Chapter Text
My cabin is the same and not the same. The furnishings are a mix of those I’ve had for years as well as unfamiliar pieces. Their arrangement is slightly different; the main room is tidy yet looks perpetually lived in rather than the ultra-neat appearance of a residence visited only during infrequent leaves. Outside the tall windows views of trees, fields, and mountains are unchanged and welcomed. It’s good to be here.
Voices drift from the back of the house. “I’m grateful your parents away,” a female voice remarks, “I’m not ready to meet your father. I’m still deciding on the right outfit. I need to look serious and professional and capable.”
“He’s just Dad to me. That is who I want you to meet.”
Dad? echoes in my thoughts. Who lives here now?
“Just Dad?” she asks in an incredulous tone. “There hasn’t been a Fleet Admiral in decades, not since the Romulan war a century ago. And he turned it down! Five stars! That’s … it’s unheard of.”
“I get who my father is,” a male voice answers, “but here, at home, he’s Dad. You aren’t nervous about meeting my mother.”
“Sure, but she’s not … wait, you made breakfast?”
From my vantage point where the entry, stairway, living room, and kitchen intersect I see a young woman sitting at the large wooden table. After placing two plates on the table, her companion leans down for a kiss then says, “My father taught me a gentleman always stays until morning and he cooks breakfast.”
I enter the room. Neither notice me. I clear my throat.
The owner of the male voice looks up and his eyes grow wide. “Uh, Dad. You’re back … a day early.”
My thoughts tell me his name is Ethan. “Yeah.”
He blurts out, “Mom’s with you?”
“Yes.” Favoring my son with a sideways glance I ask, “Are you going to introduce me to your friend?”
“Ah … yes … of course … this is Mary. I’ve mentioned her before. She starts Starfleet Academy this fall.”
Mary grabs the sides of her robe and holds them close together as extra insurance.
I nod in greeting. “Nice to meet you, Mary.”
“Thank you, sir. I mean Captain, I mean Fleet Captain, I mean Admiral,” Mary stammers as she blushes.
“Titles aren’t necessary. Besides, I’m retired from Starfleet. Chris is fine.”
Mary speaks in a rapid, nervous tone. “Yes sir. I mean, no sir. I mean … I read you left Starfleet to take over running the Red Cross Alliance. Why?”
“It was time for a change,” I reply.
“You’re back early,” Ethan repeats with emphasis.
“I borrowed a shuttle.”
Ethan raises one eyebrow, communicating his doubts. “Borrowed?”
“Borrowed,” I reaffirm in a definitive tone. “Where’s your sister?”
“Geoffrey’s in the barn.”
“OK. But that doesn’t answer my question. Stop deflecting,” I say.
“She’s … not here,” Ethan finally answers.
“That much is obvious,” I respond with forced patience, though I’m certain they hear the hint of annoyance in my tone.
Mary stands. “I’ll … get dressed.” She darts out of the room.
After she departs Ethan says, “Thanks for being cool about this … me and Mary that is.”
“You’re an adult and make good choices most of the time. But your sister is a teenager, her choices are frequently impulsive, she … needs closer supervision; and you have yet to satisfactorily answer my question,” I prompt while unblinkingly holding my son’s gaze.
“She spent the night with a friend.”
“Which friend?”
“One of her girlfriends, I think. She should be home soon.”
I exhale in a huff. “Next time I’d prefer you know the details. It’s one of the responsibilities of being the eldest which balances the perks of being the eldest. And Mary is welcome to stay tonight.”
“I like her … a lot.”
“Excellent, and I remind you said the same about Mike six months ago. You and he were inseparable.”
Ethan grins, flashing his dimples. “Yeah. Turns out that was purely physical. Mary … with her … it’s more.”
“You’re twenty-one and starting medical school in a couple of months. She’s nineteen and starting at the Academy. Slow it down for both your sakes.”
Ethan adopts his most serious expression before teasing, “Is that a suggestion … or a command? Mom says you ordered her to marry you.”
“Your mother embellishes. I gave her a choice …” I return the grin with a slight smile. “Sort of.”
Our conversation is interrupted by the sound of a loud motorcycle pulling in front of the house. “Is that …” I start to ask before sprinting to the front door and wrenching it open.
“Yeah,” Ethan finishes, “Sienna’s here. With Mark. Heaven help us all.”
Sienna climbs off the back of the motorcycle and shakes her hair loose after removing a helmet. She rolls her eyes when Mark revs the engine again. When he leans in for a kiss, she turns away and shakes her head clearly communicating no.
And sees her scowling father standing in the doorway, eyes narrowed in exasperation, arms tightly crossed over his chest. Sienna then places her hands on each side of Mark’s face and kisses him. The kiss is the opposite of chaste, her mouth grinding into Mark’s; his arms slide around her waist.
I call out in a loud unamused tone of voice, “Sienna.”
She kisses Mark again, slowly, this time running her hands across his chest.
Her mother, having heard the noise and joins me at the door, shakes her head slightly and puts a hand on my arm, preventing my intended intervention. I give my wife a withering look. While waiting for Sienna’s attention, I contemplate ways of restricting my daughter she cannot metaphorically punch or kick her way through. Or maybe not so metaphorically, I muse, envisioning a shield around the house and grounds. One only I control. A strong one. There has never been a boundary she didn’t challenge. Starting at age three. Or was it two? I try to remember. No, sooner. The minute she started crawling. I should have built a dungeon for the inevitable onslaught of horny teenage boys.
Sienna inherited my height, dark hair and blue eyes, and her mother’s delicate frame and beauty. She moves with the grace of a ballet dancer and possesses the strength of an elite athlete. Mark roars off. She greets us on the way inside, “Mom. Dad. Have homework to finish.”
“We’re going to talk about this later,” I promise in a stern tone as she rushes up the stairs and out of earshot.
“Whatever,” she answers back.
I turn to my wife who links her arm through mine. “What does she see in that punk?”
“This isn’t about Mark. She doesn’t truly like him. This is about dating someone you don’t approve of. If you pretend to like him, she will quickly lose interest.”
“I thought parenting would be … more straightforward. Ethan and Geoffrey never rebelled to this extent,” I point out.
“True. Sienna craves independence. And she is still figuring out who she is. Balancing that is hard for someone her age.”
“Explain again why we agreed she could start dating at fifteen?” I ask.
“She was going to with or without our permission. I prefer knowing where she is and who she is with while we still have some influence over her. And she will be sixteen in a couple of months.”
I mutter under my breath, “I never should have bought her that hula-hoop.”
The amused reply is, “Yes dear.”
ooooo
I wake suddenly and reach for the other side of the bed. It’s empty, Aalin’s taken the overnight shift for communications so another can start leave early. There’s no reason to stay put. Lately, when she’s not by my side at night, I dream without ceasing … that’s wrong … the doctors tell us we always dream … rather I remember and relive every detail. A few are pleasant, like this last one; most aren’t.
Tomorrow our leave begins. Which means … that reality crashes with a heavy thud … which means this may be my last night on board my ship. On board any Starfleet vessel as a member of the service. I consider walking the ship … but no, I have no wish to once again tour the extensive damage wrecked on Enterprise fighting multiple battles with Control and its remnants. Better to remember her as she was when whole.
No, I’d rather be on the bridge. Typically I wouldn’t take the late shift conn and rattle a skeleton crew of junior officers, yet … after donning a fresh uniform I head there.