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2398
Rupert Crandall was sitting at their dining room table when all three Troi-Rikers descended the stairs one morning. They froze, halfway down, and stared.
He was in a bathrobe.
Lwaxana Troi was standing behind him, her arms draped around his shoulders.
Psionic shock pinged in Deanna’s head and Will unconsciously took a step away from her. She sensed his amusement and shot him a look that would freeze a Horta in its tracks. She still hadn’t gotten used to this.
Lwaxana cooed something at the burly Captain, an admonishment to an unruly but adorable puppy, and his massive bulk folded in on itself in bashfulness. She untangled her long peignoir sleeves from around his neck and pinched his cheek. As she swanned away, Crandall reached out to swat her rear end.
Will almost fell down the stairs.
Kestra, unperturbed as always, pushed past her parents to gallop down into the house. She jumped to a halt beside the table and threw her hand up in an ancient military salute. “Morning, Captain!”
“Ah, Lieutenant.” Crandall returned the salute. “Good to see you.”
“Hi, Xanny.” Kestra rounded the table to kiss her grandmother.
“Hello, my darling.” Lwaxana ran a hand over Kestra’s bedhead. “Did you sleep well?” Lwaxana filled her juice glass as Kestra slid into her chair.
“Uh huh.” Kestra waited one perfect comedic beat. “Did you?”
2392
On one of Lwaxana’s first trips to Nepenthe, she stepped off the transport ship at the spaceport at Infinity Lake weary and bedraggled, having spent a full three days journey from Betazed in what the crew called a cabin but was little more than a bunk with a curtain. She had never been less ready to meet a man.
Her grandchildren dragged Captain Rupert Crandall over to her almost instantly, eager to show off their new friend, one of the many oddities of their new home. He was tall and strongly built, the weight of many adventurous years having accumulated on his back and in his eyes. He held himself confidently, but with the gentle resignation of having somehow acquired eleven- and six-year-olds as comrades.
“Captain.” Lwaxana held out her hand.
Crandall took it in his massive palm and nodded with the precise amount of deference that he knew would appease her. “Ambassador.”
They looked each other over for a moment, suspicion and curiosity and amusement, and Lwaxana felt Deanna tense in the back of her mind. Will’s delight ricocheted like fireflies.
“Captain Crandall’s been everywhere!” Thad pushed his way in between them, popping the psionic bubble. “Ferenginar!”
“Qo’nos!” Kestra trilled, shoving her brother out of the way and staring up at her grandmother with wide eyes, clearly impressed.
“Well, so have I,” Lwaxana shot back, a little insulted.
“But have you been to the Betreka Nebula?”
“The Delphic Expanse and the Ghulion system?!”
Thad and Kestra fell all over each other singing Crandall’s praises. He had the good grace to look a little embarrassed. If they weren’t children, Lwaxana would assume this was a set up.
“He fought a wild targ at Starbase 241!”
“He rescued the Princess of Koropia from Tyken’s Rift!”
“He’s been to the Delta Quadrant!” they yelled in unison. Maybe they had practiced this after all.
“That’s not so impressive anymore.” Lwaxana shrugged coyly and glanced at the Captain. He was laughing. Good.
She let him carry her massive suitcases all the way to the house.
2392
Half a year later, Lwaxana Troi planted herself in the seat next to Rupert Crandall at one of Thad’s archery competitions, Risian lace parasol held aloft, giant purple sunglasses hiding her amusement and the odd strain of apprehension she so rarely felt. Across the field, Deanna, Will and Kestra watched her.
Mother! Mother, come back here!
Lwaxana waved. Deanna scowled. Kestra waved back.
“What’s the matter?” Will asked around a mouthful of popcorn.
“This could be bad.”
“Why? I think they’re cute.”
“I hope they get married!” Kestra yelled and Deanna almost dropped the competition program she was fanning herself with.
Across the field, Lwaxana cocked her head slightly at them and laid her hand on Crandall’s arm as he spoke.
“Little One, please. Not so loud — out there or in here.” She tapped the side of her daughter’s head with the program.
Kestra frowned and plunged her hand into her father’s popcorn. “But I want a grandpa.”
Will and Deanna exchanged a look over her tousled blonde head. “I know. I just … I don’t know him very well. Has he really been to all those places?”
“Sure he has. He’s the most interesting man in the galaxy!” Kestra munched happily on the popcorn, but Will looked a little insulted. She shrugged. “And if not, at least he tells good stories.”
Will grumbled into his popcorn, then looked up, a slow grin spreading across his face. “Do you think they’ve … you know … done it?” Will waggled his eyebrows comically.
“Will!”
Kestra looked up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Well, she is your mother.”
Kestra looked between them. “Done what?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
Will withered under the weight of his wife’s stare. “I … don’t know.”
“Done what? Talked on subspace?” Kestra looked back and forth between her parents. Her eyes lit up. “Gone on a date?”
“Nonsense. She’s only met him once before.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean they haven’t —.”
“Shut up, Will!”
Kestra gasped sharply, like a girl who suddenly learned all the world’s secrets. “Kissed?!”
A few people turned around to look. Across the field, Lwaxana was leaning into some apparently fascinating tale Crandall was telling.
“And don’t think about it either,” Deanna told Will and he frowned.
“Ew, now I am.”
Kestra sighed and threw her head back. “WHAT DID THEY DO?!”
“Nothing!”
“That you know of.”
“Will!”
On the field, Thad was preparing to shoot for his team. Ten points to win. The crowd hushed in anticipation and as Thad drew his bow, his form perfect, and fired, Kestra leapt to her feet, pointing out across the field, quivering with excitement. “They’re holding hands!”
Deanna pulled her back down into her seat as Will shoved some popcorn into her mouth just as the rest of the spectators jumped up around them.
Bullseye.
Between the celebrating bodies, Deanna saw her mother and Crandall on their feet cheering for Thad, fingers lightly, casually, intertwined.
2393
“Hey! Crewman!”
Kestra turned toward the distant voice. “Hi, Captain,” she sighed, stopping to wait for him to crest the ridge.
“Kestra! Slow down!” Lwaxana emerged from the woods behind her, brow glistening, and leaned against the nearest tree trunk. “Oh. Rupert.” She straightened up and tried to push her hair back into place.
He tipped his imaginary cap. “Lwaxana.”
“What are you doing here?” She yanked her gown free of the underbrush.
He shrugged. “Exploring,” he said vaguely with a wink to Kestra. “What are you ladies doing all the way out in the wilderness?”
Lwaxana threw her hands in the air. “The four deities only know.”
Kestra sighed dramatically. “I was trying to show Xanny the sacred clearing of the Viveen, but —.” She huffed toward the horizon, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze. “We’re lost.”
“Where’s your brother?”
Kestra turned on him, eyes ablaze. “I don’t need him to not get lost!”
“No, of course not. I’d never suggest such a thing.” Crandall took a step back, hands raised in submission. “I’m just wondering because I could use his help myself. A Captain isn’t much without his Number One to keep him on track when he gets lost.”
Kestra squinted at him. “You get lost?”
“All the time.”
Kestra moved to the edge of the bluff and gazed out into the valley below, where presumably her house sat, nestled at the foot of the mountains. Nepenthe’s three moons hung hazily in the late afternoon sun. “Thad doesn’t feel well.”
Crandall met Lwaxana’s eye and she felt his sudden adrenaline rush rip through her. Apprehension, fear, sadness.
“What do you do when you get lost?” Kestra asked, pulling their attention back to the small figure glowing on the bluff. Her cloak blew in the breeze, her face-paint shining like copper in the sunshine. The makings of a wild woman.
“I use this.” Crandall took something out of his pocket and knelt down in front of her. “How would you like a new job as navigation officer?”
Kestra cradled the round metal object in her hands. It’s needle spun wildly, searching for an anchor. “A compass?”
“The job comes with a promotion to Lieutenant.”
“My grandpa was a Lieutenant, too.”
Crandall glanced up at Lwaxana, who was smiling sadly. “This compass will always lead home.”
“But it’s broken.”
“No, it’s looking. Just trust it. It’s yours now.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Crandall stood and Kestra wandered the clearing, eyes fixed on the spinning needle. Lwaxana appeared at his side and wrapped her hand around his elbow. “Are you sure you don’t have any children?”
“Not that I know of.” She rolled her eyes and he leaned close. “Just crew.”
“Well, I hear they can be quite like children at times,” Lwaxana said diplomatically. “Especially when my son-in-law is involved.”
Crandall plucked up one curl that had fallen haphazardly over her forehead during her woodland adventure and plopped it back on top of her elaborate up-do. “You’re a little over-dressed for a romp in the woods, Ambassador.” He slipped his arm around her waist and gazed out over the valley.
Lwaxana arched one perfect eyebrow and became acutely aware of her gigantic jeweled earring tapping his shoulder. “A romp, Captain?” He chuckled and she turned to face him, not noticing him pulling her close until her sequins were pressed against his rough linen shirt. “Who’s romping?”
Crandall shrugged. “No one yet.”
Lwaxana burst out laughing. “It’s usually me making those kinds of jokes, Rupert.”
Crandall slid his other arm around her and clasped his hands behind her back. “Who’s joking?”
He smiled and warmth flowed through her senses. Nothing untoward, nothing insincere. He was a mostly open book, a fascinating read, but she could tell there was more. He really had been everywhere, but always seemed to be searching for something else. Lwaxana reached up to touch the lines next to his eyes, carved deep by laughter and loss like her own, then ran her fingers down his face, the very beginnings of a new beard catching her fingernails. “And what would you have me wear in the woods?”
Crandall leaned in conspiratorially. “Not much,” he whispered and his breath against her ear traveled all the way down her spine. Lwaxana felt his hand on her face and in the split-second after she realized he was going to kiss her she suddenly laughed and he pulled back. “What?”
“We’re so old!” she yelled before dropping her forehead against his chest, shaking with laughter.
“Hey, speak for yourself.”
“There!” Kestra hollered from across the clearing and Lwaxana stepped back. “Xanny, look!” Kestra held up her compass triumphantly. The needle had stopped its wild spinning, pointing confidently out into the valley. “Home!”
The next day when Lwaxana went traipsing through the woods after Kestra she wore pants and Deanna’s hiking boots. Her red face-paint smeared across her forehead where she swatted a bug. Her earrings were only slightly smaller, but no less bright in the mid-day sun. A matching jeweled necklace disappeared into her cleavage, shining in the open neck of her light blouse.
That morning Kestra wove leaves and flowers into her hair as she drank her raktajino on the porch. By the time she realized the extent of what was happening, it was done and Kestra looked so pleased with herself that she couldn’t object. Even Thad approved from his nest on the sofa. But now she was convinced that there were bugs crawling along her scalp. It was hot. Her hands were dirty. Her nose itched. Things kept trying to land on her eyelashes. She wasn’t sure she was cut out to be a Viveen. Maybe something in Ardani politics.
“I look ridiculous,” she grumbled as Crandall helped her up a steep incline. She let him hold on to her hand long after she was steadied.
Crandall chuckled. “No, you don’t.” She let him pull her behind a tree like a couple of teenagers hiding from a parent, instead of a couple of old people hiding from a child.
She shrugged nonchalantly, tree bark scraping against her shoulder blades. “William made fun of me, but at least my Thaddy said I looked pretty. He’s a good liar.”
“I’ve never met a more truthful soul,” he said. He meant it and she let him kiss her.
2394
“Number One.”
Thad grinned up at him. “Hey, Cap.”
Crandall dropped into the Adirondack chair beside him and stretched his legs out in the grass.
“You here to see Xanny?” He looked so small inside his cocoon of blankets.
Crandall scoffed. “Heck no. It’s guy time.”
Thad laughed. “Okay.”
He settled into his chair to watch the sky fade to gray and on toward black behind the setting sun. The stars winked to life, pinpricks of life sprouting across the expanse. Nepenthe’s moons hung high and bright in the heavens. Behind them, lamps flickered on in the house as the sounds of dishes and soapy water and laughter floated out into the yard. Lwaxana was knee deep in a story that Kestra kept interrupting. Although they couldn’t hear the words, voices muffled and distorted through space and time, Thad seemed to be following along well enough until he frowned and shook his head as if dislodging cobwebs. After a moment, he turned to the man beside him.
“So. What exactly are your intentions with my grandmother?”
Crandall squinted at him and Thad made an admirable attempt at suppressing his smile. “This is a conversation I expected from your mother. Or maybe your father, but just for laughs and over a beer.”
“I told them I wanted to do it.” Thad grinned. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Are you going to make an honest woman out of her?”
Crandall couldn’t decide if he wanted to scowl or laugh, so he settled on a smirk. “None of your business.”
Thad’s eyes widened. “Of course it is. She’s my Xanny,” he said earnestly and Crandall was reminded for the first time in a long time that despite his maturity Thad was still thirteen and thirteen was still young. “I need to know she’ll be happy after —.”
“Thad! What did he say?!” Kestra made it halfway down the stairs into the yard before Will scooped her up in his soapy arms and threw her over his shoulder. “Daddy, no! Ask him if he loves her!” she shrieked before the door slammed behind her.
Thad quirked one eyebrow at him. It must be hereditary. “Well?”
“Well what?!” Crandall countered louder than intended, crossing his burly arms over his chest defensively.
Thad nodded. “Interesting.” He produced an old-fashioned pen and notebook from the folds of his blanket and jotted something down.
“What is that?”
“Nothing.”
“What are you writing?”
“Just some thoughts. Observations.” Crandall leaned toward him, craning his neck to see the notebook. “It’s in Harpanthi.”
Crandall fell back in his chair. “Damn.” He frowned. “Why are you even asking? Can’t you … tell?” He gestured vaguely to his own head.
“Only sometimes.” Thad slowly closed his notebook, deliberately hooking his pen onto the cover. “It comes and goes. A side effect. Even if they had a positronic matrix and could cure me, they don’t think my telepathy would be stable.” He smiled at Crandall, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I do know that some of your stories aren’t true, though.”
“How?”
Thad tapped the side of his head. “Only sometimes.”
“Right.” Crandall nodded. He wasn’t good at conversations like this. Feelings. Important things. “I’ve been to all of those places I talk about, I just exaggerated some of the stories for you two. Running cargo can get boring after a while.”
“It's okay, my stories aren’t real either. I’m not really Viveen. You’re not really a pirate.” Thad shrugged and peered into the sky. “Real isn’t always better.”
“No. It’s really not.”
Thad suddenly laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Kestra you didn’t actually defeat the Dominion at Trill.”
“Thanks." Crandall grumbled and shifted in his chair. "You two are getting a lot of enjoyment out of this, aren’t you?”
“Xanny is amazing when she’s happy.”
Crandall stared into the heavens. The galaxy above shone like a river. Blinking lights of craft in the sky. Birds and bats traveling from tree to tree. “Is she happy?” he asked quietly.
Thad smiled at him. “Almost.”
2394
“Well, it’s just as we suspected,” Lwaxana told the ceiling. Gray. The walls, gray. The floor — gray. The sheets? She had to double check. Light gray.
“What is?”
“I’m not Viveen after all.” Her turquoise gown draped over a chair, also gray, in the corner was the brightest thing in the room. “You really do need an interior designer.”
“For a cargo ship?”
Lwaxana watched Nepenthe drift past the window as they orbited the planet, so much like Betazed, lush greens and deep blues. “It doesn’t mean it has to be ugly. A little color in here wouldn’t kill you.”
Crandall harrumphed impatiently beside her and she smiled. It reminded her a little of Odo. Finally his curiosity got the better of him. “So, what are you?”
She didn’t answer right away. Building suspense was an art form. “A Mind Witch.”
Crandall smirked at the far wall. “Is that supposed to shock me?”
Lwaxana punched him in the arm. “High Priestess of the Mind Witches of the Southern Ice.” She waited for him to be appropriately impressed. “I have a crown.”
He laughed and turned to face her. “Of course you do.” Crandall slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. “Would the High Priestess deign to shack up with a lowly sea captain?”
“Maybe. You’re not the infamous Ardani Pirate King, are you?”
He grinned. “Only on Wednesdays.”
“Do you actually go places on that ship? Or do you just stay in port?”
“Wow. Rude. Now I’m not going to tell you about it.” Crandall rolled over, but Lwaxana laughed and pulled him back.
“No, tell me! What’s it like?”
Crandall settled one arm under his head. “It’s a sleek ship, filled with riches. Gleaming wood with a giant blue sail. When the wind hits right, it feels like you’re flying. The figurehead is a beautiful alien woman. She’s very over-dressed for a sea voyage, but she sparkles in the sun. She has wild hair.” Crandall brushed her curls off of her forehead, then traced his fingers over her cheek. “And black eyes. She senses things we can’t, so she keeps us safe.”
Lwaxana leaned forward to kiss him. “You’re sweet. For a pirate.”
“Don’t tell anyone. It’ll ruin my reputation. Hey." He looked at her like she might be a mirage, something desperately needed that could evaporate if he got too close. “Are you real?”
She smirked. “Most of me.” Lwaxana gently ran her fingers over his tattoo. Rows of tiny stars on his chest, etched where medals or a com badge would be, neat but not identical, done at different times, the oldest of which were fading into his skin. There was an unasked question in her exploration, a reverence in her touch. For each star she lingered with, Crandall formed an image in his mind for her, a face, a personality. One star for every lost crewman. Seven.
Crandall smiled sadly and put his hand over hers, pressing it to his heart. Years of hardship and loss flowed into her palm. They met with hers and seamlessly cohabited, settling down together like old friends, comfortable and aching and threatening to bubble to the surface again, fresh and sharp with anticipation.
Lwaxana met Crandall’s eyes and saw herself reflected in their shine. She blinked and her tears slid down her temple to darken the pillowcase. His thoughts played across her mind like a movie — telling Thad and Kestra stories around a campfire, working on The Inside Straight with his Number One, sailing the high seas in his wooden ship with his crew — and she had to look away.
“He’s dying,” she whispered into the gray silence that descended on them.
“Yeah.”
Crandall’s soft agreement ripped the sobs from deep in her chest before she even knew they were there. He gathered her into his arms, strong hands on her back, his face in her hair, and Lwaxana pressed her cheek to his stars.
2395
“Rupert? Rupert!” Lwaxana stood at the mouth of an unnatural clearing, a wide path of destroyed trees behind her, staring at the damaged hull of The Inside Straight. On the ground. Where it should not be. She could feel him nearby, but he was nowhere in sight. “Rupert!”
Captain Rupert Crandall slid out from under the hull of his ship. He was lying on a hoverboard, tools in hand, sweat and soot and whatever liquids were in a starship shining on his arms. He grinned at her. “Hi.” She stared, for once at a loss for words, and gestured widely to his damaged ship and the flattened forest. “What? You’re not impressed by the ancient hot rod mechanic aesthetic?” He propped his head up on his hand and winked.
Lwaxana crossed her arms, but smiled despite herself. “Are you actually working under there or did you just do that for the reaction?”
“I’m working. Look, tools.” He waved something metal in the air and struggled to his feet.
Lwaxana gasped. “You’re hurt!”
Crandall looked down at the crude bandage wrapped around his left bicep like he forgot it was there. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s not nothing!” She hurried over and tried to take his arm, but he twisted out of her grasp.
“No. Stop. Stop!” Crandall backed up and held out a hand between them. “It’s fine.”
“Did you crash?”
“Just a little.”
“A little?!” She turned from him and laid her palms on the metal hull as if she could read the ship’s mind. She ran her hands over an area where the protective plating was burned away and exhaled. “Rupert, is this phaser fire?”
“It’s fine.” Crandall slipped his arms around her and turned her away from the ship. “Please don’t worry.” Lwaxana gripped his arms, fully intending to push him away until he buried his face in her neck and her eyes slipped closed.
“Why did you call me? I was on that transport for days, Crandall. This better be good.”
He smiled against her skin. “I missed you.” He nudged a giant pink sapphire earring out of the way with his nose and kissed her gently.
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?”
She frowned. “A little.”
Crandall tightened his arms around her waist. “Good.”
“You know, I’ve learned that whenever a human man says ‘it’s fine,’ it’s usually the opposite of fine.” Lwaxana lifted Crandall’s head so she could look in his eyes. “What happened?”
He smiled sadly and lied to her. “Nothing. I really did miss you, though.”
Lwaxana cupped his face in her hands and kissed him. “You stink,” she whispered, their foreheads pressed together, and he laughed.
“For the record, when I called you last week I didn’t know this was going to happen.”
Lwaxana squinted at him. “Was it one of those — what did the children used to call them?”
“Subspace booty call?” She laughed, one loud burst that rolled into waves that she knew Deanna would sense elsewhere on the planet. She’d have to answer for her surprise arrival later. Crandall grinned rakishly. “Are you that kind of girl?”
“I’m here, aren’t I?” Lwaxana ran her fingers over his beard and he noticed a tiny shift in her gaze — concentration, caution, care.
Crandall took her hand from his face. “Stop knocking, Xana.”
She huffed, psionic tendrils dissipating in the air between them. “How are you blocking me out?”
“I knew a Vulcan once.”
“You knew a —!” Lwaxana froze and tilted her head, wonder and sadness. “No one’s called me Xana since Ian died.”
“I’m sorry. I can stop.”
“Oh. No.” She smiled softly. “No, I think it’s okay.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Lwaxana laid her hand over his heart, covering his stars, the fingers of her other hand playing at his homemade bandage, trying to suss out the extent of his injury. “Tell me what happened.”
Crandall hesitated for a moment. His indecision pulled between them like the tide. “I can’t,” he said finally. “I failed. I don’t want to upset you.”
“You won’t, I promise. Show me then. Please.”
Crandall exhaled, his shoulders slumping with resignation and relief. His arms around her waist relaxed, gaining weight, using her as an anchor, and he closed his eyes. All sound dropped out of the forest as she concentrated. The hot sun on her face and the sweet woodland air drifted away, replaced with the cold manufactured atmosphere and buzzing holograms of Freecloud. Jumbled noises, talking ads targeted at Crandall — bars, jewelry stores, disreputable dealers of items of dubious legality.
The bright lights of the city. Dark alleys. Back rooms. Basements.
Shady figures lurking in the shadows of his memory. A heavily-armed Cardassian. A Bajoran with a bat’leth. A particularly ugly Ferengi with one of those vintage glowing rope weapons.
Crandall handed an Orion trader a case of something. He took a bag in exchange. Looked inside. “It’s the last one.” He nodded. Turned to go.
He stumbled. Blood oozing from his arm. He whirled and shot the Cardassian before anyone else dared to move.
Basements. Back rooms. Dark alleys. The bright lights of the city.
The Inside Straight jumped to warp. Soon, a ship behind him, pursuing. In and out of sight for hours. Brief altercations. Disappearances and reappearances. Shortcuts and detours. Feints and double-backs.
A last battle above Nepenthe. Slamming through the atmosphere. Multiple hull breaches. Mountains. Lakes. Trees. Ground.
Crandall on the floor. Debris. Alarms. Smoke. Fire.
The bag across the bridge. Empty. It’s contents stared at him.
Lwaxana gasped and Crandall tensed, with anger, with shame, his face clenching, his fingers gripping her tighter.
A head. Smooth pale synthetic skin, patches of flashing lights, an intact positronic brain. Wires like veins snaked from its neck. “D3” stamped on its forehead. Gold eyes bored into her.
Crandall crawled toward it, reaching. His fingers brushed the nose as it was beamed away. The other ship disappeared from sensors and he screamed into the fumes.
Lwaxana opened her eyes as his apologies tumbled over her like a waterfall, his pain flooding the clearing. “I tried to be a real pirate for him,” he said, his voice twisting. “But I couldn’t. It’s not —. It’s the last one. I had it,” he sobbed and she caught his tears in her palms. “It was real.”
Lwaxana pulled him into her arms, a hand on the back of his head, and pressed her face into his neck. She inhaled — smoke and plasma fire, a distant city and defeat — and said a grateful prayer to the four deities that he was alive and she wouldn’t have to mourn them both.
“Thank you, Rupert,” she whispered and he wrapped his arms around her.
The sun slid across the sky, illuminating her bright pink gown, sparkling against the burnt hull of the ship. A fuchsia beacon in the decimated clearing, a plume of smoke still creeping from the port side of The Inside Straight, and she knew that she loved him.
2395
The small figure stood at the prow of the ship as it cut through the water, boots braced, one hand gripping the rail, the other clutching her compass as she squinted into the distance. Her cloak fluttered out behind her like wings and salt wind whipped through her hair. Below, the priceless jewels embedded in the wooden figurehead’s gown, plundered from warring kingdoms on Pirate Wednesdays, glinted in the sunlight. The figure’s onyx eyes were fixed ahead, unblinking, alert for danger. Beads of water set like diamonds in her voluminous curls, intricately carved across the bow and weaving up onto the rail under the girl’s hand and snaking away along the deck.
The girl glanced up at the boy in the crow’s nest, spyglass pressed to his eye. She caught his attention and nodded starboard. He nodded back and pocketed the glass. He turned toward the Captain at the helm, who was fighting to keep the wheel steady, sea spray and sweat glistening across his straining muscles. “Hard to starboard, Captain!” he yelled above the waves, pointing toward the shore. “Just around the bend!”
The Captain didn’t answer, but wrenched the wheel to one side, smoothly bringing the massive ship about, narrowly avoiding the rocks barely peeking above the water. The last trees slipped past and the Panthali Tower rose out of the craggy shore before them.
“Drop anchor!” the Captain roared. “Lower the sail!” The boy scurried down the mainmast and met the girl at the halyard. The Captain released the stopper and the heavy anchor splashed into the sea, the thick rope uncoiling on the deck until it hit sand. The ship drifted toward the shore until the anchor line snapped taut and the sail was safely furled, pulling them to a sudden stop, bowsprit mere feet from the rocky outcropping below the Tower. When the ship was finally still, bobbing peacefully off the shores of the Niktlin Empire, its three crew members lined up at the rail and waited.
From the dock, Will and Deanna watched Crandall, Thad, and Kestra balance awkwardly in the small rowboat Will had half-jokingly christened the USS Imzadi, staring off into the trees on the opposite side of the lake. One of Kestra’s dolls was lashed to the bow. Oars and ropes snaked between their feet. Deanna took a sip from her wine glass and scooted closer to her husband on the bench. “This is way better than the holodeck.”
Will draped his arm around her shoulders. “That’s probably what we looked like, screaming at those black and yellow walls like a bunch of rabid sehlats.”
Deanna nudged him. “Stop. They’re cute.”
The part-time Pirate King swung his arms through his long coat as he stalked toward the bow, boots thumping across the deck, and his crew fell into step beside him. He planted himself above the figurehead and grabbed the rail, fingers slipping into her carved curls. He said nothing, but stared at the Panthali Tower, squinting as he spotted movement behind one of it’s heavily curtained windows.
As if summoned, the High Priestess of the Mind Witches of the Southern Ice appeared from the darkness within, slipping out onto the balcony like a snow drift in a bright white cloak and sparkling crown, spires of ice twisting toward the heavens. She smiled as if she expected them. “Captain.”
Across the lake, Lwaxana Troi struggled out onto the platform of Thad and Kestra’s treehouse in a sparkly gray dress, hauling her skirts up the stairs behind her. Her replicated icicle crown, endearing with its handmade asymmetry, sat crooked on her head. She paused to catch her breath. “Captain.”
“Priestess!” Crandall bellowed. “My stalwart crew and I —.”
Kestra waved at her grandmother. “Hi, Xanny!”
Lwaxana blew her a kiss as Thad reached across Crandall to smack her. “Quiet!”
“You be quiet!” She hit him back and a fight ensued until the rowboat began to pitch and Crandall grabbed both their wrists.
“My stalwart crew and I —,” he tried again, eyeing each of them as the tiny boat settled, “— have traveled many leagues in search of you. Through the whirlpools of the Outersea, past the kraken of Ukelu, dodging the sailors of, uh … where are the sailors?” he whispered to Thad.
“Aptlanka.”
“Aptlanka!” The Pirate King grinned and settled into a debonair pose, doffing his feathered tricorn hat and leaning one hand on his sword hilt. “We’re here to rescue you.”
The High Priestess smiled benignly at her saviors and laid a bejeweled hand over her heart. “No, thank you,” she said simply and turned to disappear back into the Tower.
He deflated and grabbed the rail in thinly-veiled desperation. “What?!”
Will grinned. “Ooh, a plot twist.”
“It’s not so bad here.” The High Priestess shrugged just as the curtains behind her flew aside and the Emperor of Niktlin stormed onto the balcony.
In the treehouse, Lwaxana tapped a small holo emitter and the Emperor character Thad programmed burst to life beside her. He drew himself up to his full height at the rail and gazed down on the small rowboat with contempt.
Deanna raised an eyebrow. “He’s handsome.”
Will grumbled and drew her closer to his side. “He looks like Worf.”
“The Priestess is mine!” the Emperor called. “Leave now and I will spare your ship and your crew.”
“No!” The Pirate King handed his hat to the boy and stood firm. “She’s mine.”
“Actually, gentlemen, I belong to no man.”
“Yeah!” Kestra yelled from the rowboat, fists on her hips.
“Yeah!” Deanna raised her wine glass in solidarity.
“I can offer her all the finest jewels in Ardani,” the Pirate boasted, gesturing to the bounty ostentatiously displayed on the outside of his ship.
Beside him, Thad winced and sat down hard on the bench. Crandall and Kestra turned to him and he waved them on. Deanna and Lwaxana both sparked with concern, but Thad was back in their minds quickly.
It's okay. I’m fine.
The Emperor scoffed. “My gold mines can purchase your jewels ten times over.”
“I honor her with every league I sail.” The Pirate King laid a protective hand on the head of the figurehead, her gemstones refracting prisms on the water below.
“My armies will conquer any land she desires and ensure her rule over all.”
The Captain crossed his arms over his chest, the ruffles on his elaborate pirate coat rustling against his sleeves. He smirked. “I’m a real man.”
The Emperor crossed his arms in mimicry. “I’m so technologically advanced that —.” The holo winked at Lwaxana. “— I don’t have to be.”
“Damn,” Will whispered. “He’s good.”
Deanna squinted at her husband. “Did you help Thad program this?”
Crandall faltered. “But I — you —,” he sputtered and Lwaxana smiled as his jealousy floated around his ears. Crandall huffed toward the woods, then turned back to the treehouse. “I’ll let you redecorate my ship!” he yelled, surprising even himself. She quirked an eyebrow, suddenly interested. He meant it.
The Emperor laughed. “Your pitiful ship will never compare to my fleet!” The holo wrapped a massive arm around Lwaxana’s waist and drew her to his side. The Pirate King inhaled sharply. The water churned. The wind shook the trees. Birds flew from the canopy. The Emperor grinned, teeth gleaming like his armor. “I love her.”
“No!” Crandall roared. “I love her!”
Kestra gasped. Deanna’s wine glass shattered at her feet. Thad looked up, eyes wide. The waters calmed. The birds quieted. Nepenthe’s moons halted their orbit.
Crandall was breathing heavily, horror and relief flooding off of him in equal measure. The Emperor seethed and opened his mouth to retort, but Lwaxana tapped the emitter and he disappeared. “Well,” she said quietly, “I can’t argue with that.”
By the time she made it down the treehouse stairs and to the shoreline, the rowboat had arrived. Lwaxana splashed into the shallows and Crandall reached out to pull her aboard.
The High Priestess alighted on the deck of the pirate ship bearing her likeness wrapped in its Captain’s arms, white cloak against red coat. His crew scurried away to pull anchor and hoist the sail.
The rowboat pitched under the additional weight as Crandall took Lwaxana’s face in his hands and kissed her deeply. Lwaxana clutched his shirt at his waist and pressed herself against him.
Kestra yelled one sustained unintelligible sound and fell backwards onto the bench. On the dock, Deanna stood up for no discernible reason. Thad pretended to throw up over the side of the boat.
Will stepped up next to his stunned wife and took her hand. Eventually she squeezed it back. "They are kind of cute, aren't they?"
In the rowboat, Thad and Kestra peered around the older couple’s legs to grin at each other.
2396
The teenagers from Thad’s archery club were assembled around the clearing he had chosen, clad in the Ardani cloaks he gave them during the previous year’s championship tournament, wooden bows and quivers full of beautifully fletched arrows strapped to their backs. At the end of the service, they will string their bows and loose a torrent of arrows into a perfect circle around the grave, where they will stand sentinel, deeply embedded in the soil, colorful feathers dancing in the breeze, until well after his sister grows up and his parents return to the stars.
Deanna looked composed, but Lwaxana and Chandra Xerx struggled to contain her, churning black waters of despair rising around her legs, electric sparks of grief emanating from her chest. Will had an arm around her shoulders, clutching until his fingers went numb, afraid to let her go.
Worf and Alexander where there, stoic and honorable and proud.
Geordi. Poor, genius Geordi. His guilt-ridden thoughts of the synthetics he helped produce and consequently ban, swirling behind his ocular implants. What ifs and could haves his constant humming baseline.
Miles and Keiko and Molly and Kirayoshi.
Kyle Riker. Kate Pulaski beside him, a thin veil of abandoned possibility between them.
Wesley Crusher, clutching memories of Thad following him around Main Engineering on the Titan, trailing him through jefferies tubes, his little helper with his little toy tool kit, his imagination turning the small cold spaces into crystal-filled caves and haunted tunnels in mythical lands and turning Wesley’s monotonous work day into an adventure.
Guinan. Ogawa. Ro. Reg.
Crew and civilian staff from the Titan. Admiral Janeway, there as Starfleet’s representative, who never forgot Deanna’s small role in getting her crew home. Friends of all ages from Infinity Lake.
The shadows of Data and Tasha and Ian and Betty, ghostly escorts.
Her son Barin and his partner.
Odo, freed.
Beverly Crusher stood alone at the back of the clearing. Lwaxana worked to block out the doctor’s mental self-flagellation, her suffocating medical inadequacy, but mostly the thoughts of who wasn’t standing beside her. Instead, he hid himself away, behind stiff written condolences and years of isolation, cuticles stained purple with wine and regret.
Kestra stood in front of her, clutching Lwaxana's hand in stunned silence, as far away from her mother’s debilitating mental anguish as was appropriate. Kestra’s compass hung from her fingers, broken, pointing nowhere. Lwaxana’s other hand gripped Crandall’s arm, grasping it to her side.
He will ask her to stay with him tonight, a vacant look in his eye, a captain drifting, unmoored without his Number One, but she will go home with her family to care for them and lie awake all night in Thad’s bed with Deanna in her arms. Tomorrow, she will promise him, she will care for him. She will stand with him in his gray cabin and press her forehead to his chest and press her lips to his eighth star, crisp and new and pierced by an arrow.
2398
“Hi, Xanny.” Kestra rounded the table to kiss her grandmother.
“Hello, my darling.” Lwaxana ran a hand over Kestra’s bedhead. “Did you sleep well?” Lwaxana filled her juice glass as Kestra slid into her chair.
“Uh huh.”
Will wasn’t a Betazoid, just a human man, but she was a Riker and he knew that look. He saw the thought form in his daughter’s head as she stared into the depths of her juice glass, a small smile playing at the corner of her mouth. It grew across her face as she looked up and a pall of dread fell over Will. He knew what she was going to say and he knew he should stop her, but he was still an explorer at heart and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to see what was going to happen. Kestra’s smile reached her blue eyes and her head tilted innocently to the side.
In reality, Kestra had only waited one perfect comedic beat. “Did you?”
Crandall choked on his eggs, but Lwaxana just laughed, a bright joyful sound in the morning stillness. She smacked Crandall on the back as she deposited Kestra’s plate in front of her.
"Of course," she said with a wink and Kestra rolled her eyes.
Will chanced a look at Deanna beside him, still gripping the bannister. She was watching her mother with the faraway look of empathic work in her eyes, so he kept quiet. Finally, she turned to him. “She’s really happy.”
“Ew, Imzadi.”
Deanna punched him in the arm.