Previous Next

They Want You (Chapter Six)

Posted on Dec 09, 2018 @ 1:33am by Ambassador Xana Bonviva
Edited on on Dec 09, 2018 @ 1:33am

Mission: Blue Planet



Location: EARTH
Scene: Paris
Time: Six months ago

Once, here in this city, he had been going places.

He had done all the right things. Joined Starfleet; studied hard; made friends with all the right people. Dedicated himself to the future of Starfleet…

Then the future lost.

Leonard Jacoby was supposed to be in his glory now, having helped Edgerton and the rest of the Essentials. Or, worst case scenario, at least died in a blaze of glory.

Instead he was standing on a pile of rubble trying to figure out what to do next. Justice was served; he turned Federation’s evidence in exchange for a reduced sentence; time served. Most of the players were dead anyway; the few that were left were swept up.

And Leonard Jacoby had his rank striped, was dishonorably discharged, spent a little time in SING SING II, and then was set free with some civvies; alone in the universe. Even in prison he was ostracized, set apart due to the nature of his crimes. That was fine; no one went to prison to make friends. It gave him time to think. He supposed he was repent and ask for forgiveness. In a manner of speaking he did; just not in the way that the Federation expected.


Location: EARTH
Scene: Bonviva Villa
Time: Current Day

Xana Bonviva sat alone in her den, back from her travels. Ostensibly she was supposed to be compiling reports; there were several that sat on her desk that needed her attention. The one on rebuilding EARTH was foremost. Then there was the one on the upcoming threat to the Federation by the BORG; however, even Xana didn’t believe that...she felt it was really something else. Of course as the Bolian Councilwoman, she had other reports for the Federation and the good of the Bolian people she had to attend to.

Instead she was sitting up in her desk chair, eyes closed, head leaned back, exhaustion nearly taking her under. She was doing the internal debate of “five more minutes, gods” for the last twenty-odd minutes. Even she was getting exhausted by her own semi-conscious debate and was on the verge of getting some tea when she heard something else that woke her up.

Her kids fighting outside.

“Ben, stop pouting.”

“Not pouting.”

“Yeah, that really looks like it.” There was a long sigh before Xana heard her teenage daughter continue on. “Look I just asked if you wanted to send a message to your dad. I know you’ve convinced mom you’re sending them but I know you’re not. At some point Jake will tell Mom he hasn’t heard from you.”

“That would mean Dad has to check his messages and send one back. I’m *fine*,” Ben shot back. “Go ahead and send him a message, waste space, Dahlia.”

“He’s busy, Ben, we’ve talked about this.”

“Everyone is busy,” Ben said. Xana then heard a distinct *thunk* which she hoped indicated a ball thrown against a wall. “Mom is busy.” *Thunk* “You’re busy.” *Thunk* “I’m busy.” *Thunk* “Nana and Nonno are busy,” he continued on referring to Xana’s parents. Two more *thunks*. “The entire universe is *busy*.” *Thunk* *Thunk* *Thunk* “I get it. Busy, busy, busy.”

“Booger, what are you busy with?” Dahlia sighed.

There was a long silence before Ben replied. “I help Mom.”

“I must have missed that in 3rd grade where negotiating intergalatic trade and peace deals was on the curriculum,” Dahlia replied dryly.

Xana got up quietly in the den and leaned quietly against the door, wondering quietly what her youngest’s reply would be. Dahlia was right, Xana had been so busy that she hadn’t noticed that Benito stopped sending messages to Jake. But clearly something was holding her son back.

“Nooo,” Ben replied still throwing the ball around. “But I help Mom with her meds. Who do you think put all the colors on them? And I made a chart for her so she knows when to take them. Oh! The medicine at night that makes her sick? When she’s here, I make sure to give her food so she doesn’t throw up anymore.”

Leaning against the wall, tears welled up in Xana’s eyes. Initially the diagnosis of Xana’s terminal disease had frightened all of her children, so she sought to demystify it. Gavi and Dahlia mostly ignored the disease, as if not acknowledging would make it go away. Erika, when she was home, and Benito wanted to help. Erika was older, though, and could better handle it. Benito thought he was responsible for her...and he was only 8.

Wiping away the tears, Xana walked out of the den and out to where her children were. “It’s almost dinner,” she said. “I’m thinking pizza tonight.”

Nodding into the kitchen she fired up the stove as she got out the dough. Working it with her hands, she waited until she heard her kids come in; they knew for pizza night they had to help if they wanted to eat. As Dahlia got out the sauce and Ben grabbed the toppings, Xana asked, “Any homework I need to review or sign?”

With that they settled into their normal nightly pattern of dinner and family discussion of school and work. By the time the pizzas were out of the oven; 3 people could not agree on toppings so it was 3 individual pizzas for them (extra cheese for Benito, extra meat for Dahlia, and veggies for Xana), Xana said easily, “Do I need to contact your school for any outstanding tests or anything?”

Dahlia and Benito looked at each other; they had moved around enough to know what this meant. “Are we leaving?” Dahlia asked. “Wait, let me just jump to -- *when* are we leaving?”

“I don’t know,” Xana said.

“But I like EARTH,” Benito protested while sticking out his lower lip.

Dahlia rolled her golden eyes. “I’d like a brother who didn’t pout all the time but we all can’t get what we want.”

Xana raised her eyes to the ceiling in a silent prayer for patience. “So, anyway I don’t know when or if we’re going anywhere,” she said ignoring her children. “My assignment on EARTH was temporary. Besides the fact, at some point I imagine your father will want to see you.”

That declaration was met with a stunning amount of silence. Enjoying the moment Xana ate her pizza.

“Has Jake contacted you, Mom?” Dahlia finally asked.

Placing the pizza down on the plate, the Bolian/Human woman chose her words carefully. “No,” Xana conceded. Dabbing her mouth with a napkin she said, “But I know he’s been very generous to me with all this time and I know he’s missed you--”

“How do you know if Jake hasn’t contacted you?” Dahlia pointed out.

Thinking on what she wanted to say Xana finally settled on, “You don’t have to contact someone all the time to know that they love and miss you. And I know that’s true for him.” There was some quiet at the table before the mother continued on, “So when he has some time I’m sure--”

“Dad’s very busy,” Benito explained. “He can’t see us.” Shoving more pizza in his mouth he said, “Besides I’m more of a planet guy.”

“You’re a planet guy. You’re the kind of guy whose shuttle isn’t firing on all thrusters,” Dahlia snorted.

“What’s that mean?” Benito challenged.

“Tell Mom the real reason you don’t want to see your Dad!”

“I know,” Xana sighed leaning back in her chair, realizing her attempts at trying to be sneaky with her children were going nowhere. Holding up her hands she said, “I heard you both earlier.” Ignoring their glares she said, “Benito, we don’t lie to each other in this house. You can lie to the universe, but we don’t lie to this family. We can’t have each other’s backs if we think someone is lying to us.”

“Mi dispiace,” Ben muttered as he slid down in his chair, the tips of ears turning dark blue.

“Hah,” Dahlia replied triumphantly as she grabbed her drink.

Xana glared at her daughter before continuing on. “Yes, your father is busy. And yes, I’m dying,” she said on an inhale, noting that both of her children suddenly became uncomfortable. “But let me remind you both...Jake could die anytime too, because he’s the first out in the dangers of the space.” There was a long pause before she said, “And I think that you would want to spend time with him too. Because he’s your father and time is precious.”

Her youngest son looked up at her, his eyes so much like his father’s. “You don’t need me?”

The mother swallowed the lump in her throat. Grabbing his hand and his sister’s (quickly before she could snatch it back) she said, “I need you. Both of you. I’d love it if all my children were with me all the time. But I wouldn’t be anywhere a good mother if I didn’t let you go be with others who loved you.”

The siblings looked at each other and seemed to share some silent communication before conceding something. “Ok, so tell Dad I’ll come. Dahlia you’ll come too,” Benito nodded as he wiggled his hand out.”

Dahlia began to clean up dishes. “Don’t forget when you take us, Mom--”

Wait, she had to contact Jake Crichton? And see him again? “No, it’s fine, kids; you just call him and tell him that maybe Aunt Iphie or Uncle Horatio will meet him--” Xana smiled her best politician smile.

As they were cleaning up the Dahlia and Benito started to laugh. “Good one, Mom,” Ben said.

“Really, Mom, even I wasn’t expecting that,” Dahlia grinned. “Developing a sense of humor in your old age? Aunt Iphie? Uncle Horatio?”

“What’s wrong with my brother and sister?” she asked.

“Last time you asked them to look after us one lost us in a poker game and the other used us to pick up women,” Dahlia pointed out.

Ben dumped the dishes in the recycler and said, “I still don’t think those Kazons would have done anything, Dee.” Shrugging he said, “And someday maybe we’ll get an aunt out of our attempts of helping.”

When her teenage daughter just raised an eyebrow at her Xana inhaled, “I didn’t say it was it was a permanent solution.” When that clearly went nowhere she tried, “Your grandparents.”

Ben blinked at that. “Nonno won’t leave the restaurant and Nana doesn’t do work,” he said referring to Xana’s mother. “Plus last time she traveled the Customs agent said Nana was a menace to the galaxy.”

“She is,” Xana sighed agreeing with her son. “Fine. You have other grandparents.”

“One set who won’t leave a farm,” Dahlia pointed out, referring to Gene’s parents. “And other who are travelers on a mining vessel,” referring to Jake’s parents. There was a beat of silence before Dahlia backed out of the kitchen. “Tell Jake I said ‘hi’!”

“I’ll send a message to Dad eventually but I say ‘hi’ too,” Benito said as he followed his sister out of the kitchen.

Sitting back in her chair, staring out into the space of her kitchen, the only thought that Xana had was that she had been played well and true by her kids. Because now she had to call her ex-husband and at some point take their kids to go see him. “Damn it,” she muttered.


Location: SS GAMBLER
Scene: Casino Deck
Time: A few nights later

Leonard had screwed up. That was his only thought as he sat on a dilapidated ship that had no destinations, with the internal atmospheric conditions slightly too warm. Sweat dripped down his temple and in his armpit. He had planned it all so well, the initial meetings in the Delta with the former crew members and recruits from the BORG, then moving it to ELANDIPOLE but now...well now it had gone to shit. So he was going to start over before his new benefactor--

Another figure then sat down at the poker table. Leonard barely gave her a glance as he kept switching his glare between his chip meter, the view out the window, his whisky bottle, and his cards.

“I’m in,” came the accented voice next to him.

He had heard that voice, in person, only once before; years ago. Turning around he looked to see a tall blue woman, with white hair, wearing a black jumpsuit cinched with a wide black belt. Finishing up the look was a white cowboy hat that was tilted back on her head.

She totally ignored him. Instead she looked at the cards with casual disinterest, waiting for her turn.

Sighing Leonard looked at his cards, his pot meter, and back at his cards. Putting his cards down, he pushed forward 4 cards face down, “I’ll take 4 cards.”

“You’ll fold,” the woman said.

Leonard scowled at her. “I said I’d take--”

The woman leaned back in her chair and smiled at the dealer. “I think it’s your break,” she said firmly, yet quietly. Once the dealer left she said, “I have trip aces and you’re discarding four cards.” There was a quiet at the table as they both stared out the window. “Darling, I’ve made a life out of reading people’s faces. It’s the only thing I’m good at. I know the room by the way the way they dart their eyes. So let me have some whisky and I’ll talk about it.”

Leonard sighed, passing over the whisky without looking at the woman. Bonviva smiled at the bottle, uncorked it, titled back her head and finished it off in one long gulp.

“That was my whisky,” Jacoby protested.

The Bolian/Human woman smiled. “Good stuff,” she replied by way of a “thank you”. As a waiter passed by, she grabbed a bowl of pretzels from it with a smile. Setting that in the middle of the table she said, “Now with poker, as with other things, you need to know when to hold ‘em and when to fold ‘em. You have to be able to walk away when you can and don’t bet with your heart.” Lost in her own thoughts momentarily she finally said, “I’ve bet with my heart before, and sometimes you win, but more often than not you just wind up losing your heart.”

Edgerton’s former right hand man quietly sat in the shadows.

“Every hand is a winner and any hand is a loser,” she said thoughtfully. “You just have to know what to play.”

Leonard still didn’t say anything, he just absentmindedly played with a card while listening and looking out the windowl.

“The one saw that,” Bonviva mused. Picking up a pretzel she twirled it in her long fingers. “That was good.”

“You want me to say ‘thank you’,” Leonard replied.

Popping the pretzel in her mouth she said, “Darling, I’ve got a teenage daughter and quite frankly her sass goes on for days, so please keep going if you want to abuse the oxygen.”

“That doesn’t impress me,” Leonard replied.

“You’re not impressing me either so we’re even right now,” she smiled. There was a long beat before she said, “Edgerton was that good, huh? He convinced you that much?” Looking over she asked while leaning on the table, “Look I’ve had loyal staff who’ve followed me for years, but no one ever wanted to started a coup.”

There was a long silence that was only pierced by the announcement: [[We are entering ELANDIPOLE’s space. In five minutes our next stop will be ELANDIPOLE Customs. Please gather your items if you’re going to disembark at ELANDIPOLE.]]

“No one ever starts a coup by themselves. Not even Edgerton did that,” Jacoby pointed out.

Xana thought about that and nodded at that. “I’ll give you that hand,” she mused. Her long fingers danced on the edges of a playing card, “He was good at recruiting, finding those with sympathetic tendencies.” Pausing she continued on, “But anyone with tendencies was rounded up, or died.”

Leonard looked over at her incredulously. “Do you really think ideas just die? And how hard do you think it was to get those who were not rounded up, those who were discarded like me, to join in?” Leaning in he said, “Or those who are in power in your precious civilian government, in the highest level, to assist? Do you really think I did this on my own?”

“No, I didn’t think you did,” Xana replied.

Suddenly the table was surrounded by Starfleet uniforms being led by a Ktarian woman with blonde hair pulled back in a bun whom Xana recognized as Sio’s Executive Officer. “Fascinating story,” Commander Summer Namaah said neutrally. “On behalf of the Federation, we’re bringing you in for conspiracy to overthrow the Federation.” Nodding her head to the Security officers who began the formalities of arresting Leonard Jacoby, over his protestations, Commander Namaah then nodded formally to the Bolian/Human woman, “Councilwoman Bonviva, thank you for your assistance in this.”

“Welcome,” Xana murmured to Siobhan’s Executive Officer. Once the officers and Jacoby were taken away to the BENAZIR BHUTTO in the familiar blue haze, Xana sat alone at the table playing again with the playing cards.

“I feel conspicuously over dressed,” Siobhan grumbled as she sat down in the seat recently vacated by Jacoby.

Xana spared a glance to her friend who was in her ‘Fleet uniform. “No one told you to come in your uniform.”

“I’m working,” Sio pointed out. “And I’m here because *you* called *me* explaining that you had a lead and needed a brig.”

“Yes, and speaking as your former Security officer I hope that you appreciate I called you this time,” Xana replied.

“Why do I answer the comm when you call?” Siobhan muttered. Flipping over Jacoby’s hand she mused, “Xana, you only had trip aces.” Showing his hand she said, “He had a royal flush.”

Xana looked at the hand. “He would have won,” she muttered. “He was acting like he was going to lose. He was sweating, glancing all around.” Thinking back she said, “Then he asked for 4 new cards.” Looking at her friend she said, “Siobhan, he was nervous but not about me. I surprised him. He was expecting someone else here.”

Siobhan looked discreetly around as she whispered, “I only have limited jurisdiction and that’s while we’re in Elandipole space--” Suddenly Siobhan’s comm beeped and she tapped it. “Reardon here.”

[[Ma’am, this is Commander Summer,]] came the voice of the Executive Officer. [[You need to come back as soon as possible.]]

“Councilwoman Bonviva and I will be back shortly--” Siobhan explained.

[[Ma’am,]] Summer said interrupting her, [[Jacoby is dead.]]


NRPG: Sorry for the delay, I stopped for a bit due to RL and writer's block. But now next chapter, this time ending on more of a cliffhanger.

Leonard Jacoby was referenced as Edgerton’s lackey/sidekick in some old posts (namely “I Have Killed Better People Than You” and “Confessions”). To the best of my searching he was not referenced to have been killed off so I presumed to have been shuffled off to prison but I more wanted to explore the concept of how ideas really don’t idea; at best they warp over time, as they did in Leonard’s brain. He took the concept of neo-Essentialism and took it to the next level (recruiting a faction of the Borg) to try and start something.

But now Jacoby is dead so now who else (in the government and other places of power) have this idea? :)


Sarah Albertini-Bond
~writing for~
Councilwoman Xana Bonviva
Bolarus IX

“There is no gambling like politics.”
-Benjamin Disraeli



Previous Next