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Paris, Bokitu, And The Stars Above

Posted on Oct 15, 2017 @ 12:49pm by Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Oct 15, 2017 @ 12:49pm

Mission: Aftermath

Paris, Bokitu, and the stars above


Location: VULCAN

Scene: Bonviva Home

The morning after the gala there started like any other. It was not a school day; so the kids were still in various states of pajamas while playing videogames, reading, and chatting with boyfriends/girlfriends. Xana wandered out of her bedroom, with her cream colored robe belted around her, and watched her kids just be kids. Leaning against a wall she held the steaming mug of tea close, enjoying the warmth.

When the doorbell rang, all three kids swiveled around their heads to the door and then to their mother. “Well the Tribbles aren’t going to answer it,” she pointed out.

After that there was a scurry of *who* was going to answer it until all 3 kids, with the Tribbles, showed up to fling it open. A tall, blue bald, bifurcated man stood there. Wide enough to block the sun (at least from Ben’s point of view) he still had the build of the linebacker that he was, but he was wearing scrubs indicating that he was a doctor.

“Uncle Horatio!” the kids yelled as they mobbed him.

The man grinned as he hugged them, allowing them to lead him inside. Once he settled and they got the food out (as there was always lots of food whenever there were Bonvivas around) Erika finally got around to asking what the kids were thinking. “Uncle Horatio, why are you here?”

Horatio, who was in the middle of eating a large breakfast sandwich, some potatoes and had some orange juice on the side as he eyed a plate of cookies he asked, “Who says I need a reason to visit my favorite nieces and nephews?”

Dahlia pointed out. “We’re your only nieces and nephews.”

Horatio took a long gulp of oj while looking at his sister, then put the drink down. “Then I definitely don’t need a reason then.”

“But we’re not sick and you’ve said that’s when we’re interesting,” Dahlia pointed out. “You came when Ben was in the hospital for cytotoxic shock, when I had Romulan pox, when Gavi had Ankaran flu, when Erika came down with Hutzel infection--” Looking over at her mother, the Bajoran/Bolian/Human teenager’s face dawned with recognition, “Oh. It’s because of mom.”

Horatio rolled his eyes as he got up to go grab some cookies, and in the middle of doing so rubbed Dahlia’s buzzcut hair. “Hate to burst your bubble, kid, but I’ve known your mother my entire life, and in spite of popular opinion, she’s *never* been interesting.”

Ben ignored all that and went running up to Horatio. Coming close to Horatio’s plate he asked, “Can I have a cookie?”

“Horatio doesn’t share,” the large man said with a wink. Looking down at the Tribbles who had seemingly coalesced at his feet he said, “I don’t care if all the Tribbles in Tribble-dom smother me, I’m not sharing with you either.” Pointing to the plate with the other cookies he said, “Every anklebiter gets their own.”

Ben laughed at that and said, “Uncle Horatio, tell me again about the scar on your hand.”

Xana rolled her eyes at this. “Really, are we doing this again?”

Horatio grinned and rolled up his sleeves and made a fist with his right hand, “Gather around and hear why sisters are evil.”

What happened next was the same fight that Xana and Horatio reliving for roughly 30 years -- which had started over a cookie that Xana had stolen from Horatio and ended with Horatio punching a glass door. “I can’t believe I let you near my children,” Xana sighed exasperatedly at her younger brother.

“It’s either me or Iphie.” Horatio grinned. “And when they start punching each other, I know what to do.”


Later on that night, long after the kids went to bed the siblings were still up enjoying a drink and snacks. “Really you or Iphie?” Xana asked.

“Iphie is on the Phoenix and I just got an adjunct professor job at the Vulcan Science Academy. That should get me major sibling points,” Horatio pointed out. “All because of my eldest sister.”

“You told me it was because the Commendation went to shit after Anaqueen was gone,” Xana shot back.

Horatio sighed at that. “Well not everyone is going to be an Anaqueen Spankryz, that’s for sure,” he sighed. Polishing off some sambuca that they had broken out after the kids went to bed, the former linebacker turned doctor crossed his legs and gave her a look. “Look, you think Starfleet is going to give me leave because I hated the S.O.B. who was CO? No. That I had family reasons? No.” When Xana said nothing Horatio got up to get himself another drink, “Don’t tell me I answered Mom and Dad’s annual call for nothing. Even they said you needed help.”

The Councilwoman said nothing to that, ignoring the helpless feeling swirling inside her. “I told you the kids would ask why you’re here. And you didn’t need to do it now.”

“Yeah I did,” Horatio nodded. Popping a chip in his mouth he switched from annoying younger brother/uncle to doctor. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having leg tremors?” When Xana didn’t say anything, the doctor sighed. “I’m guessing you didn’t say anything because you can’t always feel your legs. Now it’s not obvious, but it could be someday. Look, I agreed with you. The kids need to be comfortable with either Iphie or me on a regular basis. They saw Iphie only on holidays and me when they were sick. It has to be more than that now. It’s a good plan.”

The Councilwoman sighed; he wasn’t wrong, but she didn’t want to admit it. Looking at her brother she asked, “Do you even know Vulcan? And “Hey, baby, is it Pon Farr?” isn’t what I mean.”

“That totally counts,” Horatio scoffed. “So what do you feed the Tribbles?”


Scene: Outside Federation Council - next day

He could have given the speech in the Federation Council, but that wouldn’t have looked anywhere near as good. Yes, he had to politick for his colleague’s votes, but this speech was also for the cameras.

So as the sun was setting, the aged Andorian Councilman stood on the steps of the Federation Council by himself. At the bottom of the steps were the media, his colleagues but anxiously awaiting was Councilman Betello of Zakdorn and Councilwoman Bonviva from Bolarus IX.

“Are you sure I can’t have a brandy?” Betello sighed.

Xana glared. “In front of the cameras?” she muttered.

“I’m too old for this shit,” Betello muttered as he heaved himself up.

There was the normal flurry of activity as people gathered to watch the spectacle. The azure woman watched as the Andorian Councilman walked up to a simple podium; paused as if he was finally feeling the gravity of the moment before starting to speak. “We are on a precipice. We are getting ready to elect our next President of the Federation, and here comes another politician asking for your vote for that office. But what does that mean? The words they will speak will become history. Their words have the capacity to rise the tides of prosperity and the still waters of war. At these moments, the Federation has carried on not simply because of the skill or vision of those in high office, but because its people have remained faithful to the ideals of our forebears, and true to our founding documents. So it has been. So it must be with this generation of Federationers.

“That we are in the midst of crisis cannot be denied. The Federation is at war; not against an enemy we can fight with all the torpedos in Starfleet. No our war is far more insidious. Our war is a our collective failure is to make hard choices and prepare the Federation for a new age. The challenges are real. They are profound. But know this. The Federation has always met every challenge it’s faced and it will meet this one too. On this day, we gather because we have chosen optimism over inactivity, over the easy out.

“Starting today, we must pick ourselves up, dust ourselves off, and begin again the work of remaking the Federation. We owe it to Paris, Bokitu, and the stars above. The great seal of the Federation shows the wreath wrapping around the stars but it is not complete; because our work is not complete. Today, together, we can get closer to completing it. By remembering that we cannot come closer by forgetting anyone in the Federation. For if anyone is left behind, then we’re all behind. We all move closer or we all fall behind.

“You’ll notice that up until now the words “I or me” were not used. That was not an oversight but rather intentional. That’s because the Office of the President may be held by one person but it’s held in trust for all of the Federation. This is about all of us, not about one person. Not even for the President,” Councilman Kevak finished off with soft confidence.

With that there was a moment of silence as if the crowd didn’t know what to do with themselves before there was a swell of applause and the media began yelling questions.

Betello leaned over and couldn’t contain his jowls from shaking with glee. “Thoughts?”

Xana looked over at her fellow Councilmembers; she saw Gavaar and Karimi duck out, along with Garshor on their heels. “I think we did well going first but it should be interesting to see what Karimi does next.” Smiling at Betello she said, “Don’t get too excited, we still have the debate and I know Karimi will do well.”

“Enjoy this. Besides, Kevak might seem nice but even he can get dirty. I hope,” Betello said of his friend. “Nice line about Paris, Bokitu and the stars that you got in.”

Xana thought about her home planets and the stars she still stared at with a wistful longing; how her heart was always torn. “Thank you.”


NRPG: A little bit of family (Horatio, Xana’s brother, comes to help out with the kids) and Councilman Kevak, of Andoria, declares his candidacy for President of the Federation.


Sarah Albertini-Bond

Councilwoman Xana Bonviva - Bolarus IX

In a presidential campaign, you can't lie. You can't hide what you are and what you want. You can't hide what kind of President you'll be. You can't keep on talking about nothing indefinitely and committing to nothing, you can't keep running away from debate, masking the challenges.

-President Nicolas Sarkozy (France)


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