Star Trek - NF - 11 - Restoration

by Restoration(lit)

  She was trying to hold on to the moment. "Do you... want me to come with-"

  "No." He said it too curtly, too abruptly, but there was no call-ing back the tone of his voice. Still, he tried to soften it as he re-peated, "No... Moke's inside. You'd... best tend to him. I think... that would be best for him. And you. And us. We... each have our responsibilities."

  He rose and walked away from her as quickly as he could. He didn't glance behind himself even once, because he knew that she

  was still going to be there. And if he looked at her at that moment, he would be back to her and in her arms, and then there would be no going back... anywhere. To anyone.

  He stayed out in the shed for a long time... long enough, he hoped, for Rheela and Moke to go to sleep. He considered staying out in the shed, but felt that it would be unfair to Rheela if she happened to be sitting up, waiting for him. So, after a number of hours, he crept stealthily back into the house... and, sure enough, there she was, seated on a sofa, doing needlework. She had cleaned and dried herself up from the rain earlier, and was now looking at him with cool-eyed assessment. "I thought you were going to be staying out there all night."

  "I thought about it," he said. He hesitated a moment, and then said, "Rheela..."

  She waved it off quite casually. "No, no... you don't have to say anything, really. It's all right. I..." She chuckled lightly. "I let myself get carried away by the weather. That happens some-times. I shouldn't let it." Her hands had still been moving in al-most automatic fashion over the needlework, but now she set it aside as she continued to look at him. "She must be very fortu-nate."

  "She who?" Calhoun said, puzzled.

  "She, the other woman... whoever she is." She smiled gamely, although she looked a bit sad. "The one you saw when you were looking right through me."

  "Was I?"

  "Ohhhh, yes. Yes, you were." She sighed. "What a strange pair we are, Calhoun. Only weeks ago, I was terrified of you. Now, I'm practically attacking you... and being disappointed when you don't have similar feelings for me."

  "I do. I do have similar feelings for you," he said slowly. "But I..."

  "You what?"

  He let out his breath, slow and steady. "I don't think... they're feelings born out of anything real... other than need...."

  "Need isn't real?"

  "It's not enough. Not for... not for people like us. People with obligations. Rheela..." He looked down. It was a remarkable ex-perience for him. He had faced down all manner of menaces, had taken down armies. But there was something about the simple, open nature of this woman that caused him to trip over his own sentiments. Or perhaps it was less her... than what she repre-sented. "Rheela... I'm..."

  "Just passing through."

  "Yes." He nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm just passing through. And if you and I go in the direction that I think we were heading... I won't be able to pass through anymore. And that's not going to be good for you... or for Moke. Because, sooner or later, fairly or unfairly... I'm going to resent you for it."

  She leaned forward and took his hand in hers. He was surprised by the roughness of her palm. "You've known women before, I assume..."

  "On occasion."

  "And did you always have difficulty attaching nothing less to passion and attraction than a long-term relationship?"

  "No. Not at all." He laughed deep in his chest. "I had opportu-nities, and took advantage of them... and never felt a thing. In fact... I spent a long time... not feeling anything. I... shut myself off, because it was what I needed to do to function. To do what needed to be done..."

  "What needed to be done, Calhoun?"

  He couldn't think of how to answer that... and so he said, sim-ply, "Everything."

  "Everything. I see. And how do you know when you're fin-ished?" There was a teasing tone to her voice, but also a certain degree of genuine interest.

  He smiled sadly. "When you die."

  "Oh," was all she said, very quietly. She looked at him for a

  time, and she felt her eyes tearing up, but quickly wiped them away. Finally, she said to him, "You know what? I'm still glad you're here. Whatever you can give me... and whatever I can give you... well... that'll be just fine."

  He drew closer to her then, and put an arm around her shoulder, and stayed there until the sun rose in the morning.

  SHELBY

  shelby, lost in thought as she sat in the ready room, didn't re-alize that Garbeck was standing in front of her until she heard the loud clearing of her throat. At that point, she wondered just how long the first officer had been standing there., Garbeck gave no in-dication of that, of course. She was too highly trained an officer for that, and wouldn't dream of intruding on her captain until such time that her presence was acknowledged.

  "Contemplating suicide, Captain?" she inquired.

  It seemed like an exceptionally bizarre question, until Shelby remembered that she was holding Calhoun's sword. She allowed a small smile. "That is the traditional remedy for failure, isn't it?" she asked. "Throwing oneself on one's sword. It's the ultimate way of taking responsibility now, isn't it?"

  "Failure?" Garbeck looked genuinely puzzled. "You haven't failed,..." She paused Captain. If anythingand then drew herself up straight. "If anything," she said firmly, "I'm the one who's failed."

  Shelby stared up at her, flummoxed. "You, Number One? In what respect?"

  "In what respect? Captain, the simple fact is... you were right."

  "I was unaware the fact was as simple as all that." She gestured

  for Garbeck to take a seat, which she did, looking very stiff and formal as she did so.

  "Captain... your instincts were correct. That's the harsh truth of it. My contention that we had no right to interfere with the sit-uation on Makkus hinged on the concept that the indigenous life form-the bugs-had developed the disease they were carrying all on their own. But we now know that wasn't the case. And since it apparently involved attempts by another race to exterminate the Makkusians, that certainly would have fallen within the parame-ters of permissible involvement, even under the Prime Directive. But I was..." She cleared her throat. "I was bound by rules and regs, and didn't see that which was painfully obvious to you."

  'There was nothing painfully obvious about it, Number One." Shelby shook her head. "I'd be lying if I told you that I had some great instinct that there was more to the infestation than I was ad-mitting. All I knew was that I wanted to help those people. The regs didn't matter to me at that point... which was kind of as-tounding to me, considering how much they mattered to me when I was... well, when I was in your position. In any event, it doesn't matter. None of it matters anymore, I suppose."

  "There's no reason to give up at this point, Captain," Garbeck told her.

  "Actually, there is, and you know the reason as well as I. Hau-man has informed me, in no uncertain terms, that he doesn't want our help."

  "Well," sighed Garbeck, "that's that, I suppose."

  "Yes. Yes, it should be."

  There was silence for a moment, and then Garbeck said briskly, in an endeavor to return to business, "Just a reminder: Starfleet has informed us that we are expected at the reception on Nimbus n in three days, as part of the welcoming ceremony for their join-ing the Federation-"

  "I thought we could leave a negotiating party," Shelby inter-rupted her. She wasn't even looking at her directly. She was sort of looking off into the distance, talking as much to herself as she

  was to Garbeck. "I mean, that seemed a logical thing to do. I knew that we had to head out to Nimbus shortly, so that our time here was going to be brief. But I thought that, if we left a negotiating team behind, perhaps something could be worked out between the two worlds. But Hauman looked at me as if I was this small," and she put her fingers to within a millimeter of each other, "and he said, 'How are you supposed to negotiate with someone who is trying to kill you? Do you say, "Stop trying to kill me, please?" ' And all I could think of to say was, 'It's a start.' " She shook her
head, discouraged.

  "Captain, if there's one thing they taught us at the Academy, it's that a Starfleet captain can do anything..."

  "... but not everything," finished Shelby ruefully. "Professor Tambor. I remember him all too well." She got up, and Garbeck reflexively started to do the same. But then she saw that Shelby was lost in thought, pacing the room, so she sat back down again. "There has to be something we can do. Something."

  "There isn't, Captain. Nothing that occurs to me, and certainly nothing that's within regs. We have orders that say we have to be elsewhere, and we've no choice in that matter. Elsewhere is where we have to go. In fact, we're already running late on that, since Starfleet did not factor in our time in returning to Makkus. We should be able to make up that time rather easily by pushing the warp engines a bit-nothing drastic, just a bit. But we can't-"

  "Garbeck... there's something you're going to have to learn about me, and the sooner you learn it, the better off we're both going to be."

  "And what would that be?" asked Garbeck.

  "I don't do well with 'can't.' "

  "Captain, no one likes constraints. No one enjoys being told what they can and cannot do. But limits are just a part of reality, one that we all have to accept."

  "He never did."

  "He... ?" She rolled her eyes. "Of course. Calhoun. No, Cap-

  tain, he never did. Did that, in your eyes, make him a good offi-cer?"

  "Once upon a time, I would have said 'no' so quickly it would make your head spin," said Shelby. "Now... now I just don't know."

  "Captain..." And she lowered her voice in a confidential, even urgently friendly tone, "Elizabeth... you can be a far greater captain than Mackenzie Calhoun ever was. All you have to do is be a better officer."

  "See, that's the thing, Alex. A better officer... isn't necessarily a greater one. I'm beginning to think that true greatness comes from somewhere outside the box, you know?"

  "I know. I don't agree... but I know." She hesitated, and then said, "Shall I order best speed to Nimbus, Captain?"

  She turned to face Garbeck. "A negotiating team might still be able to-"

  "Captain... we can't," she said firmly. "You know that as well as I, so I should not even have to tell you. We simply can't, and there's no way to dodge the Prime Directive on this one. We've hit the limits of what we can do. And now it's time to move on." She hesitated and then added, "Isn't it?"

  "Yes. Yes, I suppose it is." Shelby had stopped her pacing, and she picked up the sword that she had laid down on the desk. She replaced it in its mounting on the wall. "Inform McMac that they should take us out of orbit. Set course for Nimbus."

  "Aye, Captain."

  "And, Garbeck..."

  "Yes, Captain?"

  Shelby smiled ever so slightly. "I know you were trying, in your own way, to make me feel better. You didn't succeed... but I do appreciate the effort."

  "Not a problem, Captain. I'm sure that, given the same circum-stances, you'd have done the same for me." And she headed to-ward the door, leaving Shelby to ponder the fact that, if it had been Calhoun in the captain's chair, there would have been no

  need for easing of one's personal pain or frustration. Because Cal-houn would have gotten the job done, dammit, and that would have been all there was to it. And there would have been Shelby, shouting at him about the rules that he'd bent or twisted or broken, while Calhoun just stood there with that confident smirk that used to drive her insane, but now she missed as much as if a piece of herself was missing.

  Would she have done the same for Garbeck? Probably. But for Calhoun? He wouldn't have needed it. And if he didn't need it...

  ... why the hell did she?

  For that, she had no answer.

  "Captain... with all respect..." Garbeck was pausing at the door.

  Shelby braced herself. Any sentence that started out with those words never came to any good. "Yesss... ?"

  "You might want to try to get some sleep. You look exhausted."

  Shelby laughed at that. "Kind of you to say so, Number One. I appreciate the concern." And the truth was that she had been sleeping fairly poorly lately. "I'll take it under advisement"

  "Good. Wouldn't want you at less than full capacity if we find ourselves in the middle of a battle."

  She didn't bother to tell Garbeck that some of her most inven-tive and daring exploits on the Excalibur had come when she was so looped that she hardly knew where she was. Somehow she didn't think that would add much to the luster of her reputation.

  RHEELA

  "ma! look! look!"

  Rheela was feeling in a particularly good mood as she came in from having harvested some of the liquid crops. The plants had been especially generous, providing her with a goodly amount of juice that she would be able to bring to town and trade with. She had decided to get an early morning start on it, and was pleased that she had much of the rest of the day remaining to her to head into town. Not only that, but it was surprisingly cool, thanks to the strong and steady wind that was gusting off the plains. She could feel it in her bones; she would be able to produce rain again quite soon, perhaps even today.

  "Look at what, Moke?" she said, trying to contain her laughter in the face of such uninhibited exuberance. He literally could not stand still as he bounced back and forth in front of her. "What do you want me to look at?"

  "That!" he said, and he pointed to the shed. She saw where he was pointing and then gasped in amazement.

  Calhoun had just emerged from the shed, and he was rolling a very familiar device in front of him. He was grinning lopsidedly, in a self-satisfied manner that was quite evocative of Moke.

  "It's a sailskipper! We built it! Mac and me! We built it!" Moke

  kept saying the same thing over and over, apparently under the impression that Rheela was stone-deaf and wouldn't hear it the first fifty times.

  "You built it!" she said, with that tone of approving wonder that came instinctively to mothers throughout the galaxy. "You and Mac? Together!"

  "Together!" Moke said emphatically. "From spare parts of stuff we had lying around."

  It certainly did appear cobbled together. It wasn't remotely as slick and of a piece as the sailskipper that she'd seen Tapinza pi-loting. But it was an impressive achievement, nevertheless.

  "We're going to go out and ride it! The two of us! Mac said we could!"

  She looked at him but he was already ahead of her. "No, Moke," he corrected gently. "I said that if it was okay with your mother, we could ride it, the two of us."

  Naturally Moke didn't hesitate an instant. "Is it okay, Ma? Is it? Is it?"

  Fortunately, Rheela knew better than to try and stem the tide of enthusiasm that was gushing from her son. "Yes, yes, fine. I was going to head into town, and I thought you might want to come along. But if you don't want to-"

  "No! I wanna go with Mac!" said Moke, and then added "Pleeeease!" after Calhoun loudly cleared his throat to prompt the boy that something further should be said.

  "I see that resistance is futile," she said with a laugh, and then caught an odd expression on Calhoun's face. "What's wrong? Is it something I said... ?"

  He forced a smile. "No. No, not really. Just... your saying that reminded me of something, that's all. Nothing to concern yourself about. So!" He clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. "Shall we take a whirl at it, Moke?"

  Moke needed no further urging. Encouraged by the steady wind, he ran to the sailskipper and clambered aboard. Calhoun did likewise, shoving the vehicle forward with a strong thrust of his

  leg. The vehicle creaked loudly, and for a moment Rheela thought the entire thing was going to be torn apart just from normal use, but it held together admirably. Within moments, Calhoun and Moke were zipping away, accompanied by a high-pitched howl of joy torn from her son's throat.

  She shook her head. "Men," she said in amusement, deciding that the male of the species continued to be unfathomable at any age. Then she climbed aboard the luuk
ab and headed into town.

  She was actually surprised when her arrival was not only greeted positively, but enthusiastically. She had barely climbed down off the luukab when she suddenly found herself surrounded by eager townsfolk with looks of hope on their faces. More of them were as-sembling with each passing moment, looking almost relieved that she had shown up. "Is there a problem?" she asked, a bit confused.

  It was Praestor Milos, master of extraordinary timing, who was heading across the street toward her and took the opportunity to reply to her query. "Not a problem, now that you're here, Rheela," he said cheerily. "How goes matters with you?"

  She was about to reply, and then she saw Maestress Cawfiel in the crowd. The Maestress was saying nothing, but the glare from her seemed vicious enough to burn her alive, if that were possible. She forced herself to ignore the ferocity of the woman, and in-stead focused on Milos. "They go fine," she said cautiously. "I'm pleased that you are so concerned, and would you kindly tell me what's happening...?"