Let They Who Do, Continue

Posted on Fri Nov 19, 2021 @ 11:30pm by Admiral Alan Markus

947 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: Archangel
Location: Babylon Station

Alan sat back on the sofa, rubbing his eyes. He rarely felt old physically, just tired, but he often felt old mentally. At the moment, he wasn’t sure which he felt more. The Victory's crew had been recovered and returned to their ship. His children were aboard the Saint George being tended to, and everyone on the station was cleaning up the mess from the firefights. He couldn't have felt more relief when the Victory had jumped back into the Underspace and returned to the galaxy proper. He was permitting himself a few moments of peace out in the void before reality could sneak back in to claim him. His meditation was interrupted however, as the aroma of ginger tea assaulted his nostrils. He looked down at the cup and saucer in front of him and took them, sighing. “Thank you,” he said.

“You’re welcome, dear,” Lilith said, sitting down next to him, sitting back and sipping her cup of black tea.

“You could have just asked me about them, Lil,” he said, wearily.

“And you could have told me what you were doing, Adam,” she said, her voice becoming heavy. “You could have told me about Morgan as well.”

“I’m sorry. You weren’t there to inform. You and I operate best at a bit of a distance, you know that,” he said, sipping.

“Because you keep pushing me away,” she said, exasperation coming back into her voice. “First the four corners of the Earth, now the voids of the galaxy. How long are you going to keep this up?”

“To be honest, I do have better things to do,” he said, looking into his cup, then finally up at her, and in her eyes. He couldn’t help but give a small smile. Over five millennia and she still had the same fire in her eyes. “This station,” he said, looking around the room, “this is your passion project now?”

“Well,” she said, "we may disagree on methods, but you must admit, we both agree that our kind should have more of a guiding hand in this galaxy. It's my home, but I'm slowly expanding." She looked at him sideways. So you can imagine I'm not pleased your people tried stealing data files on me."

Markus nodded. "I had an operative retrieve them when the Captain's pet spy returned to their ship."

"Thank you," she said. "They robbed a low-level security room, but still."

Markus nodded. "I understand. No one likes a breach."

"Agreed, which is why I took a page from your book. You collect those strays of yours, I’m integrating remnants of whole civilizations. The Delta Quadrant is rife with them. Together, they could be quite the driving force. If the four--” she caught and corrected herself, “--three of us worked together, imagine the good we could accomplish?”

“Well, Flint is still more concerned with avoiding the galaxy than saving it,” Alan said, then let out a long sigh. “And, I fear I may be agreeing with him. Perhaps it’s time for another sabbatical.”

“Well, if you wish to spend a few decades here, you’ll be welcome,” she said, patting his hand.

He took the hand and gave it a squeeze. “Thank you,” he said. “But I’ll be honest, I don’t know about this group of yours. A force for good cannot go around executing their own people like pirates. That’s not going to aid their trust in anyone.”

She looked at him, frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“Beechwood,” Markus said. “There was absolutely no reason for his XO to kill him.”

“Who’s Beechwood?” Lilith said, confusion evident in her voice.

He turned on the sofa and looked her in the eyes, his voice getting harder. “The officer in charge of Medusa Base, the Section 31 stronghold not far from here. When Captain Kennit returned him to their ship, he was shot.”

“Section 31 was your creation, not mine,” she said, she said, defensively. “I assumed they were part of your envoy when they arrived here.”

Markus blinked. “We thought they were yours. They were involved with a coup, and then fled. I assumed you recruited them.”

“Not me,” she said. “We heard about what had happened, and..admittedly...we were curious about taking advantage of the Federation’s lapse in security, but I certainly wouldn’t allow those criminals onto my station until they’d proven themselves trustworthy.”

Markus’ brows knitted together and he put his tea down on the table next to him. “Then if they weren’t yours, and they weren’t mine…”

Lilith frowned. “Did they know about the children, and if so, how? And how far did they get on my station looking for them?”

“It would certainly explain why the children were antagonistic towards Starfleet uniforms…” Markus mused. He took a deep breath, let it out, stood up and straightened his uniform top. “I suppose a sabbatical will have to wait. At least we can take some solace in the fact that they’ve already made their first serious error.” He nodded towards the door and strode out purposefully.

Lilith stood as well, matching his speed, if not stride, and glanced up at him. “What’s that?”

“Now they’re up against both of us,” he said, gravely.

Lilith nodded, upset at what she’d been thrust into, but inwardly pleased to have him by her side again. Maybe they’ll only make it a few decades, maybe a century, before the usual friction rises between them, but she’d take it. Their kind had one attribute in spades: patience.

 

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