If The Fates Allow
Posted on Jan 01, 2016 @ 2:55pm by Captain Siobhan Reardon
Edited on on Jan 01, 2016 @ 2:56pm
Mission: Promethean
=/\=
“If the Fates Allow”
(Continued from “Opportunity Knocks”)
=/\=
Location: USS Demeter
SD: [2.15]1221.1912
Scene: Conference Room
There was an uncomfortable pause after Kane exited the room, leaving Marxx and Reardon alone on the ship that housed the Federation Council. If there was any place that could be considered neutral territory, this was it.
Dexter Marxx cleared his throat, finally allowing himself to take a long, unflinching gaze at his ex-wife. She appeared to reciprocate, but the truth was she hadn’t stopped looking at him since they had arrived.
He seemed fit and as trim as someone of his build could be. Time hadn’t stood still for any of them, but the traces of the years were small and forgiving. Outwardly at least, she didn’t feel like she was looking at a stranger.
Sio found herself searching for something in his chiseled features that she couldn’t begin to define. Was it closure? Common ground? To forget? But, instead of any of those things, there was an overwhelming sense of relief to know the man hadn’t changed as much as his sudden reappearance as leader of the Neo-Essentialist attack force had led her to believe. Thoris P’Trell’s betrayal, on top of what she thought had been Marxx’s, had left her unsure of her perceptive abilities. The selfless transmission of data by Selyara had cracked things wide open. Too bad breaking the ice here wasn’t as easy. She once more sought solace in his violet eyes, and she was almost sure she saw the same uncertainties reflecting back at her.
Of all the ways she had expected they’d meet, and for all the times she wished he would appear before her out of thin air, she couldn’t bring herself to talk. Then it would be real. After a little more internal wrestling, she knew she would regret silence far more than anything she might say. Besides, it didn’t appear as if Dex would accept her retreat.
Dex watched her face as it went through a series of somewhat veiled expressions. “What?” he said, unable to wait any more.
“I suppose Congratulations are in order,” she mused, rising from the table.
He groaned a little. It was absolutely not a time for celebration. “Sure, give the old man a pat on his back.”
“From sworn enemy scourge to Admiral of the fleet in one day. That’s impressive, even for you,” she continued, grabbing some frozen lemonade from the replicator. She set a plain one in front of him, and a pink-hued raspberry variety she claimed for herself. “Besides, I can’t call you old. You’re only three years older than me,” she reasoned.
“‘Enemy scourge’? Have you been hanging out with pirates?”
“You haven’t met Captain Sly Kinderman yet,” she said quickly, puckering at the taste of the icy drink. She regarded his still serious countenance. “Maybe I should call you the crimson scourge.”
“Then you’re the scarlet peril,” he replied without missing a beat.
“I deserved that.”
“So… What have you been up to lately?”
“*That’s* your opener?”
“By the All-Father, Sio. Cut me some slack.”
“I was just wondering how long you expected this meeting to last.”
Marxx sighed. “It has been a while.”
“We’ve been leading our own lives a lot longer that we were ever together.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe just the highlights, then? You have every right to tell me to ‘go to hell and read the damn data file’, but I’d rather hear it from you.”
“The Avalon. Ambassador to Arkalia IV. The Anzio. Teaching at Starfleet Academy. Serving aboard the Pandora. Back to the Academy. The Zhukov. Here.”
His exasperation was palpable. “Slack, remember?”
She smiled gamely. “I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed that look on your face.” She leaned in, explaining a little more. “As many times as I thought I was done with ship duty, something, or someone- keeps pulling me back in. I even took my son with me, probably against my better judgment but-”
“You have a son?”
“Yeah. I think you’d like him. ”
“How old is he?”
“Chronologically he’s almost six. Physically and mentally he’s nineteen or so. He’s half Supai.”
Supai. Supai. The race sounded vaguely familiar. Marxx’s brow furrowed. “I know I’ve heard of them.”
“They were a promising new pledge for membership to the Federation. But that was before they decided to perform genetic experiments. Drey was a child created from my DNA and that of a Supaiian scientist.. I didn’t know he existed for about three years. And when I found out, I assumed custody immediately, hightailed it back to Earth as soon as I could, and got a teaching job.”
“Out of harm’s way?” Dex asked with reverence.
“For a time. But when two Secretaries of Starfleet and some time travelling clone named Drake tell you it’s your destiny to be back on a ship, you begin to believe them.”
“What about Richard Edgerton?”
“Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of meeting the man. He seemed to think I wasn’t on his side, though. He sent me to the Trill homeworld as the potential fall guy for a breakdown of negotiations, and by the time we figured it out and made our way towards Elandipole, we were all over the news.”
“I’m sorry, Sio.”
“For what?”
“For believing the lies.” Pride goeth before the fall, indeed.
“I’m just glad Kane’s people could set you straight before… well, *before*.”
“Before the shooting started.”
She nodded. “I’m sorry too.”
“Why?”
“For trusting Thoris. If I had known of his true intent I would have knocked his block off.”
Dex smiled and it was like a beam of sun splitting the cover of heavy clouds. “I have no doubt.”
Reardon looked down into her melting drink. “There’s something else.”
“Sure, what?”
“I’m sorry- I keep fighting every urge to yell at you.” Her emerald eyes were shadowed.
“Go ahead. I can handle it.”
“All that time ago, and I still can’t shake it... You divorced me long distance. Then, I find out you’ve retired from Starfleet, but not from you, of course. Did I mean that little to you?” Sio wasn’t yelling yet, but her voice was laced with bitterness.
Dex gazed at her over his steepled fingers and the condensation of his lemonade glass on the table. “If I had said goodbye to you in person, I don’t know that I would have been able to leave.”
Siobhan’s voice broke and she stood for emphasis. “And would that have been so bad? Being a Captain’s husband? Or an Ambassador’s husband? *My* husband? We would have been together… *all* of us.” His children had to be pretty much grown by now.
“I don’t have to remind you that you had the opportunity to be a Captain’s wife.” They were both standing now.
She smacked her hand on the conference table and recoiled in surprise at how hard she had hit it. “That’s not fair, Dex. You helped me train for command certification. Did you expect me to throw all that away?”
“No. Would you expect me to sublimate my experience and be a house husband? Whether or not I wore the uniform, the expectation from others would be there.” Marxx moved towards the window where one could see the mobilized fleet, as if the view would help clear his head.
“No,” she relented, answering his question, trailing after him.
“The Locusta predestined that we would be married. That’s it. They never promised anything about ‘happily ever after’. And the whole thing could have been fabricated by them in the first place.”
Siobhan was incredulous. “You think they were trying to keep us infatuated with each other so they could gain more of a foot hold in this universe?”
“The way you say it makes it sound improbable.” Dex examined her earnest reflection in the transparent aluminum as she walked over and stood in front of him, leaning back into his torso.
She guided his arms around her, seeking comfort. “I suppose a psionic suggestion could have been faked somehow. But you and I weren’t. We were *real*.”
“We mix like oil and water,” he scoffed.
She turned to face him, looking sharply upward to try and meet his expression. “I remember it being more like gasoline and an open flame.”
“I know this is strange, but it feels like we’re back at square one. Starting over.” He was close enough that he could smell some kind of floral fragrance lingering in her auburn hair.
Reardon sighed. “It’s just another chapter. Careers first. Each not wanting to tie the other down or expecting the other to wait for them.”
“But here we are… is it fate?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“I’m asking.”
“I’m not sure I want to believe in a fate that would keep us apart this long and then make you at first my enemy, and then my boss.”
They both laughed, supporting each other in a friendly embrace. A stray curl of copper hair had fallen across Sio’s face and Marxx reached down innocently to brush it out of the way.
The side of his hand accidentally touched her cheek, and stopped giggling and lifted her chin, enjoying the sensation a little too much. She felt a searing need awaken under the spell of Dex’s restrained strength. “Please…”
He could feel her trembling in his arms. How long had she been shaking? “Are you afraid?”
“No…. yes. No.”
Marxx grinned. “A little flustered, Counsellor?”
She pressed her hands to his muscled chest. “I’m not afraid of you. I’m afraid of what we’ll do if we keep going. Please... don’t.”
“Is there someone else?”
Images of James Barton flashed through her mind. “It’s none of your damn business. But yes, there have been... *opportunities* for a someone else. But I never let myself take the chance.”
“Devotion to duty doesn’t replace love.”
“The same goes for you... And it’s not a replacement. It’s a choice.”
“You can’t say you don’t have feelings for me.”
“My feelings are irrelevant,” she blurted out. She hadn’t liked Kane’s words earlier, and she sure as hell didn’t like them now as they spilled out of her own mouth.
“But they’re *real*, Siobhan.”
She moved away from him, guilt etched into her face. It was too hard to think in the haven of his arms. “So is our mission. We both have jobs to do. This isn’t going to help with any of that. Do you remember any of the media circus, the whispering behind closed doors at the power couple of Starfleet?”
His consideration was brief. “I don’t care.”
“We both want the Neo-Essentialists brought to justice. I want Edgerton’s head on a platter. More than I want you in my bed.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’m not asking you to. Just honor my request.”
He simply stared at her, his mouth slightly gaped.
“Dexter Juraj Marxx, promise me,” she said sternly with watery eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he protested weakly.
“Then promise me, dammit.”
“I can’t promise you forever.”
“I’m only asking for the mission.”
“Then what?”
“I don’t know,” she pleaded.
He hung his head. “Okay, Siobhan.”
“Thank you, Dex. I have to leave. I’m sorry.” She darted out the door.
He sank into the nearest chair. “Dismissed,” he said to the empty room.
=/\=
NRPG: Thanks for the pep talks, Marko and Jerome!
Susan Ledbetter
Writing for
Captain Siobhan Reardon
CO
USS ZHUKOV
