Chapter Text
Part Four (Cont'd)
Klath stared at the dirty mottled barrel of the disruptor pistol and braced himself.
He still had his trusty bat’leth in his hands, but he knew that there was no way he would be able to traverse the distance between himself and Kolar and actually use it in anger before the trigger was pulled. He needed a miracle. And the overwhelming sense of shame he felt inside was telling him that he didn’t deserve one.
Behind him, Sunek had returned to straining against his bonds. He hadn’t had time to fully process what he had heard during Kolar’s speech, but as far as he was concerned, that could wait for later. Right now, he was only concerned with helping Klath, he was only worried about the disruptor being pointed at his friend.
Except, there was no way he could help Klath, because he was tied to a tree.
Not that even his own substantial ego could claim that, if he wasn’t tied up, he would rush the huge Klingon warrior with the disruptor and wrestle him to the ground. After all, he always considered himself a better talker than a fighter. But at least he might have been able to do something.
He was worried for his friend. And, if he was being entirely honest, he was worried about himself as well, given that once Kolar had shot Klath, he was pretty sure that the Klingon would have no reason to keep Sunek himself alive.
Still, there was nothing he could do to help. As he struggled against his bonds, he felt impotent, useless, and was still consumed with some serious feelings of embarrassment for the ease with which he’d allowed himself to be kidnapped. If only he’d realised that there was no way he and his big stupid mouth had managed to convince those two Starfleet ensigns that he was worth anything.
And that was when he realised. He did have something he could use.
He had his big stupid mouth.
“Holy crap! What the hell is that?”
He screamed it out at the top of his voice, looking out ahead of him across the valley below at nothing in particular.
It was, Sunek immediately thought, probably the worst attempt to distract someone in the entire history of the universe. And Kolar didn’t fall for it. He didn’t even consider looking in the direction that Sunek was looking.
However, the surprising sound of the Vulcan opening his big stupid mouth did at least cause him to briefly glance over at where he was tied up. And to do that, he took his eyes off his quarry.
That was all the invite Klath needed. He attacked.
* * * * *
“You’re sure about that?”
Admiral Jenner’s words were still calm and measured.
“Yes sir,” Natasha replied, still standing to attention in her uniform in front of his desk.
He regarded her for a moment, then slowly and wordlessly poured himself a cup of green tea from a pot next to him and gestured for her to take a seat opposite him. “Can I get you anything?” he asked, gesturing at his drink.
It wasn’t exactly standard Starfleet protocol for an admiral to propose getting a lieutenant something to drink, and she declined the surprising offer, even though her mouth felt dry.
“I’m sorry to hear you say that,” he replied eventually after taking a sip of his tea, “Truth is, I think Starfleet Headquarters were hoping to make you a post-war poster girl.”
“Sir?”
“These days, we need all the happy stories we can get. And you…surviving out there for so long, coming back from the dead, so to speak. I think the admiralty were very interested in spreading that news around the fleet.”
He offered her a smile. She couldn’t bring herself to smile back. In fact, she felt sick again. “I’m sorry sir,” she managed eventually, “But I’ve made my decision. I just…felt I should tell you in person. Sir.”
He nodded and took another thoughtful sip of his tea. “Forgive me for prying, Lieutenant, but what will you do with yourself instead?”
Natasha looked back at him, but she didn’t have an answer. In a way, her silence answered the question for her.
“I understand,” he continued down a different track, “You told Jirel about our earlier conversation.”
She was slightly thrown by this change of subject. Not the first time that Jenner had moved one of their talks in such a way. Her brain began to connect the dots. “It was off the record, sir,” she replied simply, “And I thought that he should know.”
“I’m also going to assume he’s offered you the chance to join his little crew? Which I’m sure is a very tempting offer.”
Despite the sarcasm in his tone, this threw her even further, but she managed a nod. The admiral paused and looked down into his almost empty cup of tea. “I wondered,” he continued with an odd hint of reluctance, “If you ended up taking him up on that offer, if you could do something for me, Lieutenant?”
“An order, sir?”
“I lost the privilege to give you those as soon as you made your big announcement,” he reminded her, “Think of this as more of a…friendly request.”
“Off the record?” she asked, intrigued.
He nodded tightly and continued. “Lieutenant, you've served Starfleet well. So, regardless of what your future holds, I trust you. And I've appreciated your candour in our conversations so far. I’m requesting that if you do end up taking Jirel up on his offer, if you’d…keep an eye on him for me.”
She grasped for a response, too many questions floating around in her head all of a sudden. “You want me to…spy on them, sir?”
“Not at all,” he replied with a shake of his head, “This would just be an informal arrangement. I’d just like to be…kept apprised of Jirel’s movements. If you take up his offer, that is.”
Her head was swimming.
“Admiral, forgive me for asking, but why are you so interested in…”
And then she realised. And she couldn’t help but smile in disbelief. Jirel. The orphan Trill. Brought up on Earth.
By a Starfleet officer.
* * * * *
She found him sitting at a cafe in Starbase 216’s main arboretum, at a table by himself.
Jirel was staring out across the green scenery in front of him, with an almost untouched glass of what he’d been unhappy to discover was synthehol in front of him.
He could really have done with something stronger. He’d made no headway trying to get to Denella. He’d not heard from the admiral since their somewhat explosive encounter in the reception hall. And he had absolutely no idea where Klath or Sunek had got to. All things considered, he was feeling lost.
All around him, he could hear the merry chatter of conversation as myriad different species from across the galaxy walked through the arboretum in matching uniforms, coexisting in blissful, relaxed harmony.
Jirel scowled. He hated Starfleet.
And then, he saw Natasha approaching him. In a uniform of her own. And he smiled. He was glad to see her. Or at least, he was until she opened her mouth.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, eliciting a look of confusion from the Trill.
“Tell you what?”
“That Admiral Jenner is your father.”