Chapter Text
The young blonde shifted in her chair, fighting against the urge to try and catch that always errant lock of hair from falling out of her regulation academy bun. “…I’m just an engineer. I-I’m not even an engineer yet, I’m just engineering track , I-”
“Your aptitude tests are off the charts in certain areas that certain areas of Starfleet are in desperate need of.”
“And what areas would those be? I’m studying to be a glorified mechanic ! That is where your aptitude tests firmly put me for the last 6 months.”
“So you thought.”
Her eyes narrowed and she did finally defiantly break parade rest to tuck the lock of bangs back behind her ear, not even trying to shove it back where it went in the bun. “So it seems you wanted me to believe.” She shot back.
The older man smiled darkly at her, all teeth, but in a strangely reassuring way. “Which is exactly why we want you on our team.”
“Your top secret, Starfleet special ops… unit?”
“Basically, yeah.”
Her young, unwrinkled, and unblemished face scrunched in thought, brown eyes hesitant but considering.
“You’ll have to work on that poker face,” the man in the dark dress uniform that she had never seen on anyone before, chuckled.
“Excuse me?”
“I can see you’re considering it. That gives me an upper hand. You can never show your opponent your hand.”
“So you’re my opponent?”
“At some times I might be.”
“I don’t even know your name.”
“You won’t know many, in this organization.”
“You act as though I’ve already accepted.”
He chuckled again, “you have.” He stood. “Like I said- poker face. I know you’re lying through your teeth. You know exactly who I am.”
“I admit, I thought you’d be older, being so high up, Captain Marcus. Honestly pretty bold to admit that someone in your position, climbing the ranks, is involved in this. Especially to a lowly freshman."
He shook his head, pursed his lips. “Nah,” he countered. “See that’s how I already know you’ll say yes. You’ve said yes. How else would you know who I am? What ranks I’m climbing? You went to a STEM school, you graduated early, your logic aptitude rivals some of the Vulcan members in our ranks.”
“Vul-”
“You may be an engineering track student but you have a special interest in intelligence you can’t hide. Your extracurriculars are all advanced- hand to hand combat, interrogation, intelligence gathering, computer analysis…”
“You sure seem to know my academic record well.”
“We've been watching you for quite some time.”
“And what is that supposed to tell me?”
“That we want you. And that’s me dropping my poker face. You can- and will- be a true asset to us, Cadet Davis.”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat for the first time.
“If it’s all the same to you, sir… if we’re going to do this, you should know I prefer Winona.”
“So you’re an engineer?” Her date asked.
He was cute, vibrant blue eyes and softly swept back blonde hair.
She nodded, sipping her drink, thinking of the exact words she was told to say about her future assignment and academic career. “I’m a technical engineer. I’ll spend my time on computers instead of warp cores,” she shrugged. “I’m a bit boring.”
“So what do you do with the computers? You’ll just go around fixing them all day?”
Part two, if people ask questions. “Oh, I also gather data regarding how the ship is functioning daily.”
“Oh, you do that already?” He asked, surprised.
CRAP. She slipped. Always future tense, don’t let anyone know you’re off on training missions in your first year… “Oh, I’ve just done some sims,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m positive the command track is far more interesting. Tell me about your favorite classes.”
“He can never know.”
“You don’t think I know that?” She snapped. “Why do you think I asked for face to face? How am I supposed to be in this organization and have a child?”
He sighed. “Easily and simply. In some cases, it turns out to be the perfect cover.”
“I'm not using my child as a cover story.” She bit out.
“Then we’ll send it back to earth,” he shrugged. “You’ve got family.”
“But George- he’d never-”
“Then we’ll let ya live onboard with the kid, I’ll pull some strings, I don’t care . What I care about is the assignment you’re supposed to be on right now.”
“And when I get sent out while breastfeeding a newborn? How will I explain that?”
“Like I said, perfect cover story.”
“What are you talking about?”
“In lieu of intelligence ops where you’re lying to your husband about where you’re at, we’ll simply assign you to gathering intel on the Kelvin .”
She stared at him silently for a beat. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.”
“What aren’t you telling me? George has been stationed there for 6 months already and I’ve never done anything on that ship once , so I’ll ask you one time, what’s the real reason?”
“You learned a long time ago that you don’t get to ask questions here!” He rounded on her, and she fought the urge to place a protective hand over her still flat stomach. “You follow your orders and you do your job! Understand?”
She ground her teeth, boldly defiant. Maybe it was the hormones. Maybe it was the thought of having someone to protect. But she pushed back. “Maybe after you answer one question that I absolutely have the right to ask. What happens when you all deem the kid old enough to not need me anymore?”
"Then they go back to earth, or you do."
"At. What. Age?"
He pondered. “Is 2 fair?”
Which is how the conception of Jim happened the summer before Sam turned 2. So she- and Sam- could stay on the Kelvin longer.
But then George died. She had a complicated birth. She had severe PPD. And none of it mattered after that. The kids no longer mattered. Her heart, her husband, was gone. Her body was… changed. Her mind and emotions were turbulent yet empty and completely uncontrollable. She snapped and threw things and screamed about how unfair George dying was. Then she didn’t leave her bed for days on end.
She couldn’t find a reason to stay. So when Jim turned 2, she was gone without hesitation.
“You’re one of our most valuable assets for well over a decade and suddenly you want out? I’m not buying it. And you’re a better agent than to walk in here with that request and no offers on your end so tell me what you really want.”
“What I really want… is to have George’s last baby.”
“A baby? You?”
“You asked.”
“And you lie,” came the response.
“The last embryo is going to deteriorate if it’s not implanted.”
“Embryos last a lot longer than that.”
“Talk to cold storage.”
“Oh, I did,” he stood up. “You see, I spent a lot of time on CS12, for reasons I’m sure you can deduce, and I learned quite a bit about cryogenics in that time. Like how augmented cells tend to break down in cryo faster than the regular person,” he raised an eyebrow.
“How long have you known?”
“About your XenoP gene or about what you did?” When she didn’t answer, he continued. “The gene issue showed up a long time ago on your-"
“On my bloodwork for Section 31, yeah that’s how I found out. You weren’t supposed to know,” she shook her head.
He shrugged, “but alas… I do. And as far as what you did…” he shook his head, placed both hands on the back of the chair he stood behind. “I knew about that from the second you asked to be assigned to CS12 for a semester.”
“So you know what I do before I even do it?” She shot at him.
“More or less.”
“So are you going to let me go without a fight or not?”
“It’s not just me you’ll have to worry about if you have an augmented kid.”
“You keep searching for your 90’s augments and I’ll deal with my child.”
“You’ll never be able to take her to Starfleet hospitals or doctors. One wrong person sees those augmented cells and…”
“Would you quit ominously trailing off? It’s getting boring.”
“I’m just trying to get you to use your head here.”
"Are you threatening a child I don't even have yet?"
"Threatening, no. Stating facts, yes."
She huffed. "You owe me two favors. And I'm calling in this one."
It’s been a long time. But by my ledger, I have one last favor to call in.
You ghost Section 31 fifteen years ago and think you can still call in a favor?
After hiding that you knew the Tarsus virus was planned and therefore the massacre and subsequent manhunt thereafter? Yeah, yeah I do. You were my handler and owed me that.
We made sure your son was on the list to live.
We both know Kodos changed that at the last minute because he was a threat. And that’s the issue now. My daughter is going to be seen as a threat. I will not allow another one of my children to be tortured. Even if I’m not around to stop it.
The only way you’re cashing in is if you add a little more to the pot.
How much more?
A fair amount to ensure she stays alive.
What’s a fair amount?
Your return to Section 31.
Did you miss the part where XenoP is fatal and apparently, incurable?
…is it?
According to Vos, yes.
You really believe that the man that was Kodos’ right hand can’t come up with the cure you two planned? Maybe you’ve lost your touch after all.
What are you saying? He’s withholding it?
Or not working on it like he claims. I, on the other hand, always follow through on my guarantees.
Are you saying you can get me a cure?
I’m saying if I was, that’d be two favors instead of one.
If I got the cure, I wouldn’t need you to guarantee Callie’s safety, I’d be here to ensure it.
If you get the cure, you’re going to owe us.
Owe you what?
Here’s how this is going to work, Winona. You come back to Section 31 and we get you the cure. Your daughter’s life, however, comes at the cost of your staying in Section 31 this time.
As long as I stay loyal and active, she stays safe, is that it?
Well she’ll be living with Jim so “safe” is relative.
And how do I explain my absence?
Your death will do that just fine.
You want me to fake my death?
They’re going to hold a funeral for you, Winona. It’s up to you if it’s real or fake.
And just how do you plan on getting Vos to cooperate?
I don’t. He won’t. He’s an asset that is really no longer an asset but can’t be taken out yet. In the meantime, we’d have to get the cure from another source.
What source?
Your son’s friend, Dr. McCoy, has a phd in pathology. Properly motivated, he’ll get the cure.
And how do you plan on motivating him?
You let us worry about that. You’ll be in stasis until he gets the cure.
And why can’t you just use Harrison to cure me?
Harrison is… on assignment.
Convenient.
I don’t know where he is, okay?
The head of Section 31 doesn’t know where his most dangerous asset is?
Oh, I know exactly where *she* is.
“...you’ll keep your mouth shut, Winona.”
She glared at him.
“Our agreement was that she’d live with Jim. I told you “safety” was relative.”
“That’s not what I agreed to and you know it.”
“Oh, I know it. I just don’t care.” He scoffed when she continued to glare at him. “What did I do that’s any worse than what you did, hm? Letting Vos take all those blood samples from her-”
“So that he wouldn’t experiment on her!”
“Oh, such a good mommy, not letting someone experiment on another one of your kids.”
“That’s exactly why I came back! To keep her from him and you gave her to them!”
“I was motivating McCoy to get the cure, “properly motivated”, remember? It’s not my fault you list your touch for reading double meanings, Wyn.”
“And letting them get to her after you got the cure?!”
“I didn’t let them do anything,” he snarled. “They went behind my back. And how do you think she got outta there, hm? I can tell you,” he chuckled. “Her restraints weren’t left unlocked by accident.”
"At least Vos is dead..." She sighed, sinking into the chair across from him.
“At least," he agreed. "Your assignment is finally here.” He slid a padd across the desk at her.
She picked it up warily, looked it over. “Really?” She commented, “this? This is what you’re assigning me?”
He nodded once. “Enjoy.”