her best friend, and he was completely walking away from her. It felt like she was being replaced. Dahj would be her replacement in Picard’s eyes, she felt. Cecilia and Picard were the only ones left in the room. Cecilia’s eyes were burning, growing hot and watery. Picard knew that something was wrong with her.
“Cecilia, we should talk,” he said. She looked at him with an expression that could only be described as upset.
“Screw off,” she snapped, quickly exiting the room before he could say anything else.
Cecilia didn’t sleep much that night. She fell asleep at midnight and was awake at three. Juno wasn’t in her room that night, either. He was with No. 1 in Dahj’s room. It was about eight that morning that she heard a few doors open and close. She looked out her window and saw Picard leaving. Why was he leaving? Something wasn’t right. Cecilia watched out her window until Picard was out of her sight. She instantly started running downstairs, straight for the door. She thought about bringing Juno with her, but reluctantly decided not to. Cecilia was halfway down the staircase, when Laris heard her.
“Cecilia, where are you going? The Admiral told me to tell you to stay here.” she called.
“Keep an eye on Juno for me, thanks!” Cecilia answered, running out the door. She hurried to the side of the house, grabbing the bike she and her brother had built when they were kids. Bikes had gone basically extinct over centuries, but there were still a few just-developing civilizations out there. Cecilia put in her earbuds, starting to listen to “My Sweet Lord” by George Harrison. She started pedaling as fast as possible, heading in the same direction as Picard. She was only about 50 feet away from the house, when a familiar four-legged figure ran up to her. Juno ran beside the bike, looking up at his human with happy eyes. Cecilia couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Laris,” she said to herself. She continued to pedal, following Picard to wherever he was to go.
She followed Picard’s path until they reached the more urban area that was closest to the château. Cecilia was determined to figure out where Picard was. She had lost sight of him, and instantly knew that he must have gone through a public transporter. The crowd of people walking around made Cecilia more and more nervous, like she didn’t belong and couldn’t blend in. Having a large furry dog didn’t help much either. She moved off to the side with Juno, looking at transport times, locations, and hacking into the transport records. Even though she felt two steps ahead, she knew she was three steps behind. Picard knew something that Cecilia didn’t, and Cecilia wasn’t one to be left in the dark.
“Found him,” Cecilia said quietly to Juno. She had found Picard’s exact trail, and it led to the archives. She wasn’t very sure why Picard was at the archives, but she was determined to find out. “Come on, Juno.” Cecilia quickly hopped on the bike and started pedaling.
There was one worry going through Cecilia’s mind: whether or not she’d be too late. Transporters moved a galaxy of a lot faster than her. It was the equivalent of riding in a moving vehicle compared to walking. She didn’t have the money to book a ride on a public transporter. She had to stop from exhaustion.
“We can hitchhike,” she said to Juno, who was equally as tired. An oncoming vehicle was already beginning to slow down for them. Cecilia held up a hand and the vehicle stopped for them.
Less than ten minutes later, Cecilia was locking her bike in front of the entire building.
“Thank you!” she called to the driver, who sped away. She and Juno entered the building. It was quiet and massive. The ceiling was extremely high, making the building look even bigger. It was a little overwhelming. Cecilia quickly caught sight of Picard walking with the Index hologram. “Captain!” she called, hurrying over to where he was standing. Juno immediately followed her. Picard turned to see where the all too familiar voice was coming from.
“Cecilia?”
“It took me a while to get here,” she told him with a smile.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well, you’re on some kind of adventure mission thing so I figured maybe I’d follow along.”
“I told you to stay home. To stay home for your own good.”
“You’re not doing anything dangerous right now, so there really isn’t a reason for me to stay home.”
“That’s not the point.”
“I figured I could, you know, help out.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You don’t get it, do you?” Cecilia went quiet immediately, her smile fully fading. “This isn’t your place.”
“I thought my place was to be with you and help you out, you know?”
“No. You shouldn’t even be here.”
“I thought I could be useful to find out more about Dahj.” There was a slight hesitation in Cecilia’s voice when she said Dahj’s name, but it was barely noticeable. “I didn’t have enough money for the public transporter, so I hitch-hiked a little bit until I found someone who got me here.”
“And you could have gotten hurt or worse.”
“But I didn’t and I’m here now.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“I’m here to help you and I’m completely fine. It’s not that big of a deal.”
“It is to me. I will not have you risk your life for mine.”
“With all due respect, Captain, that’s not your choice to make. It’s mine.”
“I don’t care.”
“You can’t make my decisions for me, Captain. Besides, I can’t really go back to the house now. I don’t have enough money and I doubt I’m going to be able to hitch-hike again.”
“Which is why you should’ve never come here in the first place.”
“I’m here because I wanted to be here so I can help you. Don’t you trust me?”
“It doesn’t matter about trust. It matters about what affairs you can and can’t be in.”
“Aren’t I already involved in this? Just as you are? I thought we were in this together.”
“No, you aren’t.”
“She came to us for help, it’s not just you .”
“You shouldn’t be here.”
“If I were my mother, you wouldn’t give a damn,” she snapped.
“You obviously aren’t. She would’ve been careful. You’re nothing like her.” That cut far too deep into Cecilia. She stared at Picard, just in anger and shock. He had never, ever spoken to Cecilia like that before.
“Screw this,” she finally replied, angry and defeated. She started heading back towards the entrance, where her bike was locked outside. “Have fun trying to figure out that Dahj is Data’s daughter.”
“What?”
“Dahj is Data’s daughter. That’s why you were coming here to the Archives. The painting in your study is one of two that Data made. My mom used to have a photocopy. He titled the painting ‘Daughter’ and it looks exactly like Dahj. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” Picard stared at Cecilia, unsure of how she knew any of that.
“Stay here,” he told her with a stern tone. He entered a room that was off to the side, and Cecilia assumed it to be his personal Starfleet storage space. Her mom had one, but rarely visited it. While she was waiting, she headed back outside and grabbed the bike, pulling it back up to the outside of the storage room. Picard exited the room a few moments later.
“I’m not wrong, am I?” Cecilia said before he could say anything else.
“It all makes sense now.”
“Exactly. I knew I recognized Dahj from somewhere and I thought about it last night because I couldn’t sleep and I realized that she’s the girl in the painting.”
“We have to find her.”
With Cecilia pedaling slowly on her bike next to Picard and Juno, they walked around, none of them truly sure where to go. Cecilia stopped immediately when a familiar figure walked around a corner in front of them.
“Dahj?” Picard questioned, as she approached them. “How did you know we were here? I was so worried when I found you were gone.”
“I was afraid they’d come again and put you in danger. I knew how to track you here. I know all this stuff now and I don’t know how. I can hear conversations a block away.”
“Come with us, away from here.” They moved to an area away from the people around them. Cecilia leaned the bike against a bench, crouching on the ground next to Juno, as Picard and Dahj took seats on the bench.
“I did some research,” Dahj began to explain. “I think I may have schizophrenia. With the auditory hallucinations-”
“You don’t have schizophrenia,” the Admiral and the half-Vulcan answered in unison.
“How do you know?”
“My mom’s schizophrenic,” Cecilia told her.
“And I lived on a starship with her mother for almost two and a half decades. Trust me, schizophrenia is one thing you definitely don’t have,” Picard added.
“Then that means I’m a freak.”
“No, you’re not. In fact, you might be extremely special. I had a dear friend, Commander Data. He was an android.”
“Like the ones who attacked Mars?”
“No, no, not at all. The word “android” causes all kinds of thoughts for people. Forget all of that.”
“Data was my uncle,” Cecilia commented.
“He was a highly decorated Starfleet officer. He….sacrificed his life for me on our very last mission together. Data was also an artist, he loved to paint.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“Because, Dahj, he painted you . Exactly as you are now, but he painted it thirty years ago.”
“That’s impossible.”
“He named the painting “Daughter”,” Cecilia concluded, a little hesitantly. She couldn’t help but think that she and Dahj were kind of relatives now. If she considered Data as her uncle, that would make Dahj her cousin.
“Look, your friend painted someone , but-”
“You said it was like lightning in your apartment,” Picard cut her off. You knew what to do, even though you’d never done it ever before. You knew they were coming after you and the hearing and you tracked me . Tracking me requires a security clearance code that you don’t have. The attack might have acted as a wake-up call, a positronic alarm bell.”
“No. No . I was born in Seattle, Washington. My dad was a xenobotanist and our house was filled with orchids and he named the offspring of two genuses after me. Orchidaceae Dahj oncidium. Yellow and pink.”
“It’s a beautiful memory. And it’s your memory. No one can take it away from you. But you must look inside yourself deeply and honestly. Have you ever considered the possibility that-”
“I’m a soulless killing machine?”
“No,” Cecilia interrupted. “You were created deliberately with more love than you or anyone can understand.”
“You’re telling me I’m not real.”
“No,” Picard replied. “If you are who I think you are, then you are dear to me in ways you can’t understand.” Cecilia felt her face starting to grow warm. Picard had never said anything even close to that to her before. She knew that he loved her mother more than probably anyone or anything else, but Cecilia just thought, no, she hoped that she could live up to that legacy. “I will never leave you.” He had never made that promise to Cecilia. She had tried for four years now to prove herself to him, and he had never said anything like what he was saying to Dahj to her. “If I’m right, it means that you are the daughter of a man who was all meaning, and all courage. Be like him. We’ll head to the Daystrom Research Institute of Okinawa. Cecilia, here, this’ll be enough money to get you home. Let Laris and Zhaban know what’s going on.” The half-Vulcan paused for a moment. He was sending her away again. She angrily picked up her bike and got on it, ignoring Picard’s outstretched hand with the money she needed. “Cecilia?” She started pedaling on her bike, Juno instantly following her. Picard had called something out to her, but she didn’t hear it. Once she was out of earshot and eyeshot, she got off her bike and started walking it, just in complete anger. Cecilia didn’t fully understand what had fully happened. Picard had never said anything like that to her, or anyone that she had known, before. It was Dahj. In Cecilia’s mind, it was all Dahj. Cecilia was a very fragile person, and now it was determined how fragile she truly was. She was the “disappointment child”, as she called herself, the Starfleet dropout, the less successful sibling, compared to her brother. Cecilia truly believed that she could easily be replaced, and the evidence seemed to show that Dahj was now her replacement. Picard had always treated Cecilia with great care and gentleness; a gentleness that was unique to both him and her. Now, he seemed to be showing that emotion towards Dahj. Everything, over the past day and a half, had become about Dahj. Cecilia knew that it was right to help her and everything, but Dahj was never supposed to draw Picard’s emotions so close. Cecilie felt that Dahj had filled her place in Picard’s mind. She felt so angry, but it felt also so wrong that she blamed her potential cousin.
“Dahj, Dahj, Dahj! Everything’s about Dahj now!” she ranted to her four-legged friend walking next to her. Juno whined, knowing his human was ready to angrily cry. “He’ll probably want to keep her around, and there’ll be no place for me anymore. Screw it, why do I care? She can take my place, just like….just like….dammit!” Unshed tears burned in her eyes. She wondered if her mother ever felt like this. Picard and Vanessa were closer than anyone knew or thought, but he still had to sometimes act as an authority figure to her. Did her mother ever feel this way? Although Cecilia tried to convince herself that she could just walk away at any given time, she just couldn’t truly grasp the thought that maybe Picard had replaced her. She internally cared about him so much, didn’t he care about her too? “I wish I knew what Mom would do. Mom always knows what to do,” she said to Juno. The moment she finished her sentence, she heard a voice she recognized all too well.
“Cecilia!” she heard Picard’s voice shout from a distance. Panic filled her heart, and she took off running with the bike, Juno right behind her. She was still mad and upset, but that could wait. Cecilia had sworn one thing to her mother, and by the galaxy she would never break her promise. She’d protect the people in her life that she loved, even if it meant risk and danger. “Cecilia!” she heard again, near a stairway. She ditched the bike at the bottom of the steps and started running up as fast as she could. She could hear blaster shots and fighting going on at the top of the stairs. Cecilia kept running faster, Juno a few steps ahead of her. A masked and armored body fell down the stairs, just missing Cecilia and her furry companion.
“What the hell?” she questioned out loud, not stopping to think about it. She reached the top of the stairs a few seconds later, to see Dahj at the top of a second staircase with a gun pointed at another masked, armored being. Picard was standing in between them. The being spit a green liquid at Dahj. It landed on her weapon and her clothing. Something was happening. Dahj was….dissolving. The liquid was acid. It had to be. Dahj looked at Picard with complete horror. She screamed out in pain.
“NO!” Picard and Cecilia screamed out in unison. Cecilia’s shriek drowned out the Admiral’s. The weapon that was covered in acid sparked and caused an explosion. Cecilia managed to grab Juno and pull him into the stairway, so that they were out of the blast range. Something hit her forehead, instantly burning her skin, but she still didn’t move. She only kept Juno further covered. When the smoke cleared, Cecilia instantly ran to where Picard now layed on the ground, motionless.
“Captain? Captain? Oh God,” she kept repeated, trying to see if Picard was actually still alive. “Juno, get help!” Her dog took off, knowing that command all too well. Cecilia didn’t know what to do. “Help!” she shrieked. “Someone help me! HELP ME! SOMEONE! HELP!”
“He’s awake,” Laris said quietly. Cecilia looked up, hopeful for anything. Both of the dogs picked their heads up, checking to see if it was true.
“I’m alright, Number One. I’m alright, Juno,” Picard told the dogs in a disoriented tone. Cecilia sat up in her chair, her eyes red and the burn mark on her forehead already starting its first stages of healing. It looked simply like a reddened, newly formed scar that would eventually go away, but it still burned, even at the slightest touch, which was why Cecilia had her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.
“You had a bad hit,” Laris told the Admiral. “Otherwise, you’re apparently the same. You gave us a fright. What happened, Admiral?” Cecilia had told Laris and Zhaban everything she knew, but the problem was that she didn’t know everything. She had missed the entire event of the beginning of the battle.
“Dahj. She’s dead.” Laris looked back at Cecilia, who had her head in her hands. Cecilia had told them, and it was even further confirmed.
“The police didn’t mention her. They only found Cecilia and you on the roof, after Cecilia sent Juno to get help. They said there was no one else on the security feed, except for the two of you.”
“She could’ve had a cloaking device,” Zhaban suggested. “That could be why we didn’t see her on the property feeds.”
“It might’ve activated automatically,” Picard added, “when she was in danger. She was a synthetic. The assassins were Romulan.”
“I told them about Dahj,” Cecilia said, sniffling.
“She came here to find safety,” Picard continued. “She deserved better from me. I owe it to her to find out who killed her and why.”
“You ask too much of yourself,” Laris argued.
“Sitting here, all these years, writing books of history people prefer to forget, I never asked anything of myself at all.” Picard sat up, slightly concerning the Romulan siblings. “I haven’t been living. I’ve been waiting to die.”
Cecilia, Juno and Picard were at the Daystrom Institute of Okinawa only about an hour and a half later, despite the protests from their housemates. Juno was on a leash this time, wrapping diagonally from Cecilia’s shoulder, down to her waist. They hadn’t talked to each other, and it didn’t seem like either of them were planning to.
“Admiral Picard,” a feminine voice called from their right. “It’s an honor.” A woman with short, blonde hair, wearing a lab coat, approached them.
“Doctor Jurati,” he greeted. “Thank you for giving us the time.” The two shook hands.
“Oh, Agnes. And you are….?” she turned to Cecilia.
“Cecilia Williams,” the half-Vulcan answered, shaking hands with Agnes Jurati.
“Ah, I met your mom not too long ago. You two look exactly alike.”
“I get that a lot.”
“How can I help the two of you?”
“You can tell us if it’s possible to make a sentient android out of flesh and blood,” Picard told her. Jurati smiled and started to laugh.
“No, really, how can I….” her voice trailed off and her smile began to fade when she realized that they were serious. Juno sat patiently at Cecilia’s side, knowing that if it kept up like this, it was going to be a long day. “Is that why you’ve come here?”
“Yes.”
“Even before the ban, that was….well….a flesh and blood android was in reach, but a sentient one? Not for a thousand years or more.
“That makes it even more curious,” Cecilia replied, “that, recently, we’ve had tea with one.” The comment was meant to be somewhat sarcastic, but it didn’t come out that way. Cecilia’s voice was serious, as it needed to be.
The group walked through the halls of the Institute, discussion the matter further.
“Sentient synthetics that appear human inside and out was one of the greatest ideas that was hypothesized. It feels like a lifetime ago,” Jurati explained. They entered the experimental testing room designated specifically for synthetic engineering. It was empty, with the exception of about five people. The room was large enough to hold probably around 100 students. “Welcome to what’s left of the Federation’s Division of Advanced Synthetic Research.”
“It’s deserted,” Cecilia commented, not fully believing what she was seeing.
“It’s a ghost town in more ways than one. This is where the androids that destroyed Mars were created. Now, we can only operate theoretically. Study, publish and run simulations.”
“You can’t actually make anything,” Picard stated.
“Correct. This is everything that ever mattered to us. To me. No one makes synths of any kind anymore. It’s a violation of galactic treaty now.”
“Isn’t it possible to create a synthetic that looks fully human?”
“The short and easy answer is no.”
“Give us the long and difficult answer,” Cecilia said. “Let’s go with it.” Jurati walked over and opened up a drawer, which contained the parts of a dismembered android.
“It’s a B4, isn’t it?” Picard questioned.
“Looks a lot like Uncle Data,” Cecilia added quietly.
“He’s an inferior copy,” Jurati explained. “Data tried to download the contents of his neural net into B4, just before his death. Almost all of it was lost. Truthfully, B4 wasn’t anything like Data, at all. No other synth has been. No one has ever been able to redevelop the scientific technique used to create Data. Then came Bruce Maddox. He recruited me out of Starfleet. Despite Data’s death, we were so close, until we got shut down, and it just crushed him.”
“Where is he now?” Picard asked.
“He disappeared after the ban. I tried to find him, but-”
“You said ‘despite Data’s death’, meaning that any new synthetic would have had to be made from Data.”
“Advanced ones, yes. If you had Data’s neural net, perfecting a flesh and blood body would be actually quite simple.”
“But his neural net died with him,” Cecilia said in uncertainty.
“That’s where we come to the no that I was talking about.” Picard held up Dahj’s necklace.
“Does this mean anything to you?” he asked.
“Where did you get that?”
“From our tea-drinking companion that you said couldn’t exist.”
“I really, really, really wish you had come here on my day off. It’s a symbol for fractal neuronic cloning.” Picard and Cecilia exchanged glances. Seeing their confusion, Jurati continued. “It was a beautiful idea of Maddox’s. His theory was that Data’s entire code, including his memories, could be remade from a single positronic neuron. If there is a perfect synth, like you say-”
“Then Data, or some part of Data, an essence of him-”
“Yes, essence.”
“-Would be alive.”
“There’d be no way of knowing without examining Dahj.”
“Data’s daughter. He always wanted a daughter. I believe Maddox modeled her on an old painting of Data’s.”
“A female? I suppose you could make them that way.”
“Them?”
“They’re always made in pairs.”
“Twins?”
“So there’s another one.”