Second Chances
Based around the TNG episode "The Defector." Ten-year-old Jennifer Anne Wallace has always had a fascination with the Romulan people, often feeling like a misfit among humans. When she hears about a Romulan defector who has come aboard Enterprise, warning of a supposed Romulan ambush near the Neutral Zone; it's fair to say her interest is piqued, though it isn't quite so simple. Amidst a private life filled with hell and horror, though all looks rosy from the outside looking in, Jenny Anne longs to get up close and personal with the Romulan she's heard so much about. A gentle, curious look from across the lounge, a bit of a helping hand in a time of great need; perhaps this old Romulan soldier could be her second chance. Perhaps she too can be his.
Written By – Ael Rhiana
Warnings – Contains mentions of child abuse, and a later suicide attempt
*This is a shameless self-insert story.
*Written in the first and third-person perspectives.
*Note – This is a story I began writing many years ago, as yet another way to soothe my younger self, to escape reality, to find that, which I'd always, so desperately sought.
*This story has major discrepancies against canon. This story wouldn't have worked the way I both wanted and needed it to otherwise. If you prefer reading fanfiction that connects up to all aspects of canon within an episode, you may want to give this story a miss. Thanks for understanding.
…
~ Some people deserve a second chance; everyone deserves a first.
Chapter One
To some, Stardate 43463.7 was just another day. For me, it was a day I would never forget.
Ten years old, frustratingly short, reddish-gold colored hair down to my butt, malachite-colored eyes, ridiculously fair skin with splashes of freckles; this is me, Jennifer Anne Wallace, the lone daughter of a gold-uniformed lieutenant whose life revolved around engineering. I wish I could say life had always been simple, that we didn't bounce from starship to starship to starbase and back again. At least Enterprise had been home for the better part of the last five years. It was familiar to me, though it never felt totally safe, probably because the only other dose of familiarity I had aboard ship was my father's anger management problems, and his drinking. It was an unwelcome combination; I normally had a new bruise to nurse at least once a week. Sometimes, two.
Not that anyone ever knew.
I kept myself as sane as I could by staying out of his way, holing up in my room with a PADD and immersing myself in research on one of my most favorite topics in the known universe: Romulans.
From the first time I'd seen a picture of a Romulan, a noble, regal-looking woman, read about their world, what the Federation knew of them and their history; it was fair to say I'd become hooked. I devoured all the knowledge about Romulans I could find, asked questions to teachers, and other officers the times I knew I could without my father knowing. At some point, amidst the constant hiding in the Jefferies tubes, nursing bruises, a terminally sore body, of crying myself to sleep nearly every night, I began to wish I were a Romulan. At least, then, I would be stronger in both mind and body, the hell in which I made my life; maybe it wouldn't bother me anymore.
Determined to do anything to improve my well-being, I began to convince myself I was a Romulan, at least in spirit. I did my best to keep my chin up, head held high, to endure whatever my father doled out without batting an eye. It didn't always work.
The day came when my father found out about my secret love of Romulans; he'd found a stack of PADDs that I'd forgotten to put back into hiding. He didn't believe it simply to be schoolwork. Those PADDs had spawned one hell of a fight. I screamed at him that I was a Romulan, that one day I would damn well find my people and be gone from this horrid, wretched place, away from him. After that, I not only had to deal with a painful set of welts and bruises for about three weeks but also, the utter loss of my sanity.
Fast forward to a month later, a warbird decloaked just beyond the viewport in my room. It was when the Enterprise was orbiting Galorndon Core; I had been so damn awestruck at the sight of that great green eagle that I nearly burst into tears. Hands pressed tight to the viewing port, I begged, in a quiet voice, "Take me with you. Please…"
They hadn't heard; I stayed behind. Not that I supposed they would have taken my tiny human hide with them back to Romulus.
Now, when I heard of an actual Romulan presence aboard ship, a supposed defector who had come to warn the Federation about a Romulan invasion force setting up a base near the Neutral Zone border; something in my heart leaped. If I could get to this Romulan, convince him to render aid, to help me in some way…
An impossible wish, one that came to pass through far more different means than I'd ever planned. Late in the afternoon, just after school, my father having come off shift a hair earlier than normal, I found myself ushered along to Ten Forward, the ship's lounge. It was also one of the only places on board where I actually felt a good measure of safety. The lounge always had people, at any time of day or night, though some times were definitely busier than others. Even if there were no officers or civilians milling about, enjoying drinks, watching the stars through the viewports, catching up on reports; the bartender was always sure to be there, keeping a vigilant watch.
The second we stepped into the room, I carefully scanned every last inch, eyes widening when I caught sight of a Romulan near the main viewing area. He looked out at the stars, a disinterested, somewhat weary look on his face that made me want to cry. I tried to catch his attention but he seemed too wrapped up in his own worries, whatever they were, to notice mine.
Following my father, though not by choice, I found myself drawing closer and closer to where the Romulan sat. I started to wonder if I hadn't been brought to Ten Forward to see his man on purpose, my father knowing full-well it would make me pull on the proverbial reins, demand my head, fighting against a painfully tight hold as I cried to be allowed to get to where I most desired to go. That had to be it.
It's not like I'd been treated to anything special, merely forced to stand still in silence, facing right toward the Romulan who still hadn't seen me. Miserable jerk, I thought to my father. You brought me here on purpose, to put me close to someone you know I would want to talk to, only, you aren't going to let me.
If anything, he likely hoped I would make a fuss over it so he could hit me again. It would be the fourth time in two days.
I spent countless minutes staring at the Romulan, willing him to turn his head just a little bit to the right, to see me standing there. He seemed to be attempting to find some peace amongst a sea of stars not his own, quietly sipping a beverage his facial expression said he didn't quite care for, all the while doing his best to pretend the stares from both curious and concerned officers and citizens didn't bother him. I think they did. If anything, he looked ready to rise from behind the table, slam the glass down and hightail it out of Ten Forward.
I wanted to run to him, to let him know the entirety of the lounge wasn't afraid of him, that at least one patron, me, thought more of him than he could imagine. A little smile came to my face when I thought of him as my father. Something told me he'd probably be a good one, certainly better than the nasty man who towered above me, every now and then casting glances down his nose, making sure I remained both still and silent.
For the briefest moment, the Romulan caught my gaze before looking down into his drink. It seemed he was fighting some sort of battle, probably whether or not to stay in Ten Forward, continuing to be stared at, whispered about by others. Despite knowing what hell would come for not standing quietly, I couldn't resist taking the tiniest step toward his table.
Our eyes met again, gazes locking firmly together. I tried to project a "help me!" expression, anything to alert him to the fact I needed help. Tipping his head, I received a curious, mildly concerned look in return. Setting down a drink that had barely been sampled on the table, he pushed it away. The Romulan leaned in to watch me closely, casting glances up at my father. I think he could tell something was wrong but didn't know what, or if he should intervene or stay silent and mind his own business.
I wasn't sure what to do, either. Should I try and sidle over to where he sat? Probably not, I'd be noticed and instantly snatched back to my father's side, quietly threatened for not standing still and behaving. Leaping forward like I'd been stung also came to mind, running pell-mell toward the Romulan the second I was out of my father's reach. Once I'd secured my place at the soldier's side, perhaps even a little behind him for comfort's sake, the man who called himself my dad wouldn't dare try and touch me.
Confused, unsure of exactly what I was doing, I took another step forward, then another. On the third step is when I became entirely convinced that I should have run for it in the first place. Roughly, a hand grabbed my arm, yanking me back so, violently quick I nearly came off my feet.
"Don't even think about it, Jennifer Anne," growled a nasty voice into my ear.
"Why?" I asked bluntly, knowing the question would be my later undoing. "I don't understand. Why bring me down here if you're going to tease me with something you've already planned to deny?"
I had a point; he just didn't want to hear it. For a second, I thought he was actually going to backhand me, but then, at the last second, he paused, remembering we were currently surrounded by about three dozen people, officers, and civilians alike. A hefty smack would definitely get attention, probably none of the kind he wanted, but some I desperately needed.
"I've had enough of your mouth so close it, you little brat." He then went on to quietly whisper some threats that I tried hard to ignore, my gaze traveling back to the Romulan, refusing to waver. From the look on his face, I wondered if he'd heard the threats quietly spoken to me. Romulans do have superior hearing after all.
I want to come to you, seek protection. I can't, I thought tearfully. Any minute now and I was going to start bawling. I shifted nervously, the pain in my arm increasing when daddy dearest clamped down tighter. Wincing, afraid, alone, I looked straight at that Romulan and started to cry.
A child in pain, eyes wide with fear, brimming with tears was a sight nearly no one on most worlds could stomach without feeling at least a hint of compassion somewhere deep down. Admiral Jarok could be counted among them, having a rather large soft spot when it came to the young, the vulnerable, the truly defenseless. Eyes narrowed into a glare beneath his ridged brow the instant Jenny Anne's father grabbed her arm and snatched her backward. Thanks to his superior hearing, twice that of a human, Jarok had also caught every whispered threat, every last curse. The fear in the young girl's eyes, as the human saying went, broke his very heart.
How can a room full of so many people be so willfully ignorant to what just happened? Jarok wondered silently. Surely, someone, anyone else in the room other than him had to of seen or heard something.
No one seemed to.
Jenny Anne whimpered softly from across the way, attempting to pull free from the man who attempted to hold her immobile. When he growled something about "irritating stubbornness about to buy her a world of hurt", Jarok got to his feet. "She's not being willful, you inept man," he muttered. "She's frightened and in pain, not that you seem to care terribly much about it."
"Help," Jenny Anne pleaded softly when Jarok drew near. The security officer who'd been sent to keep an eye on the Romulan stood a few feet back, scrutinizing the scene as it began to unfold.
"Forgive the intrusion," Jarok began far more politely than the man deserved. "But I don't believe I care for your treatment of this child."
"What business is it of yours, Romulan?" Lieutenant Wallace snapped.
"It became mine the moment you not only, roughly grabbed her but also when you decided to both curse and threaten her for no reason." Jenny Anne attempted to reach out toward the Romulan, yanked away yet again. In a vain attempt to break free, a portion of the girl's sleeve slid up, away from her wrist, Jarok quick to notice the hint of a bruise still healing. He had a feeling she might just be covered in them where no one could see. "I can't say I have a fondness for humanity," he said. "However, the one thing I abhor more than even my most despised rival, are people like you who abuse their children."
"You think you know me, do you, Romulan?" Wallace said sharply. "This isn't your business. I have a stubborn child I often have to keep a tight hold on, so she doesn't run off to God knows where. Not that I owe you an explanation."
"Does your captain know how you treat your daughter? Perhaps I should go to him now, make him aware of this disturbing situation." Jarok glanced down at Jenny Anne, a pair of frightened eyes beseeching him to help her. "I know fear when I see it," he said seriously. "And her eyes are teeming with it."
"Count yourself lucky I don't have a phaser," threatened Wallace. "I think it's best we return to quarters." Before he could tug Jenny Anne away, she jumped forward and reached out toward Jarok, the Romulan quickly grabbing her hand, pulling her away from the man whom she so desperately feared, allowing her to seek refuge behind him.
A commotion quickly erupted. Wallace began shouting, demanding security haul Jarok away to the brig, while Jenny Anne broke down into tears as she held fast to the Romulan's hand. Despite the security officer who had been following him around the ship like a watchdog closing in, phaser drawn, Jarok refused to back away from her. Not that she seemed to want to be anywhere but next to him. If anyone in the room hadn't already been staring Jarok's way, they certainly were now.
Guinan and Data had been quietly conversing at the end of the bar when the discord began, the pair making haste to the scene becoming more heated by the moment.
"Is there a problem here?" Guinan already seemed to know, staring at Lieutenant Wallace with a hint of loathing in her otherwise neutral stare.
"This Romulan is the problem," shouted Wallace. "He should be thrown in the brig."
"Why?" Data asked quizzically. "I have neither seen nor heard of any problems surrounding our guest."
"There's one now," said Wallace.
Standing tall, Jarok spoke rather sternly. "This man, and I use the term loosely, has an issue with my opinion regarding the unfair, abusive treatment of his child."
"And I told you, it isn't your concern how I discipline my daughter for her current, constant willful misconduct," said Wallace threateningly. Jenny Anne ducked further behind Jarok's back.
"Misbehaving," Jarok scoffed. "Other than look at me, what has she done, other than try and pull away from the painful grip you had on her arm, I mean." No response. "She is terrified. My hearing is twice what yours is. Allow me to assure you I heard every threat, every curse; the second time you yanked her away, I caught a hint of discoloration on her arm." Turning toward Guinan he said, "I would willingly wager my life that she is covered in bruises beneath her clothing."
At the sounds Jenny Anne now made from behind him, the way she squeezed his hand so tight; Jarok knew he'd hit the nail right on the proverbial head.
"Sir," began Data. "If you have threatened, or harmed this child in any way -"
"You're going to believe a Romulan over one of our own?" Wallace demanded.
"What could I possibly have to gain from lying?" Jarok said sharply. "Be thankful you didn't strike her minutes ago when I saw your hand raise; If you had, I would have ripped your arms right out of their sockets. You, sir, disgust me."
"You know something?" said Guinan to Wallace, her usually calm, neutral tone tinged with distaste. "I don't like you, never have." Stepping closer to where Jenny Anne cowered behind Jarok she said, gently, "Does he hurt you, baby?"
Squeezing Jarok's hand tighter, she whispered, "Yes." With the Romulan standing so, protectively close, holding her hand; it bolstered whatever courage Jenny Anne could find nearly tenfold.
"She's lying," said Wallace, only this time, his tone lacked conviction, the fierce, sharp bite from moments before.
"People like you," said Jarok, only barely in control of his rage, "who abuse children, should lose their breathing privileges. If this were a Romulan ship, I would beam you into space myself."
Guinan's eerily calm countenance said she agreed with Jarok's suggestion. "The Lieutenant is lucky I don't have the authority. I think I'll put a call through to Captain Picard." A short pause, her gaze drifting over to where security stood. One lone officer, assigned to keep tabs on Jarok, had been joined by three more of his colleagues at some point during the confrontation. "I think Lieutenant Wallace would like to be escorted to the brig. I don't particularly care for people who abuse children, either."
Thankfully, only a mild commotion followed. Lieutenant Wallace, still protesting, was escorted away, Jenny Anne breathing a deep sigh of relief, though she continued to hide.
"I will alert the captain to what has happened," said Data, striding towards the comm panel on the wall near the door. With the majority of the room no longer staring so intently at Jarok, Jenny Anne carefully, tentatively picked her way out from behind him, refusing to drop his hand.
Staring up at Jarok yielded a kind, warm expression, Jenny Anne stammering, "Th-thank you," and then, "I-I'm sorry if I caused trouble."
Still holding her hand, Jarok dropped down to one knee, wiped a falling tear from off her cheek. "You have no reason to apologize," he said. "You've done absolutely nothing wrong."
Slowly, carefully, Jenny Anne pushed up the sleeve of her dress and winced, showing Jarok that he hadn't been mistaken in his earlier, instinctual thoughts of how many bruises her clothes actually covered. Ranging in yellow to sickly green to a nasty purple; Jarok had never seen a child with such nasty bruises. It both angered and saddened him greatly.
"You poor girl," he said softly. "I am sorry for what you have had to, so unfairly endure." Lip trembling, Jenny Anne threw her arms around Jarok's neck and held tightly there. Carefully, he got to his feet. It was then that Jarok began to gently tend her; like almost any father would do, he spoke words of gentle reassurance, held her comfortingly close, shushed softly, restored a sense of calm that likely hadn't been felt for a very long time, if she had ever felt it at all.
"I'll be honest," said Guinan, watching Jarok quiet Jenny Anne. "I never thought I would see a Romulan show a human being such compassion."
"A human, yes, but a child nonetheless," he said. "She is in pain, not only in body but mind and spirit too, I fear. Race matters not to me. I hope to the Gods and Elements you do not send this child back to that man."
Before Guinan could respond, the doors to Ten Forward whooshed open, Captain Picard striding through with great purpose. "What the devil is going on here?" he demanded. It took him only a moment to locate Jarok, a Romulan defector he didn't trust, whose story he still didn't buy, standing with the child of one of his officers in his arms. "Guinan, what is going on?"
"Why don't you take her over there," Guinan suggested to Jarok, inclining her head near the viewport in the far corner of the room. "It will be a bit more private, quieter." Captain Picard seemed at a loss for words, Guinan beginning to move back towards the bar. "Might I suggest we move down here, Captain." Reluctantly, Picard, who still had a wary eye on Jarok, turned to follow Guinan.
Jarok was glad when they'd gone, relieved to see Jenny Anne finally calm, though she kept her arms wrapped tight around his neck. He sat with her, allowed her to perch on his knee, kept an arm around her for comfort's sake. Little by little, she loosened her hold, raised her eyes to his.
"Thank you," she said at last.
"You're quite welcome," he responded. "Are you feeling at least a little better?"
"A little," she said. "I normally try to be strong," she admitted. "Like a Romulan would be. I didn't do so well today, I guess. A Romulan wouldn't have been so afraid."
Jarok gave her a soft smile. "Contrary to popular belief, Romulans are not exempt from fear." Given his own situation, what he was trying to accomplish, what might all end up being for nothing; it was terrifying, not that he would admit it openly.
"Do you have any kids?" Jenny Anne asked.
A sad smile replaced the previously soft one. "I do. A daughter." One whom I am likely to never see again.
"I bet you're a really good dad," said Jenny Anne wistfully.
"I certainly try to be."
At the sound of approaching footsteps, both Jarok and Jenny Anne looked up, one more apprehensive than the other. Data approached with a large ice cream sundae, two spoons in the bowl. He set it on the table. "Guinan suggested this might be of some help."
"Ice cream," she said, careful to keep her sudden excitement down to a dull roar. Though she didn't exactly want to move from her position on Jarok's lap, Jenny Anne did. Making sure to stay securely tucked under one of his arms, she eyed the bowl of ice cream, a hint of drool at the corners of her mouth.
Quickly, Jenny Anne's gaze flicked up to catch Jarok's, silently asking if she had an adult's permission to eat the dessert placed in front of her on the table. Normally, she wasn't allowed to indulge in such things. At the older Romulan's nod, she turned back to face the bowl of ice cream, mint chocolate in flavor, drowning in hot fudge, whipped cream piled high, dusted with a generous portion of colorful sprinkles, a bright red cherry perched on top. Salivating madly, Jenny Anne hesitantly reached out for one of the spoons, pulling back at the last moment, tears in her eyes, not knowing what to do.
Poor girl, he thought to himself. How cruelly you are treated where no one can see. "It is all right," he said soothingly. "You are allowed to indulge."
Jenny Anne still seemed uncertain, dark green eyes flicking back between Jarok and the bowl of ice cream. It saddened him to see her so dreadfully uncertain, fearful of taking even a single spoonful of the dessert mere inches from her hand.
"I-I can't," she said meekly with a sniffle. "I'll get into trouble." Jarok felt his blood boil when she said, in a voice so terrified and soft that he nearly missed the words, "I-I'm still sore from last time."
"As of this moment," said Jarok, hopeful he could keep the promise he was about to make. "You are under my protection. I will not allow him to harm you again. There is nothing to fear from this indulgence." The bowl was nudged a bit closer. "I promise you; you are safe."
Trust firmly placed in the old soldier, Jenny Anne, after flashing a thankful smile, turned back to the bowl of ice cream. All at once, she dug ravenously into it, attempting to consume the treat as quickly as possible, just in case.
"I can barely tell if she's starved, or simply afraid of being caught indulging in a treat to properly enjoy it. I'm willing to wager both," said Jarok sourly to Data. Then he mumbled, "I really should have killed him."
"Are you referring to her father?" Data asked.
Jarok appeared disgusted at the android's choice of words regarding Jenny Anne's sire.
"That man, and I use the term extremely loosely, is no such thing to her," said Jarok seriously. He found it difficult to keep his voice level; what he really felt like doing was raising his voice in uncharacteristic rage. Knowing a loud voice would likely startle Jenny Anne or worse, he decided to say nothing else for the moment.
Allowing his gaze to fall back onto her, Jarok smiled. Jenny Anne was currently attempting to fit far too much ice cream into her mouth at once. It actually reminded him of his daughter, Tiaru, the first time she'd ever had a similar treat. She had been beyond excited, taking larger and larger mouthfuls until the cold gave her a momentary headache worthy of scrunching up her face in discomfort.
"Slowly now," said Jarok gently, Jenny Anne's face momentarily contorting when the chill of the dessert went to her head. "Let us not end up with a painful headache."
"Sorry," she said sheepishly, taking a much smaller bite the next time around. It was the only tiny bite she took. Resuming eating larger spoonful's, or attempting to, the cold of the ice cream finally, painfully caught up to her. Sucking in a deep breath, she pressed a hand to her forehead, allowing the sticky spoon to fall back in the dish.
"The cold finally caught up with you, I see," said Jarok with a chuckle. "Eat it slowly; you should enjoy it."
"I'm kind of scared about getting caught eating it," Jenny Anne admitted.
"Do not be. Remember: I promised no harm would come to you. I meant that."
Near tears from the sheer happiness that someone finally had her back, seemed to care, Jenny Anne turned away from the dish of dessert and wrapped her arms around Jarok, squeezing tight. The embrace was returned fondly, a bit gentler from Jarok's side. When she pulled away, she momentarily frowned and said, "Oops." A bit of sticky ice cream had been left behind on his tunic.
"Ah, it's no matter," he assured her. "Uniforms can easily be cleaned."
Shoulders sagging in relief to hear she hadn't gotten into trouble, Jenny Anne resumed eating her treat, albeit much slower than before. Being nestled beneath Jarok's arm while she ate, feeling his protective gaze not only on her but vigilantly on their surroundings made her feel secure, a little less paranoid for the first time in forever.
"Curious," Data said.
"What would that be, android?"
"The manner in which you interact with this child is indeed curious," said Data. "Romulans typically-"
"I know what you're going to say," he interrupted, holding up a hand. "Perhaps I am not a typical Romulan, not by your definitions, I would wager. I suppose if I were, then I would not be here, attempting to convince your captain of my story, which he still refuses to believe could be anything other than pure fabrication on my part. In any case, despite what your Federation would like its citizens to believe, we are not all unfeeling monsters. Tell me, have you had any experience with Romulans outside of militaristic situations? Have you ever been to Romulus, been invited into someone's home, shared a meal at their table? Have you been privy to daily life, seen families engaging with one another, children playing?"
"I have not," said Data.
"Romulans and humans; more alike than either side would like to acknowledge," said Jarok. "We have homes, families; we are not without feeling, sharing everything from laughter to tears. You simply never see those times, those interactions. The only thing either side is privy to is the sight upon the battlefield."
"True enough," said Data.
Silence elapsed. Jarok allowed his gaze to stray out through the viewport, uneasiness settled heavy in his chest, the ship's course taking him ever further away from his home world. Soon, he was going to have to speak to the captain, do everything in his power, yet again, to make him see reason. This coming war; it could not be allowed to start. It would destroy both worlds unequivocally, tear the Empire apart from within. It could not be allowed to happen.
"Hey, are you okay?"
Jarok snapped back to the present, locking eyes with a very worried Jenny Anne. "As well as I can be," he said honestly. "I was merely lost in thought. Do not be concerned." He had been all set to ask whether or not she was still enjoying her treat, but one look told him plenty. Aside from some hot fudge on her nose, mint coated her chin, a bit of both down the front of her dress from when she'd previously been attacking the dessert with gusto. Her hands were also, extremely sticky.
"Dear me; you've made quite a mess of yourself, haven't you?" The words sounded almost fond to her, and she grinned sheepishly, reaching for the napkin to wipe her face. She smeared the mint.
"Before I finish, since there's barely anything left; would you like to try some? It's really good. And they did bring two spoons." Jarok attempted to decline politely, mostly due to the fact he didn't care too much for sweets. But when Jenny Anne said, "Maybe it'll help you feel better; you seem a little sad," Jarok couldn't refuse the offer.
Watching not-so-patiently as Jarok scooped up a small portion of the ice cream, what wasn't melted into a multicolored puddle, to try, Jenny Anne said, almost excitedly, "Do you like it?"
Thankfully, it wasn't as sickeningly sweet as he'd feared. The tingle on his tongue from the mint in the ice cream was actually quite pleasing. The rainbow-colored sprinkles, however, were not his favorite. "I do," he said with a smile. "Thank you for allowing me to taste it."
"Would you like some more? There's only a little left, but you can have it, I don't mind."
"Enjoy what you have left, my young friend."
Jenny Anne did, barely a drop remaining in the bowl after she'd literally attempted to lick it clean. Down at the bar, the conversation between Captain Picard and Guinan began to escalate, mostly from the captain's end. As usual, Guinan's voice stayed calm, quiet; Jenny Anne doubted the woman had ever yelled at anyone before. Picard, on the other hand, was obviously frustrated, his voice beginning to carry.
"What's going on?" Nervously, Jenny Anne shoved the empty bowl away. Scrambling back onto Jarok's lap, she clung fast to his tunic, no longer caring how sticky her hands were.
"It appears this situation has the captain somewhat frustrated on how to proceed," said Jarok. Silently, he added, it really is a simple matter, Picard: Take the man who sees fit to abuse his child, throw him against the nearest bulkhead and vaporize him. Allow her to be placed in the care of a man, woman, or family who can treat her with the care any child deserves.
Jenny Anne's father aside, Picard had no idea how to proceed with other matters, such as the daughter of one of his officers, perched on the knee of the old Romulan admiral in the far corner of the room.
"I-is he going to send me back?" She asked in a frightened whisper. Quickly, she glanced down, whimpering; the front of her clothing had been stained by the ravenous way in which she ate. For a moment, Jenny Anne regretted eating it at all and felt she might be ill.
"You will not be sent back to him," promised Jarok. "And don't worry about your clothing, it can be cleaned easily enough. Anyone with even a measure of sanity would understand that sometimes, children make messes."
"It's not fair," she said sadly.
"What isn't?" Jarok asked gently.
"Why did I have to be born human?" She asked. Jarok blinked, caught off-guard by the question. "I mean, if I had been born, I don't know, Romulan or something…" Her lower lip trembled. "Maybe, then, I might have had someone like you for a dad. I wish I did; I wish you were."
"You honor me with your words," he said. "As for why the universe deemed you should be born human; that is a question I cannot answer, though do wish I could."
"Me too," she said with a sigh, glancing up in time to see the conversation at the bar coming to a close.
Tensing dramatically when Captain Picard began to move toward their position, Guinan following behind, Jenny Anne pressed closer to Jarok, a bit of the ice cream still on her chin ending up on the side of his neck when she moved to hide her face. Picard stood a meter away from the table, expression uneasy; Guinan appeared calm and collected, as she always did. Turning her head to fix a wary eye upon the captain, Jenny Anne found that she clutched Jarok's tunic even tighter than before. The skin on her knuckles lightened considerably, her hand turning a ghostly white.
Attempting to ease the obvious tension, Picard drummed up a smile that Jenny Anne couldn't bring herself to buy, and said, "I hear we've had a bit of excitement today, young lady."
"I would say a bit more than that myself, Captain," said Jarok, also unimpressed with the false, uncertain smile on the captain's face. It faded away as quickly as it had come.
"Yes, well," said Picard, tugging down on his tunic. "I was attempting to ease the child's mind."
"It was already eased well enough. After what she has been out through for Elements only know how many years; the girl is capable of detecting falsities, such as uncertainty in a smile, dishonesty in one's eyes, the hesitation behind words spoken. Speak normally, keep your voice calm, level; that is all you need to do."
"Do I have to go back home?" The words floated up, muffled, from Jarok's shoulder.
"Your father, Lieutenant Wallace, is currently making himself at home down in the brig," said Picard. Jarok noticeably, quietly scoffed the information. "Given what I've been told, you will not be placed back in his care. There will also be a formal investigation, regarding the accusations of mistreatment."
"Accusations?" Jarok felt aghast. "Picard, I was not only a witness but please, do tell me, does this look like mere accusation to you?" After asking if Jenny Anne would allow it, Jarok pushed up her sleeve to reveal heavy bruising. Without a word, he lined up his fingers with the angry-looking bruises on her upper arm, where she'd been so painfully grabbed time and time again. "She is constantly grabbed tight, yanked along like a frightened animal fighting its captor for freedom. She has stated there are other bruises on her body; why do you not allow your doctor to look at her, verify not only what she has said, but what others have witnessed?"
Picard frowned at the sight of the bruising. "I may be well-sickened by what I have both heard and have just seen, but there is still protocol to adhere to in these rare, disturbing circumstances."
"Be that as it may; Captain, I want your word that this girl is not to go back to that man, or anywhere near him. Ever again."
"Until this matter is formally investigated, she will not see him again," Picard said seriously. It almost wasn't enough for Jarok. It sounded like, should Lieutenant Wallace be found innocent of all charges, Jenny Anne would be thrust back into an abusive, miserable life that would no doubt be even worse than before. Disturbing, severely unsettling; Jarok had to work hard to repress a violent shudder at the thoughts.
"What is she to do now?"
"For the meantime," said Picard, wishing they could switch topics. "The girl will be staying in the care of Commander Ressia."
"I don't know who that is." Expression wary, eyes distrusting, Jenny Anne looked to Jarok for support.
This time, the smile on Picard's face was more genuine. "Oh, I think you'll like her. The commander is kind, warm; I don't believe I've ever heard her raise her voice to anyone, even when she has cause."
"Why can't I stay with him?" In Jarok's arms, she felt comfortable, safe; what right did the captain have to make her leave behind the one person who had ever shown her an ounce of kindness, someone with whom she felt safe?
"At the moment, your friend and I need to have a very important discussion," said Picard. "It's nothing for your ears, I'm afraid."
"Well, after you've talked, can I see him again?"
"We'll see," said the captain, Jenny Anne certain he really meant to say "no" and be done with it. Instantly, her face fell, then began to scrunch up in the tell-tale sign of coming tears, possibly, a full-blown tantrum. Jarok noticed right away; Picard went back to his earlier countenance of unease.
"If you wouldn't mind backing away for a moment," said Jarok. "Unless you would like the room filled with the sounds of a loudly squalling child?" A single eyebrow quirked up. Picard took another look at the child whose face had reddened dramatically, and quickly backed up by several feet, Data moving over to him when beckoned. Guinan had never moved a muscle nor said a word, remaining close by.
Quickly, gently, Jarok managed to halt what would have easily been one hell of a fit, soothing Jenny Anne further with a bit of rocking, a few softly spoken words of reassurance. "It will be all right," he said at last. "Do you trust me?"
"Y-yes," she stammered. "I'm just afraid. I-I don't know who Commander Ressia is; I don't know where I'll be going. Why can't I stay with you?"
A little sigh. "I do wish I could stay with you for longer, but the captain and I have some very delicate, highly important matters to discuss. The things on the table for discussion are sensitive in nature, and as Picard has correctly stated, not for your ears to hear."
"O-okay," she said tearfully. "When you're done talking, can I see you again, please?"
"I'm certain it can be arranged," he said. "Now then, let's have no more tears today, hmm?" You probably cry more than enough as it is.
With a nod, Jenny Anne pasted on her bravest face. Picard strode back over to the table. This time, Guinan moved closer. "Shall we convene to my ready room?" Picard asked. Jenny Anne pressed so close to Jarok that he could feel the frantic beating of her heart.
Guinan picked up on the unease without missing a beat, saying, calmly, "I think it would be a pretty good idea to allow her to stay as she is, with him, for now."
Picard turned, an incredulous look on his face. "Guinan?" He questioned, puzzled. "Are you serious?"
"There is no harm being done; the child is comfortable, feels safe for probably the first time in a long while, I'd imagine. I think, for now, it's best to leave it be."
"Is it okay?" Jenny Anne asked Jarok.
"As long as the captain and I convene within another hour, then I foresee no problems."
An exasperated sigh escaped Picard. "Very well. The commander shouldn't be much longer. When she arrives," he said shortly to Jarok, "security will escort you to my ready room. If you'll excuse me."
They watched him stride purposefully away, through the doors of Ten Forward and around the corner. Guinan made her way back to the bar; Data had already gone. Barely relaxing her tight hold on Jarok, Jenny Anne hugged him tight, hid her face away and sighed. Maybe, just maybe, Commander Ressia, whoever she was, wouldn't show up to take her away at all.