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Kalon 7
May 11, 2025

The bed jerked–Innit swearing with an accompanied thud of hitting the floor–and Kalon jolted from her sleepy daze. She blinked her green eyes at the textured ceiling, held the blankets firmly to chest, and eased up against the pillows.

The clock on the bedside table indicated roughly thirty minutes had gone by, not enough for her to have properly dozed off but apparently enough for Innit to be dressed again. He was busily throwing scattered clothing off the floor into an open, heavily used suitcase.

“A tad late to tidy up for me.”

His shoulders tensed, showing he heard her, but he continued filling the suitcase without raising his head. He tossed her blouse onto the bed as he climbed to his feet.

“Those pants are around here somewhere….”

“There doesn’t need to be so much hurry. It isn’t even ten. Gramps and Grams won’t start to worry until at least eleven.”

She clutched the blankets tighter, pulling her knees to her chest at his lack of acknowledgement. He continued to spin in place, muttering about missing articles of her clothing while tossing his own into the suitcase. His gaze wandered fleetingly during these turns to the open case glowing a faint, sickly, pale blue.

“Is that a laptop?”

He lunged, slamming it shut, causing her to jump. Her heart pounded in her throat.

“Innit?”

“I kept tryin’ to say it, but….” He zipped his suitcase. “I’m goin’. I got stuff I need to do.”

“Okay, sure…. When will–?”

“Not stuff like that. Not stuff like a checklist. Stuff like… stuff. Like the sort that you ain’t get to hang up at the end of the day.” He kept his eyes turned down, his knuckles whitening on his suitcase handle. “All what matters is this stuff….”

Kalon’s eyes prickled. Her throat tightened. Her bare shoulders felt cold despite the warm air. She curled her toes into the sheets beneath the blankets.

Innit was giving the room a once over, muttering under his breath–what about she could not understand. Her mind filled with static.

“You don’t love me, do you?”

He froze, his fingers twitching as his hand hovered above the laptop.

“You never did.” Tears cut down her cheeks. “Oh god, I’m so stupid.”

“You don’t get to ask me that.” Innit shook, his eyes narrowed and shining. “You don’t get to just throw manipulations at me when I’m tellin’ you I got to do this!”

“Manipulations? Is that what you think?”

“Why not? This is the first I’m hearin’ about all this nonsense.”

“Nonsense! I’m asking if you love me!”

Innit snatched up his laptop. “You can’t ask that!” He stormed to the door, stopping, whirling around. “What happened to all the you not askin’ anything of me thing? What about no expectations?”

“It’s different now.”

“Why? Because we started sleepin’ together?” He scoffed. “That ain’t nothing new to either of us, and it’s stupid to think otherwise.”

“It was new for me because I love you!”

She slid her arm around her stomach, hugging herself as he headed for the door. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her breathing quickened. She chewed at unspoken words as her mind raced through random fragments from psychology books, romance novels, letters, anything that she could use.

She jerked to her senses at the sound of the door opening. Hot, angry tears fell from her eyes.

“You could build a life if you stayed.”

Innit paused, halfway out the door. “You ain’t gettin’ it.” He glared at her. “My friend died. I ain’t lettin’ him die for nothing.”

She flinched as the door slammed. She stayed perfectly still, ears straining for any sound from beyond the door. She wailed into the silence.

---

Dry coughs echoed around the study hall. One of the three visitors cleared his throat as if staving off a cough of his own. Dustmotes floated in the bans of light.

Kalon paused her walking among the tables–bat resting on her shoulder–to watch the dust sparkle. It was like in the orangerie, minus the mildew smell. She smoothed down her oversized, black tunic, feeling a curve not quite noticeable to anyone but her.

“Pardon, mademoiselle?”

She startled, gripping her bat extra tight. “Yes?”

“Irrigation for this area?” The man held up a tattered book. “This is about ancient Rome.”

“Rome was famous for aqua–.” She forced a smile at his blank expression. “So sorry, sir. Leave it there at your station, and I’ll fetch the proper book.”

The irrigation book was not on the second floor, but that was where she ended up. She wandered into one of the study alcoves, sat on the desk, and sighed up at the ceiling.

Grams and Gramps most assuredly realized there was more to Innit leaving that night than him telling her over dinner. They were too keen to fool, and she made it easy coming in a sobbing, disheveled mess. Grams had taken to staring at her from out the corners of her eyes, no doubt noticing that she had stopped wearing corsets and skin-tight pants.

Kalon wiped her eyes before the tears could fall, took a breath, and headed for the proper section. She gathered two books–one detailed, the other novice–and returned to the study hall. There was only one man there, and one of the missing two had asked her about the irrigation.

She hurried to the remaining man. “Pardon, sir, did those other two–?”

“I want no trouble!” He eyed her bat warily. “They said keep quiet. I’ll keep quiet.”

She smacked the bat on the table. “Which direction?”

Her boots echoed as she raced off in the indicated direction. Her head whipped to catch sight of reference numbers, letters, hanging placards to give her a hint at where they could be going.

She skidded to a halt in the histories area. Her stomach dropped, her mouth agape. They were frantically ripping pages from the books they held, stuffing them in various pockets.

“Stop it!”

Kalon swung her bat, connecting with the shoulder of one man. She caught herself from falling as the other shoved her aside, leaving his screaming partner behind. She glared at the downed man, taking stock of his writhing, and chased the other.

“GRAMPS! VANDAL!”

Her yells rang around the library. The perpetrator would run right into Gramps with there only being one usable exit. It was better if she caught him first.

She hurled her bat towards him, quickly closing the gap as his legs tangled and he toppled over. She reached for the pages sticking from his jacket, recoiling as her eyes flashed to his hand grabbing her bat.

She shuffled back, tripping over her heels and falling hard on her butt. She kicked away in an attempt to crawl backwards without turning her back to him as he slowly staggered up, bat loosely in his hand.

She wrapped her arms tightly around her middle, curling into herself. “No!”

“Kalon!”

Bang!

The vandal yelped, dropped the barely held bat, and grabbed his bleeding arm. He ran off as Gramps knelt next to her, placing a firm hand on her shaking shoulders.

---

“Pregnant?”

Kalon flinched at Grams’s tone. She nodded meekly, eyes wet, and wrung her hands in her lap. She tried to clarify, but shut her mouth. She tracked Grams’s pacing before her, hands on her hips.

“How could you be so… so….” She snapped her fingers at Gramps–tucked in a corner of their living room. “What am I looking for here, Vern?”

“Take a breath, Pistachio, love.” Gramps cast his sharp eyes to Kalon. “How this came about, was it willing?”

“Y-yes. Very.” She winced. “S-sorry.”

“Careless!” Grams wagged her finger. “That’s the word. How could you be so careless, Kalon, dear?” She turned to Gramps. “I told you that we should’ve barred that boy from this place! Bad enough when we thought she was just brokenhearted! What a scoundrel to shirk his–.”

“I never told him.” She ran her hand over her stomach. “I couldn’t risk him reacting badly.” Her shoulders shook. “I… don’t believe he would be capable…. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t do it….”

Grams sighed, sinking into an armchair. “Something will need to be done.”

“P-please….” Kalon held herself tight, tears streaming from her green eyes. “Please, d-don’t….”

“Hush, girl. No one will harm either of you.” Grams covered her face with her gnarled hands. “What to do first? Doctor? Dear, how far along?”

“Th-three months, maybe….”

“Short notice for your visit…. Well, I’ll make calls, see what can be done.” She gave Kalon a hard look from between her fingers. “Kalon, dear, I have a non-negotiable. Do not name this child after any craving.”

She laughed shakily, wiping her eyes. “I can keep it?”

“Of course you can! You’re its mother.” Grams dragged herself from her chair. “Now, to calls. I’ll continue my shock and disappointment for another two weeks at least. You’ve been warned.”

She bobbled her head, new tears forming, as Grams stalked off. She rested her hands over the tiny, unnoticeable bump, caught between sobbing and laughing with relief.

Gramps emerged from his corner, resting his hand on Kalon’s shoulder. “How are you feeling about this?”

She gave him a watery smile. “Better.”

“Good.” He straightened. “To be safe, I’ll limit your work with patrons. And for the near future, you’ll be down here helping Pistachio to repair and re-record those books destroyed today.”

“What–?”

“Old histories on this area back before the colonies. Nothing of real importance; more likely a renewed interest with the heir to Paris Colony being married recently.” His eyes hardened. “Destroying such old books to sell pages at random to bored shut-ins. How disgraceful.” He pat her shoulder. “Rest for now, my dear. I’ll give you the titles tomorrow.”

She murmured a combination of gratitude and apology as he left. She breathed deeply, prodding herself.

“We’re lucky.”

---

The vast slab of asphalt was dotted with cars. It lay before a long building segmented by doors and accompanying signs. Each indicated a different medical specialty.

Kalon exited the door marked for women's health. She still wore her bleach stained sport bra and the librarian’s coat. She now wore old sweatpants, and her long mass of brunette curls were better maintained and tied up. She held her care bag close, searching the parking lot for the silver minivan she arrived in.

The librarian waved her over. He held open the passenger's side door for her.

“Were you able to see the doctor?”

“Just one of the ladies.” Kalon tightened her grip on the bag, jostling the pill container inside. “She said… it was likely a miscarriage.”

The librarian's hands stiffened on the steering wheel. “And, did she explain to you what that was?”

“I had a baby starting to grow… and then I didn't.” She leaned against the window. “I didn’t even know. He did… I think. I think that's why the beating was that bad.” She bit her lip. “He never kicked me that much. He even did extra and said ‘that should do it’.”

“I do believe he knew. I also believe that was why he allowed me to take you. He knew should he have kept you, this would happen again, and each time it happened, there was more risk of a child.”

Kalon shook her head. “He would've killed me before then.”

“Yes… well, I didn't want to put such a dark thought into your head no matter the truth to it.” He turned a sharp eye to her momentarily. “How are you feeling about all this?”

“I don't know.” Kalon pulled her legs onto the seat. “I guess it's all too much too fast. I probably will feel more about everything after a few days.”

“Quite wise.” The librarian cleared his throat. “I wasn't going to ask so soon, but… how did you find yourself with that terrible man?”

“My parents sold me to him.” She picked at a thin spot on her sweatpants. “He convinced them that I'd never get a big enough marriage pool to make more than he was willing to pay.”

“Horrid lie to go along with everything else. You surely will be lovely, and you seem intelligent. Those are excellent qualities that would've set you apart once you came of age.”

She eyed him, frowning as she took in his lined face and gnarled hands. Her exposure to people his age was limited to three women who lived a few streets over from her parents’ house.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

“Why shouldn't I?”

She had no response, and turned her full attention to the scenery rushing outside the window. She crawled into the back once the mountains and vast fields bored her, settling among the piles of books.

“Kalon, was it? I was thinking, if you have nowhere else to go, you can come home with me. I have the room.”

“Oh?” She narrowed her eyes at the back of his seat. “You in the market for a maid with benefits?”

There was no warmth or humor in the chuckle he gave. His eyes flashed into the rear view, catching hers. 

“I am enough to be your grandfather. I cannot imagine such…degeneracy.” He smiled softly. “I do have a wife, if that sells the point more. She'd be happy to have a young miss around to dote on.”

“It isn't as if I have anywhere to go or could stop you if you just drove me to your house.” Kalon settled with a thin book. “Do I call you Gramps?”

His laugh now had warmth. “No, no, that's quite all right. My name is Malvern Gousa. Mr. Gousa, Malvern, or even Vern if you ever get comfortable enough.”

Kalon nodded absentmindedly, scanning through the book.

--------

End part was the second scene I typed up back when I thought I might get this done in time for Christmas. Now the only 'flashback'/old scene is one when Kalon meets Bex, and I'm not including that. But, the first scene of this I mentally have the whole thing from Innit's pov down. He's still a jerk in it, but he's also absolutely terrified and trying to be hardened. (And he doesn't believe her.) That's why librarians are armed and libraries are guarded, because peple steal and destroy books. You get some fanatics that really like--or really dislike--a colony, a person, ect. and they just start doing stuff to any information they can. And like Gramps says, some people here about someone mildly famous doing a thing, so they want to sell "rare" info related to thing. Even if it turns out not related. In this case Paris boy married Alouette, so those guys were just stealing stuff related to France. Could've been about the defunct monarcy. Could've been an art book on the Eiffle Tower. Didn't matter.

Oh yeah, and Kalon's pregnant. Happy Mother's Day.

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Scene 20

Shuttlebay 1 was silent when Worf entered. The Galileo was parked on one of two landing pads and appeared to be powered down. He scanned the area for signs of trouble, and his narrow eyes perked up when he saw the phaser on the floor across the room.

“So a phaser has been discharged here,” he spoke aloud as he bent down to pick it up. “It is set to stun.”

He glanced up and saw the panel beside the Galileo’s door had been shot. “And this must be–”

With one great explosion, the door burst from the shuttle–trailing with fire and water as it struck and subsequently clattered across the floor of the shuttlebay.

Worf had lunged behind the control panel but had been clear of the line of fire. Wide-eyed, he raised himself over the panel to take a cautious look.

Gemini Rowlett and Ace Gallagher stood in the doorway of the shuttle; Gemini in a casual Aravasti tunic and Ace in a tuxedo. Their hands were outstretched and the blue-white glow of their power was fading from the veins of their arms and neck. 

“Sweet!” Ace turned to Gemini. “That worked perfectly–the fire suppression system didn’t even have a chance to activate!”

“That was pretty awesome, I will admit,” Gemini smirked.

“Right–and now we run!”

“Right!”

The two Aravasti sprinted out of the shuttle and rushed into the hallway toward Ten Forward.

Worf, blinking, scratched his head and ran after them.

When the two officers entered Ten Forward, they saw overturned tables and a random scattering of people. Data was near the bar, standing over an unconscious Ensign Maddox with a phaser in his hand. Elliot had a bloody nose and was propped on his hands and knees next to him, glaring at the floor. Selena was curled at his side, clutching his shoulder. Guinan was tucked behind them, gazing despondently at Beverly, who was kneeling beside them. Beverly had a tricorder in hand, her face devoid of expression. Behind her, Geordi’s face had sunken behind his visor with his lips pursed in a tight pout.

A fallen man was between them, with only his dark slacks and dress shoes visible from where Ace and Gemini stood.

“We have a casualty,” Beverly spoke lightly, her eyes falling to the floor.

Gemini’s heart was in her throat as she followed her gaze. She slowly approached the fallen man, stepping around the tipped chair that had been blocking his identity. She gasped when Ace pushed past her and immediately came to a halt.

TNG-Q-20.jpg

It was Mickey D. 

A deep burn had seared through his pinstripe suit in the center of his chest.

“I’m not sure who this man is,” Beverly closed her tricorder and set it down, “but he saved two lives today.”

Gemini released a breath, half as a sob, and half as a sigh of relief, when she found Hudson peeking out from behind an overturned table. She dropped to the ground beside him, grasping him in a tight hug.

Ace frowned, still looking at the fallen man. “This is Mickey D.”

The collective gasp of the room was followed by heads and eyes turning to one another in surprise. Even Worf, who had snuck in behind the two Aravasti, appeared stunned.

“He took the shot for me,” Elliot’s voice wavered as he curled around his knees. “Hudson tried, but he… he pushed us both and took the shot.”

Commander Riker rushed into the room with Captain Picard in tow. They stopped beside Worf, looking for answers, but when Will recognized the man on the ground, his face fell in dumbfounded shock.

“Mickey D??”

“It’s a long story, sir,” Ace looked at him, “but I am more than willing to tell it.”

 

---
Scene Notes

  • I am kinda sad we didn't get to see more Aravasti power in this story, but there just wasn't a lot of opportunity.
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Star Trek: Q-Dimensional
Scene 19

When the shuttle door opened, Gemini’s hand was still on the door lever and her face was twisted in concern. “Ace, they told me to come back here; is everything…” Her voice trailed off as her face instead gaped in surprise.

Behind Ace was a short, rotund man in a pinstripe suit.

“Gemini, this is Mickey D,” Ace gestured to him. “Mickey, this is Gemini.”

“Hello–oh,” Gemini blinked as the man kissed her knuckles instead of shaking her hand. 

“Ciao, caru miu,” he smiled at her. “Meeting both living Aravasti in one day… perhaps luck truly is on my side.”

The two Aravasti glanced at each other and shrugged. Ace then gestured to the padded benches in the back of the shuttle and coaxed Mickey D over.

“I would recommend leaving very quickly, Ms. Gemini,” Mickey said once he took his seat.

Ace glanced up in expectation.

“Got it,” the pilot slid back into the chair and powered up the flight engines.

Ace joined her in the cabin in the copilot seat a moment later, tugging on his tie to remove it.

Pulling back on the steering console, Gemini lifted the shuttle from the pad and began circling to gain altitude. They had scarcely reached the edge of the atmosphere when a brilliant light broke from the mansion below.

An explosion had burst from the inside of the house.

“Woah–what–”

“That time–that home–is now gone.” Mickey said almost cryptically.

Ace swiveled in the chair to look at him. “But, everyone inside–”

“They are safe. They have gone. Bernard would have made sure.”

Gemini evened out the shuttle’s steering as they left the planet’s atmosphere. “I’m not gonna lie–I’m very confused as to what’s happening right now.”

“Well, I won the tournament,” Ace offered casually.

“Really??” Gemini pulled her eyes off of the window.

“You sound surprised,” he sneered lightly.

“And Mickey D coming along–and his house detonating–is tied to that?”

“In a way,” Ace looked back at the man in the pinstripe suit.

“Your friend has convinced me to plead my case to the Federation and make amends for my past actions,” Mickey said, his hands crossed over his middle as he sat back on the bench. “I could not refuse such a compassionate gentleman.”

Gemini pointed at the man to her right. “Are you talking about this guy?”

Mickey D bounced from a bout of laughter while Ace jabbed Gemini in the arm and turned back to the front window.

Gemini removed her phaser from her belt to more easily fish his communication badge out of her pocket. “So, how’d you manage that?” She asked under her breath.

He caught the badge in one hand when she tossed it to him, and he fastened it to the lapel of his coat. “Honestly, other than just being nice, I’m still not sure,” he matched her lower tone. “Either way,  getting him back to the Enterprise is a good first step.”

“Back to the–oh no,” she fumbled around the scarf wrapped around her chest and patted her communication badge. “Hudson? It’s Gemini!”

“Hey, there’y’are! I was wondering how things were goin’ down there.”

Gemini breathed out in relief when she heard him answer. “Yeah–some changes came up, but we’re on our way back. Where are you?”

“In Ten Forward.”

“What??” Gemini nearly fell from her chair. “What are you doing there??”

“Gem, it’s eight–er–twenty hundred hours,” he corrected, “I came down to meet up with Geordi and Data like we usually do.”

Gemini was trembling. “But–you’re supposed to be planning the date!”

“I’ve already planned it, and everything is ready!” He laughed a bit. “You’re really lookin’ forward to it, huh?”

“Well, yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “What do you think about meeting me in Shuttlebay 1? I’m almost there.”

“Oh, yea! Lemme finish up here and I’ll be right there!”

“Okay–I love you,” she winced as she spoke the words.

“Love you.”

Gemini huffed a long breath and leaned forward until her head was against the steering console.

“All right–what’s going on?” Ace asked point blank.

Her eyes were slits when she turned her head to look at him.

“It is beyond obvious something is wrong,” Ace commanded, “and you need to tell me what’s happening.”

Gemini sighed painfully and flopped backward until she was slumped against her chair. “Fine–this is going to sound really weird, though,” she eyed the inked Q on her wrist. “I’ve… I’ve seen what happens after we get back from this mission.”

The man in the tuxedo frowned. “Huh?”

“I’ve already lived through this entire day,” Gemini thrust her hands into the air. “And the first time, after we landed in the shuttlebay, I got a call from Beverly to go to Ten Forward because…” she swallowed the lump in her throat, “Hudson gets shot and dies.”

“What??” This time, Ace nearly fell out of his chair.

“He was protecting Elliot; an ensign goes rogue and shoots him–but Hudson gets in the way.” She scowled at the floor as tears stung her eyes. “I was given a chance to change whatever I could to stop it from happening–but every single thing I do doesn’t seem to be making a difference!” She gnashed her teeth, “After everything I’ve tried, he’s still in Ten Forward, and if he doesn’t leave, it’s going to happen again!”

Ace’s eyes were distant as he processed her words. “Okay,” he straightened up after a moment and squared himself to Gemini in the chair. “How long after we land do you get the call?”

“Well, we argued–we sat in the shuttle a while before we got out and I got the call...” she looked at the time on the shuttle console's readout. “Since we're getting back a little later... I'd say we've got six, seven minutes, maybe?”

He nodded. “Okay. The second we land, we jump out of here and run to Ten Forward. Not hard to do from Shuttlebay 1–just get to the closest turbolift and go down to deck ten. The faster we can get there, the faster we can stop what happens.”

“Unless Hudson is waiting for me in the shuttlebay,” she pointed at him.

“Yeah,” Ace nodded, only for his expression to twist. “But then… wouldn’t that mean Elliot would get shot?”

Gemini stiffly sat back. “Oh. Right.”

Ace waved his hand. “We can still run to Ten Forward. We can explain to Hudson later.”

“But what about Mickey D?” She pointed to the back of the shuttle.

The man glanced between the two Aravasti, remaining silent.

“Okay–if Hudson is in the shuttlebay, I’ll run to Ten Forward and you take Mickey to the brig for holding. If Hudson is not in the shuttlebay, you run to Ten Forward and I’ll take Mickey.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

A beeping sound from the shuttle’s control panel alerted them they were approaching the Enterprise. Sure enough, the great ship was rapidly coming into view.

“I’m curious,” Ace was still watching the window, “has anything else changed from the first time you lived through all this?”

“Well, you didn’t win the first time.”

“I didn’t?” He shot her a glance. “No wonder you doubted me!”

“And, obviously, Mickey D wasn’t with you.”

The man in question blinked a few times and looked down.

“Interesting,” Ace scratched his chin. “I wonder how that managed to happen?”

“Beats me,” Gemini’s heart was racing as the tractor beam pulled the Galileo into Shuttlebay 1. She winced when she found the room was empty of all officers.

“All right, Gem,” he nudged her shoulder. “You got this.”

She frowned, bumped his fist, and stood up. She took a few steps backward to be in line with the door as her eyes watched the landing from the front window. She took her eyes away only once to glance at the Q on her wrist.

The shuttle hissed and came to a stop on the floor.

Ace hit the trigger to open the door.

The phaser was pulled from Gemini’s waistband.

She instinctively slapped her hands on her lower back and turned around to find Mickey D pointing the phaser at her.

“Mickey!” Ace shot to his feet, only to shrink back when the man pointed the weapon at him.

TNG-Q-19.jpg

“I’m sorry,” he said simply as he stepped backward out of the shuttle’s open door. “Your plan was valiant, Mr. Gallagher, but we both know there is nothing for me here. My time is up.”

“Sir, please–I need to go,” Gemini tried to reach toward him.

“You will both stay here,” Mickey narrowed his eyes. “And I will go.”

“What?” Gemini blinked.

“No–Mickey–what are you–”

“Michael.”

Ace blinked back surprise.

“Michael D’Angelo,” he said sadly.

Ace took a step forward, “Mickey D,” he muttered in realization.

“We are more similar than you know,” he smiled, squeezing a tear from the corner of his eye.

In one swift movement, he shot the shuttle’s panel and triggered the door to close. Despite Ace and Gemini’s shouts from within, he fired another shot at the exterior panel to seal the door from the outside, threw the phaser away, and hobbled as fast as he could into the starship’s hallway.

“No!!” Gemini rushed to the door and tried desperately to force it open.

Ace gnashed his teeth and ran to her aid, only to pound his fists against it in frustration.

Trapped in the shuttle, two could only turn to each other in anguish and fear.

 


Commercial Break

 

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Scene Notes

  • I know what you're thinking... Could Gemini have just told Hudson he's going to get shot and to leave Ten Forward? Maybe; but then where would the epic plot stuff happen??
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August 13, 2025
Star Trek: Q-Dimensional
Scene 18

Ace was unable to hide a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he followed Mickey D to the doorway of a lavishly decorated lounge. The room was covered in patterned textiles and plush pillows. A mock fireplace wisped its silent flames toward the ceiling and provided most of the light in the dimly lit room. Mahogany tables were set beside oversized chairs–currently occupied by a handful of robed women.

“Go,” the boss waved his hand.

The women understood and obeyed. They each got up and covered themselves with the edges of their satin robes as they departed through the door Ace had just walked through. 

He locked eyes with Rose moments before she, too, disappeared.

The door was closed behind her.

Ace blinked away his perplexed expression and turned back to Mickey. “I knew it,” his eyes narrowed. “Rose does work for you.”

“She does,” the man came to a stop near a cabinet beside one of the end tables. “I needed someone to scout out the players for me.” He retrieved a bottle of wine from the cabinet and tilted it toward him. “I told her to find the one with the most promise and keep an eye on him.”

Ace puffed a laugh through his nose. “I’m honored, I think.”

“You should be.” The man then pulled two wine glasses from the cabinet. “Can I offer you something to drink?”

“Thanks, but I don’t drink,” Ace held up a hand.

“Ah,” he paused and instead poured the wine into one of the glasses. “Now, I hear you came from Tal E, and that they recently joined the Federation?”

“Sir, I’m going to be honest with you,” his lips twisted into a smirk. “While I am from Tal E, they are not part of the Federation.”

“I see,” Mickey offered somewhat flatly before he drew the lifted glass to his lips.

The younger man casually slipped his hands into his pockets. “I figured that’s what Bernard was alerting you of one of the times he pulled you aside.”

Mickey hummed and took another swallow. “You’re very observant.”

“As a gambler, I need to be.”

“Indeed. Your skills have impressed even me.” Mickey gestured to a pair of velvet-backed chairs nearby, and the two sat down. “Not just any player would risk going all-in on the first round… and all you had were three sevens.”

“I figured I’d do something rash and unexpected so I could see how you reacted.”

“Is that so,” his beady eyes looked up from his glass. “Did I meet your expectations?”

“Considering you did the same thing with two aces,” he grinned, “I’d say so.”

Mickey tipped his glass toward him. “I would assume you have been playing since a young age.”

“Yes, sir.” Ace watched the man take another sip of wine. “That was how I made my living for quite a few years growing up in Fortanya. And I assume you’ve had many years of experience, yourself.”

“I merely dabble.” He waved his other hand.

“I don’t think someone who dabbles would host the most prestigious gambling tournament in this sector, sir.”

Mickey broke into a hearty chuckle that bounced his entire rotund frame. “Ah,” he breathed after a moment, “but how does one who lives on an uncontacted planet attend such a gambling tournament?”

“Well, the trouble is, someone did make contact with Tal E,” he paused as he watched Mickey’s movements slow, “just long enough to abduct me.”

“Abduct?” Mickey’s eyes were still focused on his glass.

“I was taken from my home and brought to the planet Barea, where I was genetically altered to be an Aravasti–and therefore the Barean’s enemy. I managed to escape with a Barean who befriended me, but our ship went down halfway back to Tal E and Starfleet picked us up.”

While Ace spoke, a stillness fell upon the older man. “I had wondered, with your hair, if you were Aravasti.”

“I’m surprised you’ve heard of them.”

“Just that only one remained,” Mickey finally glanced up.

“There was only one left before me, but they took her genetic material and gave it to me and ninety-nine others. I ended up being the only one to survive… so that makes two of us.”

The man’s attention drifted away again, only to perk up when Ace waved his hand.

At once, the blue-white glimmer of his power glinted in his eyes, glowed down his neck above the collar of his shirt, and peeked through his fingerless gloves. With one finger pointed upward, he removed the wine from Mickey’s glass. 

Mickey’s small eyes grew wide as he watched the rounded drops of liquid float before him.

“I got the ability to control water,” Ace found a smile, “but wine’s close enough.”

Mickey D’s mouth gaped as the wine returned to his glass. “Truly remarkable,” he muttered.

“And because I have these powers–since I have been altered–the Federation decided I was too different to be returned home.”

Mickey D’s eyes narrowed. “No–no, that is ridiculous. Why would they say that?”

He shrugged. “It was something about having to break the Prime Directive if they brought me back.”

“Ah!” The man grunted an exclamation. “To hell with the Prime Directive–to hell with the Federation!” He waved his wine glass as he continued, “I can get you back to Tal E.”

Ace’s expression twisted. “What?”

“I can call in a favor–I have many pilots.”

“No, hold on–”

“I can get you back home!” He stressed, stiffly setting down his glass on the table beside him and sloshing its contents.

“No, listen!” Ace held up a hand when he realized Mickey was growing flustered, “I have a new home now! Remember when we talked about how situations change? That home can change?”

Mickey D’s entire form appeared to droop. “But, Mr. Gallagher…”

“I’ve spent too long processing my losses,” Ace’s expression was pained, “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Silence blanketed the tension between them.

“And, your new home,” Mickey said after a moment, his eyes on the floor, “is with Starfleet, is it not?”

“It is.” Ace watched Mickey carefully. “And I bet that’s what Bernard told you, too.”

“He cross-referenced your real name, once I learned it,” the boss admitted. “Michael Gallagher is an Aravasti ensign with Starfleet assigned to the USS-Enterprise.”

Ace felt a pang of anxiousness in his chest. “You’ve learned a lot more about me than I expected.”

“As a man of my profession, I have to.” He looked up glumly, “And I believe I know enough, now, to admit to a terrible deed.”

This statement did little to relieve Ace’s anxiety.

“Three years ago, a group from Barea approached me with a job. They wanted to pick up a hundred random people from a handful of planets–didn’t care who, didn’t matter from where.”

The shock of realization had already struck Ace like a lightning bolt. “No,” he spat.

“I hired five of my own pilots and one Barean transporter and sent them off to a couple nearby systems to get the job done. I did get a little curious, but all the Bareans told me was they needed a disposable population.” He winced. “Who would have thought I’d then meet the only one who survived…”

Ace released a shaky breath.

“Mr. Gallagher,” Mickey D slowly opened his arms wide, “I am the reason you are here–the reason you were taken from your home. The reason you cannot go back.”

Ace lost eye contact. His strength felt as if it had been sapped as he struggled to stay upright. “Why?” He hissed to the ground.

“It was a job.” Mickey’s words were simple. “I got paid to do it. I got paid to do a lot of jobs over the years. And in these last few months, I have only found more reasons to despise what I have done.”

Ace glanced up, noticing a change in Mickey’s voice.

“I know you didn’t come here just to play poker. No,” he scowled at the ground, “you had a very different reason to attend. And why not? As a gambler, an Aravasti, and a member of Starfleet, why not get sent to my tournament to take me down?” He gestured to the wine cabinet a few feet away. “I made the bans so weapons could not be smuggled in, but with your power, all you need is the wine in my cabinet to drown me in my chair. Considering I was a part of how you got that power… I find it… dreadfully ironic.”

Ace looked at his hands, gloved except for his fingertips. He could summon his power just as he had earlier–not as a trick, but as judgement.

TNG-Q-18.jpg

Mickey D held a trembling hand toward Ace, at once appearing small and almost frail. “Mr. Gallagher… Michael… You have done what I have always feared would happen… you have given my victims a face.” He let his hand drop as his body slumped forward. “I do not fault you for what you must do. All I can do… is beg for your forgiveness.”

A pang again pulsed through Ace’s chest and settled in his stomach. His lips were parted, and his teeth were clenched behind them. He closed his eyes and gripped his fingers into fists.

“I forgive you.”

Mickey D’s deflated form began to uncurl. “What did you say?” The words were scarcely audible.

“I forgive you,” he repeated. “I may still be bitter about what’s happened to me… but I will not allow that to make me act on vengeance. Besides,” he bit his lip, “you’ve said enough for me to figure out you’ve already been given a death sentence.”

Mickey’s eyes had dropped to the floor long before Ace had finished speaking, and on his final words, they squinted shut. With a half-smile, he shook his head, and huffed out a breath. “You are something else, Mr. Gallagher,” he muttered before glancing up. “Seven weeks ago I was diagnosed with a terminal illness. I assume it is the final payment for the jobs I have done.”

Ace again faltered between emotions as Mickey D wrung his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry.”

“I formed this tournament to give away my fortunes–every contestant walked away with a portion of my estate; even the man who came at the last moment, but I had no seats left for him to play.”

Ace’s brows knitted together. “I knew he wasn’t being kicked out… even then, that didn’t seem like something you’d do–despite Rose trying to tell me otherwise.”

“Rose was supposed to test you and your perception of me,” Mickey D’s lips tugged into a faded grin.

“I suppose I passed?” Ace cocked an eyebrow.

“More than that, Mr. Gallagher,” the man shook his head. “I see so much of myself in you, you know–except that you are a far better person to live out your life in kindness despite what has happened to you. If only… if only I had some way to make amends for my part in it.”

Ace pressed his lips together. “Come with me.”

His eyes grew cold. “That is a death sentence if I ever heard it.”

“No, listen,” Ace reached out and grasped Mickey’s knee. “Come with me back to the Enterprise. Let me help you tell your story. I will vouch for your repentance.”

“That is not how the Federation works–and you should know,” he pointed at him, “since they are forbidding you from returning home!”

“But you would be allowed to take the Federation beyond the rumors and the fear and show them the side of you you’ve shown me! You would be allowed to stand up and accept what you’ve done, but offer up the rest of your life as a changed man!” Ace leaned in closer, “You would be allowed to give yourself a face.”

The wheels were turning behind Mickey’s unfocused eyes. His lips were tugged in a frown. His breaths were slow and deep. His rotund frame was unmoving.

At last, his hand went to his lapel.

“Bernard, signal the Galileo,” Mickey D spoke into a small communication device clipped inside his pinstripe suit.  “Allow it access to the back landing pad.”

“...Sir?” Bernard’s voice returned.

“Mr. Gallagher and I are leaving. You know what you need to do.”

“...Yes… yes, sir.”

“Thank you, Bernard.”

Mickey D removed the device and dropped it into his half-empty wine glass. He then stood–albeit with some difficulty–turned, and walked toward a door at the back of the room, waving at Ace to follow behind. 

Ace was so stunned, Mickey had gone halfway across the room before he realized what was happening. He got up quickly and hurried to catch up with him as he opened the door into the night outside.

A rushing of wind blew into the room as the lights surrounding the back landing pad were obscured by a Federation shuttlecraft with its Starfleet insignias painted over.

“Come, Mr. Gallagher,” Mickey D turned to the young man behind him. “I will allow you to lead the way from here.”

 

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Scene Notes

  • Anybody's theories pan out with Mickey D's role in Ace's abduction?
  • Ace has been though a whole lot (no matter what universe he's in) but he's got a good moral center despite it all. I'm proud of him.
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