Chapter Text
It was supposed to be easier, teaching rather than soaring through the galaxy. Yet, as the lead instructor in advanced tactical training, La’an Noonien Singh found her schedule stretched just as thin as when she was stationed on a starship. Some of this was by her own doing, many viewed the shift to academy instructor as a transition to retirement, minimizing their own effort and hoisting off as much work as possible to teaching assistants. La’an couldn’t sit by and allow that sort of thing to happen. Ever lesson plan was a perpetual work in progress on the never ending (yet noble) path to perfection, every student assignment she insisted to see with her own eyes. She liked staying busy, she like the predictable routine, yet the wholly unexpected existence of one relative threatened to upset her delicate routine.
Scheduling a meeting had been a challenge in and of itself had been a challenge, but any delays at least had given La’an time to review relevant files and fully consider the choice that lay before her.
KNOWN AUGMENT.
Years ago just seeing those words at the top of a personal record, even applied to someone else, might have cut her deeply. There was still a weight to it, especially considering the fact that she had recently learned that a painful piece of her past had been alive for centuries, living outside of the bounds of Federation records for a quarter century, and had a daughter who wanted to integrate into modern society.
Maya Noonien Singh had been eagerly open and compliant with the release of her records. She was the daughter of Khan Noonien Singh and Marla McGivers, her exact date of birth was unknown but estimated to be twenty four Earth years prior, and everything else was…complicated. Her legal status, her medical history, the details of her recent involvement in Starfleet affairs, it was all difficult to make sense of. Yet, La’an was her next of kin and offered to consider welcoming Maya into her own home…provided that she proved to be a good candidate for release to home arrest, and provided that she seemed agreeable enough to make such an arrangement tolerable.
The room where they met was bright, cold, and nearly empty, furnished only with a desk with chair on each side. La’an had arrived first, sitting in the edge of her seat with her back straight and rigid until Maya was brought in. Damn. She even looked like him, a bit like the man in the old photographs from the history books, but more like the young boy she had seen briefly in Toronto.
He was just a boy. A boy with a capacity to do terrible things. Similarly, Maya was a young woman with agency of her own that she, very recently, had used to do both altruistic and reprehensible things. When Maya was brought in, La’an couldn’t decide if she looked better or worse than the image in her file. She looked softer in her face, like she had gained weight in her time of rest and recovery, but there was more exhaustion in her eyes
“Maya.” La’an tried to sound warm and welcoming, but instead still sounded stern. What did one even say in a situation like this? She wished she could skip past the usual pleasantries, but cutting straight to business wouldn’t work in her best interest. The purpose of this meeting was to build rapport and to get a sense of what Maya was like as a person, beyond what the official records could tell her.
Maya sat down in the chair across the desk from La’an, but said nothing. If La’an had to hazard a guess, she might suppose that the young woman was equally as confused and uncertain about how to approach this interaction. La’an imagined there was always a degree of awkwardness in discovering, well into adulthood, unknown branches of your family tree, only most people didn’t also have to wrap their heads around several centuries of separation and the jarring knowledge that an ancient dictator had been secretly alive all along.
“I suppose it might come off as disingenuous and insensitive if I ask how you’ve been doing.” La’an continued,
“Only if you’re expecting the usual short, polite response.” Maya’s voice was soft and hoarse. She didn’t only look tired, she sounded tired too.
“Actually, I’d appreciate the candor.” La’an leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “I think transparency is important, so tell me, how are you really doing?”
Maya hesitated before answering, leaning back in her seat and thinking for a moment. “You know, you remind me of him.”
A shiver went down La’an’s spine. She sat up straight and her eyes opened wide. For years she thought she had made peace with the unpleasant parts of her family history, and while she expected to have that peace challenged throughout this process, she hadn’t expected it to be so blunt. A lifetime of convincing herself that she wasn’t like him, and now she sat across from someone who could tell her in great detail what she had in common with her infamous ancestor.
“Don’t panic like that,” Maya added. “I only meant in the way you speak, like everything is so heavy. It’s hardly a trait unique to him, if that makes you feel any better.”
La’an took a deep breath to regain her composure, but her posture was still stiff and alert. “Well, I hope the similarities end there. But, please, tell me how you’ve been.”
Another pause as Maya thought. “Where even to begin? It’s been months, but I still haven’t recovered fully from the virus. I have free range to learn and study to better myself, but little energy to do it. All I can tolerate are the daily counseling sessions that leave me feeling worse than when I started and the physical therapy for my shoulder, which is deceptively strenuous.”
“Unfortunately, these things often get worse before they get better.” La’an knew all too much about this topic. “Healing from trauma is messy. Trust the process.”
“Trust the process! How many times have I heard that? I didn’t realize I was supposed to be hurt over most of the things I’ve lived through until someone sat me down and told me it was traumatic. I used to think my life was perfectly normal.”
“Maya, understand that I mean this respectfully…” La’an softened a bit. Her spine wasn’t quite so straight, and a little warmth found its way into her voice. “…but nothing about your life has been normal.”
Maya smiled and shook her head. “I used to think it was normal, but every day I learn more ways in which my life has been so strange and isolated. I wish I had more strength to study. My education is full of gaps, and my understanding of Earth’s history is not just biased but completely wrong.”
“I can only imagine.”
“My history lessons amounted to little more that detailed accounts of Earth’s despots over the years, their strengths, and their weaknesses that led to their defeat.”
“Everyone’s defeat but Khan’s, I presume.” La’an narrowed her eyes. All the warmth was gone from her voice.
“He wasn’t defeated!” Maya leaned forward, defensive.
“You still have biases you need to unlearn. Prioritize that.” A tense silence settled over the room. So quickly the conversation had turned from trusting to unfavorable. La’an didn’t want to end on a sour note. “I’m sorry. This journey is not going to be an easy one. Your name alone is going to be a burden.”
“I have a question for you.” Maya had backed down from her defensive posturing. “Of all the generations that led to you, why is it that no one thought to change their name?”
“I can’t speak for everyone, but i think it’s better to create your own legacy rather than the past define you.”
Maya sighed. “Growing up, everything was about legacy and ambition. I’m tired of it. I just want to exist.” A pause. “And it feels as though existing is all I’m going to be able to do, No one warned me about how limited my life would be as an augment.”
“Don’t give up so easily. Exceptions have been made.” The warmth in La’an’s voice was back.
“Is that how you got into Starfleet?” Maya’s tone was half teasing.
“Actually, no, I was thinking of someone else. I’m removed by enough generations that I couldn’t be considered enhanced.” It had occurred to her from the onset that getting involved in Maya’s life might mean living through another experience with shadows of Una Chin-Riley’s court martial. Years ago she accepted the morality of the Federation’s ban on genetic engineering and related restrictions without question, but reality, she found, had so much more nuance. “And maybe take a closer look at some of those regulations. You might be in a gray area, as someone who inherited enhancements instead of receiving them through a procedure.”
Maya’s smile grew. “I’ve been saying the same thing, but I think my health and recent criminal history will also limit my options.” Another pause. Maya looked down. “I shouldn’t complain. I’m safe. I’m being treated with respect. That should be enough.”
“Maya.” La’an spoke softly and leaned forward. “That’s the minimum. I think you can do better for yourself.” If given the opportunity, Maya could thrive. La’an had read the reports and felt her heart ache for Maya before they had even met: a brilliant mind stuck in a toxic environment where she could never reach her potential.
The two sat is silence for a while, nothing more to say. La’an was the first to speak again. “Unless you have anything else on your mind, I should be going. We’ll meet again next week.”
“So I haven’t frightened you off, then?” Maya teased.
“Not yet you haven’t.” A slight smile finally appeared on La’an’s face. “I’ve still got hope for you,”