Fulcrum

Posted on Mar 13, 2016 @ 7:40pm by Captain Siobhan Reardon
Edited on on Mar 13, 2016 @ 7:40pm

Mission: Promethean

“Fulcrum”
(Continued from “The Surly Bonds”)

=/\=

“There comes a time in each life like a point of fulcrum. At that time you must accept yourself. It is not anymore what you will become. It is what you are and always will be.”

-John Fowles

=/\=

Location: USS DEMETER
SD: 2.160229.2029
Scene: Bridge

Gamma Shift was typically uneventful. Most of the ship was asleep, and there was no need for the Secretary of Starfleet to be there, but she’d spent most of her nights there since the rebel force had rallied and turned tail for Earth to face Edgerton. As of late, she had been working straight through Alpha shift, then grabbing most of her sleep in the second shift before beginning the process all over again. Four to six hours was about as much as she could get, but she didn’t seem to be any worse for wear because of it.

After allowing herself a look at the expansive view of the stars and the ships accompanying them from a seat a few spaces left of the Captain’s chair, M-C turned towards the PADD she was in possession of and the reports it contained. Seeing how things fit into the larger picture was always a strength of hers, and it felt good to serve that need at such a critical time.

Shipboard life was not her strong suit. She preferred being planted in a place, or on a station, somewhere she could manage to make her view that from the center, and have all other things flow around it. But the leisure camp had been a prison, and only a few select individuals could function at a high level in captivity. She wasn’t one of them, although she unknowingly touched many others’ lives during that short stay. Marie-Claire Martine was not a woman who had regrets; but her thoughts turned time and time again to home, and the longing she had for it, and threatened to betray her workflow.

“Madam Secretary.”

She looked into Sardak’s passively logical face. The backlighting of the graveyard shift only accentuated his emotionless features and startled her more than it should have. “Sacré bleu-” she uttered. “Shouldn’t you be in bed, Mister President?”

“And yet you are also awake.”

“The peace and quiet gives me time to reflect.”

“Perhaps you are not the only one,” he admitted, taking the seat next to her.

“If it helps, I can assure you Admiral Marxx is running a very tight ship, or rather fleet of ships,” Martine said with confidence. “Edgerton was right about one thing- he’s as experienced and capable as they come.”

“It is… satisfying that he capabilities were not overestimated and that the truth of our purpose was revealed.”

‘Marie-Claire’s cobalt eyes widened. “If that’s not it, what’s troubling you?”

Sardak didn’t try to correct her. “Humanity.”

She put the PADD down and let her hands rest in her lap. “What about it?”

“We’re going to confront the Neo-Essentialists at the pinnacle of their control center- Earth. They are Humans who have already been serving in Starfleet, doing their best to manifest and destroy something so carefully cultivated and built upon hundreds of years of hard work, goodwill, and a desire to expand beyond the original conceptions of life. You don’t see Vulcans or Bolians trying to bring down the Federation.”

“Or Tellarites,” Martine added.

Sardak raised an eyebrow in agreement. “Correct. The greatest villans in Federation history have always been Humans. That begs the question, could it be possible that Humans have not changed as much as they think they have? That there is a plague, a rot in the soul of Humanity?”

The Canadienne visibly bristled.

“I have offended you,” Sardak offered in his matter-of-fact tone. “I assure you that was not my intent.”

She tilted her head, brushing strands of bobbed salt and pepper hair from her cheek. “No, you haven’t. You’ve just brought up a very sad and repetitive part of our history. It took thousands of years and multiple wars, both civil and global, before the many races and cultures of Earth knew that they were cut from the same patchwork cloth and needed to behave as such to achieve things beyond the petty and the xenophobic. But that’s the thing with us. Selfish interests and the belief that the majority has it all wrong are still very powerful motivators. Peut-être, it’s still too much to ask that we share the universe like good little boys and girls. Même maintenant. But, there’s something else you may not know,” she added.

“What?”

“For the first time in a long time, I mean, for some of these people, it’s been nearly two years… they have a sense of hope now that they didn’t have before.”

“An emotion, Secretary Martine.”

She smiled. “That’s another thing about us. You can build an empire on fact, on science and empirical data. You can build one on ego and misguided judgement. But you can also build one on hope. And I challenge you to find any of them less strong than the other. Except that the supply of hope springs eternal.” Marie-Claire rose from her seat. It was time for an early breakfast and some strong coffee. “I’ll see you at 0800.”

“Indubitably,” Sardak responded, still engrossed in thought.

Martine paused. “I do have one question for you, Sardak.”

“Yes?”

“If Humanity is the pox on all our houses, how do you explain Thoris P’Trell?”


=/\=

Location: USS CENTURY
Scene: Conference Room
Time Index: A few hours later

Siobhan and other Captains and CO’s met on the flagship on a regular basis, discussing both the state of the fleet and the methods being used to ensure readiness for the confrontation ahead. What had started as an uncomfortable and awkward reminder of the past, slowly became an opportunity to pick the brains of her contemporaries and observe them in their element. With each of them an extension of their ships, she couldn’t ignore the psychology of the situation and their leadership styles. When the future of Starfleet possibly hung in the balance, it was important to know who was in the ship next to you.

She’d set boundaries with Dex, putting up walls and keeping her intentions clear. And even though she stood by her decision, she was bothered. She was bothered by the attraction she felt that betrayed her desire to keep things professional. She was bothered by the situation they had been thrust into through no fault of their own, each minding their own lives, never thinking about the eventual intersection. Most of all, she was bothered that he had kept his word and not succumbed to the same feelings she was constantly pushing back under the surface.

The meeting ended, and the rest of them filed out in an orderly, gung-ho fashion, save the two of them. This had been a little pattern of theirs since the first conference. Sio got up to get them something to drink, but Marxx waved her off. “It’s my turn,” he said, grabbing iced coffee from the replicator. Mocha for her, vanilla for him.

Siobhan studied the man. She had made the effort to only talk half as much as he did, even though there were many times she forgot the endeavor and went off on tangents. Her rosy lips formed a smile when she realized they were both being unusually quiet. “This is just like old times.”

“In what way?”

“You won’t talk to the Counsellor,” she teased.

Marxx drank his coffee, then set the glass down. “Do you ever think about retirement?” He blurted out.

“Think about it? Hell, I’ve tried it a couple of times.”

“No, I don’t mean a desk job or a teaching job. I mean walking away from all of it, and not looking back.”

She looked into his earnest expression, and saw a shred of vulnerability behind the ever-present stoicism. Sio felt her face flush with unspoken thoughts. “Only if I had someone- or something, worth leaving for.”

If Dexter Marxx had recognized her intention, he didn’t express it. “You have a family. Son, Mother. Brothers. Sister in law. Niece. Wouldn’t you leave for them?”

Sio was a little surprised that he knew about her niece, since she had been born long after their separation, but she reminded herself he had full access to her personnel file for the duration of this mission. “Aren’t I supposed to protect them?”

“And you still think the Bridge of a starship is the best place from which to do that?”

“I have more doubts than I used to,” she admitted.

“But not enough to leave,” he finished.

“Not yet.”

He had gotten up and started pacing the floor. “I was retired. It was pretty nice. And I never should have come back.”

“Really?”

He yanked on his uniform tunic. “Starfleet has passed me by. I’m a dinosaur.”

“I disagree, you’re making too much of this.”

His violet eyes bored into her. “One person’s sympathetic opinion does not make a reality. I’m a wolf, but I’m an old wolf.”

“You didn’t know what Edgerton was.”

“All that matters is that I should have known,” he fussed.

She got up from her seat and joined him in the less formal area of the room. “Contrary to popular opinion, pride is not exclusive to Vegan men.”

“This is a different world than the one I left. Which means I was right to leave it.”

She held his hands, and leaned against him. “No, if you had stayed, you would have adapted.”

“You can’t teach an old wolf new tricks.”

“What about a fire jaguar?” She traced her hand along his strong jawline.

“What are you doing?”

“Something I should have let myself do the first time I saw you.” Without hesitation she cupped his face with both hands and brought it down to her waiting lips.

After a few seconds, Dex came up for air. “Wait,” he mumbled between kisses. “I thought we called a truce.”

“I was wrong,” she cooed, and he picked her up, bringing her closer and allowing her lips to crush into his.

“Sio?” He said in a muffled tone.

“Uh-humm.”

“I agreed with what you said, we shouldn’t do this.” He gently put her down, then lowered himself into an armchair near the window. While he had appeared to cool off, the firestorm of attraction she had stirred up was still dwelling on the inside.

Her reaction was as showy as his was restrained. She was blushing and unsteady. “Why is it so easy for you? How was it so easy for you to move on?”

“That’s not true, Siobhan.”

She sat in another chair, defeated. “Then how could you just… stop loving me? That’s how it felt, you know.”

“I never stopped. But the Great Wheel kept turning, and the weight of those times couldn’t be carried forward. It’s time you let go of them too.”

She laughed, but it was a brittle, ingenuine version of a response that used to sound like a melody to him. “My God, I’m so stupid.” Her eyes were wet with unfallen tears. She got up and walked away, not wanting him to see, all the while knowing he could.

He followed her. “Why do you say that?”

“I’ve tried so hard to show you I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’ve developed. That I didn’t need you to be successful. But I failed to acknowledge the same in you.”

He cradled her body gently in his arms, treasuring her warmth. “It is only something you can truly see when you are standing in the same light. The midday sun lights your path still. I am shrouded in twilight.”

“Has your vision gotten bad, too? I’d say it’s more like 3pm where I stand.”

Dex laughed. “I think you’re exaggerating, too.”

“I wanted your love, but I knew I had it. But I also wanted you to be proud of me. Your approval. You were not only a man to me, a great love, but a mentor. And I lost all of that when you left.”

“You’ll always have the approval you seek from me, Sio. But you must understand, you don’t *need* it. You never did. As much as you believed in our love, believe that too.”

“Our love is still present tense to me. I still believe in that,” she said stubbornly while clinging to him. “Just because I think you might be right doesn’t mean I’m going to flip a switch and make it all disappear.”

“You think I’m right?”

“Don’t get smug. *Might* be right.”

“I’ll take those odds.”

“Dex, Is it wrong to want a companion, someone to share your love with, your life with, and your bed with, knowing there’s a part of yourself you’ll never be able to give them, because the ship already has it?”

“Of course not. We did that, for a time.”

“I wanted forever.”

“We can’t always get what we want.”

Sio pulled away, patting Dex on the chest. “There’s something I want, well, I need.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“I need to ask you for a favor.”


=/\=

Location: USS ZHUKOV
Scene: Reardon’s Quarters
Time Index: That Evening

“Mom?”

“Mom.”

The fork fell out of her hand and clattered against the plate of pasta, the noise being enough to stop Siobhan’s sleepy daymare and focus on Drey’s attempts to get her attention. “Ah, sorry Hun, what did you say?”

“Maybe you should get some sleep?”

She looked at her barely touched food and over at her son. He was calm, but worried.

“I’m exhausted,” she admitted. “But I doubt I’m going to do anything other than lie awake and think.”

“You think too much.”

Reardon managed a rueful grin. “It seems that it comes with the territory.”

“So you won’t make a mistake?”

Sio shook her head. She wished it was that simple. “So, hopefully, your mistakes won’t cost people their lives.”

“All the crew has done is run drills and holodeck simulations since the fleet left. The ZHUKOV has to be ready, Mom. She’s not the biggest ship, or the most important, but she’s ready. Worrying won’t change anything other than dull your reactions and reflexes when you need them most.”

She perked up a little. It was obvious he had been observing as much as he could aboard ship, and studying the Academy entrance materials. “When’s the last time you ran an escape drill?”

The half Supai young man didn’t even blink. “Ten hours ago.”

“Good. I want you practicing that at least once a day.”

Drey stifled a sigh, running a pale green hand through his brown hair. “We’re gonna be fine, Mom.”

“Hope for the best, prepare for the worst.”

“You worry even more than you think.”

“And knowing you have a way off this ship if something happens is one less worry for me. Humor a Captain, would you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Siobhan nibbled a breadstick thoughtfully. “We need to talk.”

“Isn’t that what we’re already doing?” His green eyes held a hint of amusement as he continued to shovel it in like a trencherman.

“If something happens to me,” she began, “I need you to promise me you’ll do something.”

“*Nothing* is going to-”

“Okay, okay, it’s all going to be right as rain. Hunky-dory,” she placated. “But if the shit hits the fan, I need your word.”

Ondrej Reardon relented, putting his fork down. “What?”

“Do you still want to go into Starfleet?”

“Yeah.” He nodded.

“Then I want you to seek out Admiral Marxx. Offer to intern with him at every opportunity. Spend vacations and school breaks with him and his family. If Edgerton somehow retains control after all of this, I want you to train on Vega IV as part of their militia. Maybe you won’t be able to become a Starfleet officer, but if the Neo-Essentialists are in charge, that really wouldn’t be Starfleet… not as we know it.”

“*The* Admiral Marxx? The head of the fleet?”

Sio nodded.

“Are you nuts? He doesn’t know who I am.”

“Actually, he does.”

Realization spread across Drey’s face. “Why would you tell him about me? There have to be a million more important things.”

“My Son, you are important to me. And I want to know someone is there to take care of you, in a different way than Gran and Uncle Stephan and Uncle Sean could. Look who’s worrying now.”

“How long have you been thinking about dying in a Neo-Essentialist siege? Shouldn’t I get some time now that I know you’ve been bragging about me to Admiral Marxx?”

“Too much time. A lot has been wasted with me thinking about what I hope is a long delayed inevitability. But it’s not as long as I’ve known Dexter Marxx.”

“And how long is that?” The young man asked with rapt attention.

“We met over eighteen years ago. The ODYSSEY. He was an ExO then.”

Drey let out a low whistle, doing the math. “You must have been fresh out of the Academy at that time.”

“Pretty close to it,” she admitted.

“What was it like?”

“It was an exciting time. Frightening too. When you grow under a combination of intense pressure and strong command, it changes you. Mostly for the good. And Dexter Marxx, he’s a good man. Hardworking. Stubborn. Hand to hand combat on the highest level. You could learn a lot from him.”

“I don’t think you’re being entirely honest with me,” Drey said, taking a few more hasty bites of his food.

She tried to act nonchalant, but came across more flustered than anything. “Okay, sport. Why?”

“I’ve never heard you mention his name before, and this isn’t the first time by a long shot that you’ve told me about Starfleet. Why were you hiding such a ‘great influence’ from me?”

Reardon looked up from her plate, chewing, apologetic.

“Mom?”

Siobhan sighed. “This didn’t start out as a way to hide things from you. It’s just that this was so long ago, I didn’t think it would be relevant to you. But now, where we are, the conditions we’re under, and Dex’s return to active duty, has drawn things together in a way I wouldn’t have known could exist.”

“You’re speaking in riddles.”

“I’m a parent. Sometimes that happens.”

“C’mon Mom. In Terran terms I’m an adult now. And even if Earth explodes like a fireball, I’m not going anywhere with him until you explain what he is to you and why you trust him so much, when just a short time ago he was completely snowed under by Edgerton and ordering our surrender.”

“Dexter Marxx is my ex-husband.”


***
NRPG: Thank you, Jerome!

Susan Ledbetter
Playing the field with...

Marie-Claire Martine
Secretary of Starfleet

Captain Siobhan Reardon
USS ZHUKOV