/-/-/-/
/- July, Three Weeks Later
He had often wondered how diverse the classes were before the war. Ten years ago before Humans had fled to Alliance planets. Five years ago before children were sent from their homes to be safe. He wondered sometimes if so many different races had populated the Betazoid schools.
In most of his classes, Humans nearly outnumbered the Betazoids. Trills and Denobulans dotted the population and even a few Vulcans and Bajorans appeared in some of his classes.
But, despite the diversity, he often associated with the Bajorans. All of them were like him, sent away to escape the current danger. And, in the two classes when there were no other Bajorans, he found himself migrating towards two Humans he had met his first day there. William and Alek had never been on Earth, even though both their parents had been born and raised there. When the Federation had split, their parents had escaped to Betazed and a few years later they were born. William had even come to consider himself Betazoid- he claimed calling himself Human was like labelling someone by their skin colour. He said his home was Betazoid and so that was what he was. JJ had never been able to argue with the logic; most of the time he felt far more Bajoran than Trill or Human.
The school day was half over, which meant that JJ was about to leave the only class that he saw Alek. He laughed at something Alek said as he logged off the computer. His head tilted to side to look over at the Human; Alekwasn't looking at him.
"Isn't that the woman you're staying with?"
JJ looked over to where Alek was looking; Mrs. Riker stood at the doorway speaking with his teacher. He smiled at her, excusing himself with a simple nod before walking over to her. He gave her a large grin, teasing when he asked, "What are you doing here already?"
She sighed, brushing back a strand of his hair. "Go get your things, you're coming home early today."
"Why?" his voice rose an octave when he spoke, squeaking out a terrified sounding question.
"Just get your things."
He didn't need a mirror to know that his face had gone pale, that his eyes reflected the fear rising in his stomach. He could tell by her stance, her tone, her mere words told him that something terribly wrong had happened.
Her eyes begged him not to argue or question. He could only bow his head, bobbing it shortly as he turned away from her. He shuffled his feet to the back of the room, trying without trying to take as long as he could. Grabbing his coat- he had found it amazing how quickly he had adjusted to temperature- he shrugged it on and slowly made his way back to where Deanna was waiting.
"You have everything?" he nodded in response. Her hand strayed to the back of his shoulders, gently leading him from the school room. Despite her urging, he twisted around, catching Alex's eye. But as she turned out into the hallway, he was forced to look away. Slowly, silently, they made their way out of the school and into the front lawn where a transport shuttle patiently waited for them.
JJ didn't look at her as he took a seat behind the pilot. The pilot sent Deanna a short look; JJ glanced at her as she nodded. When her eyes traveled in his direction, he looked away quickly, his eyes scanning the scenery as it flew by. Her attention was on the pilot as they made their way through the city. JJ glanced her way, daring to look for only a few seconds. He knew that she could sense his eyes; he looked away, finding his hands instead. As they grew closer to her home, he looked over at her again, anxious to know what had happened. He thought for sure that, whatever it was, could have been addressed outside the school grounds, or even sitting their in the transport shuttle. But she said nothing and JJ didn't trust his voice enough to demand an explanation.
He followed without thinking as she led him from the transport shuttle, down the stone path around the house, and into the side entrance to Lwaxana's gardens. Had he been paying attention, he would have admitted that he was surprised by the route, and by her continued silence, but he was more absorbed in his thoughts and worries to notice.
A small amount of pressure was applied to his back. He craned his neck to look up at Deanna. She nodded at something off by the patio. His brows furrowed together and his eyes searched the gardens for some kind of answer. His eyes grew wide, his body froze. A moment past as he tried to process the sight. Slowly a grin stretched across his face, brightening the paleness that had formerly clouded over it. Kira was sitting on the patio stair, laughing with Ty. His mother stood over them; he could see a smile on her lips but the laughter died before it reached her eyes.
The excitement that had been growing in him died just as soon as she noticed their presence. Their eyes met. JJ could see a dark cloud growing behind her normally bright orbs; his smile began to falter. A few tentative steps brought him to the patio edge; his footsteps echoing, alerting Kira to his presence. She looked up at him, but JJ's focus was on his mother.
"Where's da?"
Jadzia's eyes fell to the ground, his voice too much for her to take. His words were quiet, scared, but his stance- shoulders back and chin raised- showed a man's confidence that he was too young to own
Her eyes flickered up and over at Kira. Her friend just nodded, forcing a smile as she looked back at Ty. The boy was looking up at his mother, but Kira regained his attention. Standing, she took his hand. With one final, comforting look to Jadzia, she led the boy inside; Deanna stepped inside behind them a few second later.
Jadzia wandered closer to where JJ was standing, but the boy didn't move. He stared up at her, demanding with his eyes for an answer. She walked down the first few steps, but her body could no longer hold her and she sank down onto the wood step. JJ watched her; she looked up at him and he took a seat besides her, leaning his grown body into hers. Jadzia wrapped her arm around his shoulders, squeezing him gently before she found the courage to speak.
"There was a… a Federation fleet attacked the station."
"I know. I heard… But then they wouldn't tell us anything else. They didn't know who made it off the station, or if anyone made it off the station, or anything that was happening! And even Lwaxana was trying to find out and Mrs. Riker tried to talk to her husband but she couldn't contact him-!"
"Whoa! Calm down, JJ. JJ- look at me," her hand led his chin to the side, forcing his blue eyes to look up at him. He inhaled deeply, blinking hard to keep back the moisture. "Some of us were on the Defiant-"
"Some? Who's some?"
"Nerys, Miles, me, and the normal crew- JJ, you know who's on the Defiant."
"Da didn't go?"
She shook her head slowly, the sorrow leaking through every pore, dripping into her voice as she sighed, "No. He and Benjamin and everyone else… we don't know what's happening with them."
"What do you mean you don't know? You… but… what's going to happen to them?"
"I don't know, baby."
"What about you? And the station? When do we get to go home?"
"I don't know, baby," she pulled him closer to him, kissing the top of his head, "I just don't know."
/-/-/-/
/- Around the Same Time
"Ah… you have a true eye, my friend. That is hand crafted Andorian blade there."
The voice startled him and Ken jumped, looking away from the item in his hand to see the shopkeeper smiling up at him. He had three teeth missing from his smile and a thick old scar that ended at the curve of his lips. He was bald and a short, plump man, a Gintar from the look of his brownish skin and the green highlights beneath his eyes and red along his jaw. The Gintar had never been a species that Ken put much trust in to begin with, but the just look of him and his dingy little store made Ken nervous
"How can I help you… Mr. Smith?"
"Smith?"
He was adding more green. More green in streaks along the top, along the bottom. Amen's painting distracted him and Ken just watched as the brush moved back and forth in slow, agonizing motions. Amen spoke slowly, gathering his thoughts even as he explained something. Ken had long ago forgotten what he was talking about.
"Ken?"
His eyes snapped away from the green paint, "Yes, Mr. President?"
He had set the brush aside and was wiping his hands with the same old rag. There was a purple smudge on the side of his face but Ken had no interest in alerting him to it.
"I need you to talk to those reporters about what happened last night."
"What happened last night?"
"With the S- Sklick Nsar-"
"The Sklig Ntsar."
"Yes, whatever. The story with them breaking in. That whole story."
"How much of the story?"
Ken watched as Amen's cold eyes turned away, taking in the gardens outside the transparent door. "Make them look bad, Ken, I don't really care how."
"I… I need something for my protection."
"Then you have come to the right place." His lips pulled apart again, stretching into the same toothless smile. It put Ken even more on edge. "For what type of… protection do you need?" Ken just looked at him; the Gintar stalked around the table separating them. "Who might be after such a nice man as you that you feel threatened?"
Ken scowled at the man's grammar, but his years of work had forced him to become used to the translator's shortcomings. "A group of people-"
"It wouldn't be the Sklig Ntsar, by any chance?" Ken sent him a look, but chose to ignore his comment. "Yes… Have you any preferences."
"This kind of thing I'm no good at."
"Yes…" the Gintar hobbled towards a back case; pushing his thumb against the panel, the door cracked open and from it he pulled out a sheathed dagger. Pulling on the handle, Ken blinked at the gleam off the blade.
A few cameras flashed; Ken blinked as he looked out at the reporters. One shot his hand up into the air, standing before Ken could call on him or ignore him. "Were any suspects apprehended last night?"
"No," Ken answered with a shake of his head, "Unfortunately all- what appears to be three culprits were able to escape, most likely with the help of others."
"Can you tell us what they were looking for?"
"Yes. It appears that they were attempting to locate information about one or several Starfleet Captains."
"Can you be any more specific?"
"I'm afraid not?"
"Because it's classified or because you don't know?"
"I'm not answering that."
"What can you tell us about the Sklig Ntsar?"
"That they're a bunch of cowards and that they don't even understand what they're trying to fight."
"Poison-tipped."
"Poison? Isn't that a bit drastic?"
"You tell me? You fear them that much?"
Ken had no answer. He held out his hand, taking the sheath from the Gintar's hand. It was heavy, both the sheath and dagger handle were made from some ornate metal- an alloy similar to Earth's gold. His finger traced over the design, the jewels placed in some symbolic fashion. But it all meant nothing to him; it was protection, safety in his hand. His eyes glanced up to catch the Gintar's.
He heard them long before he ever saw them. A noise sounded in the alley- something crashing against the concrete ground. Footsteps echoed around him, the owners not bothering to hide their presence. A body pressed into him, knocking him to the ground.
"We're cowards, huh?" the voice was harsh, the words spat in disgust. Ken's eyes shut tight. He made no move to get up off the ground, but a hand pushed him down into the spot anyway. "At least we're trying to get rid of Amen. What are you doing about him? Helping him right along."
The voice was masculine, the tone harsh, demanding, but gave off no air of waiting for any answer Ken might have had for him. He took steady breathes and kept his eyes closed, wishing that his body wasn't so tense under his attacker's hand.
"We've got our eye on you, Mr. Smith."
"B, we gotta get going."
Ken's eyes tighten at the sound of a female somewhere behind him. The man's hand loosened but didn't let go. Ken dared to crack his eyes opened and turn his head, but the man noticed the movement and slammed his face against the ground. For a moment Ken was too dazed to do anything; by the time his baring returned to him, his two assailants were gone and he was lying alone in an alley.
/-/-/-/
/- Around the Same Time
It was the first he had heard of the news. Captain Black had been killed at Bajor two weeks ago and standing before Riker was the man's replacement. He had never met Captain Diego before, but it hadn't taken Riker more than a matter of seconds to learn that he didn't much care for the man. He was Dekarian, a race naturally annoying with their smugness, and from simply his stance Riker had concluded that he was a by-the-book kind of officer. He was pale, like every other Dekarian, and stood tall and lanky, flaming orange hair matching the scales surrounding his eyes.
Admiral Keshna caught his eye and he smiled over at her. The Trill nodded back to him before returning to her conversation with Admiral Vasilii. It was a rare occurrence to see the two of them at a meeting in person, but at the last fight for Trill and Vigo they had been evacuated and brought with the fleet to Betazed.
His eyes skimmed over the rest of the room, finding Admiral Jackson in the far corner of the room with his aide. Data's image was there but for a short time he seemed in deep conversation with an invisible person. Neither the Bolian nor Vulcan Admirals were present and Riker could fathom an answer as to why. He knew, however, why Admiral Hilger and Captain Griffin hadn't appeared for the meeting.
If he were truly honest, he would say that he wasn't even aware of why he was present for the meeting. The Enterprise had been stationed in a system only a few minutes away from Betazed; the Alliance Fleet High Command seemed to think he could make it in person, for what rationale he wasn't sure.
Riker sighed, rubbing his nose as he pressed farther into the room. She was the last he noticed. She seemed to have sensed his presence; at least, if not his, then someone's. She turned to the side and he caught grey eyes. Her expression before had been one of professionalism, but when he took in her features, they had become one of stony silence that he had come to accept. His jaw tightened, the lines around his eyes hardened. Finally Jackson's voice forced his attention away from her. They had nothing to say to each other, what happened was in the past and each had moved on… moved apart and grew spiteful.
Chairs scrapped across the floor as everyone throughout the room took a seat. He glanced over at her, out of curiosity more than spite. She took Data's chair and suddenly Riker realized that his old friend was gone.
"Captain Cregg?"
She nodded back at Admiral Jackson. "Captain Data asked me to fill his seat for him. There's troubling movement near Galios." The Admiral just nodded and Riker settled back into his seat, forcing his eyes away from her, forcing himself to forget that she was there.
"We received late last night a holographic recording of a young king, Tan Qui. Many of you will remember him from last year- he gave us several technical advantages over the Federation."
Gemi's name peaked Riker's interest. He sat forward, folding his hands on the table as he waited for Admiral Jackson to continue. But the Human said nothing farther, instead he simply keyed in a short sequence and soon a small, holographic image of Gemi appeared before the council. His body was turned so that Riker could see his tanned face, ocean blue eyes staring out at the crowd.
"This message is intended for the ears of the Alliance High Command. I am Kasimir Gemi Tan, king of the Yenyarian people. I wished only to send this message so that I could thank-you. The materials you gave us spared many lives and allowed for a swift takeover of the capital city. I have once again restored my family's power over the world on Yenyae. It could not have been accomplished without your help. I send many thanks and wish you luck in your own war."
The message cut off then. Gemi gave a final bow before the image fuzzed and dissipated, leaving Riker with a clear view of Captain Cregg. Her head was titled slightly to the right, her brows furrowed. He could tell that she had never heard the full reports of the Yenyarian people- not many had. But he could tell where her intrigue was leading her thoughts.
"With the news of their latest victory, I thought perhaps Admiral Riker, it would be prudent to send you as an ambassador between our two people."
"An Ambassador?"
Jackson nodded. "Yes. Their weapons have given us an incredible victory over the Federation. With their help, I believe that advantage could be increased tenfold."
"Sir, they just went through hell themselves in a civil war- one that we have no direct knowledge of. We don't know how high their casualties were; we certainly don't know if they're in any condition to join an intergalactic war. And, personally, I doubt they would be willing to join even if they were."
"I'm not asking your opinion, Admiral, and I'm not even asking for them to add ships to our ranks. But to have them as any kind of ally would be a significant advantage."
Riker sighed. He could feel the muscle in his cheek twitch and he fought the urge to drop Jackson's gaze. Finally he nodded, his eyes closing as his chin touched his chest. It would a long journey back to Yenyae, and a futile meeting with the king, he was sure.
/-/-/-/
/- Around the Same Time
"And you say this information comes from an Alliance officer?"
"Yes." Hill looked to Admiral Haydn, the Beta Fleet commander not looking impressed by the discovery. "The information has been good every time, I have no doubt that it will continue to be."
"But-"
"Please excuse my tardiness." The two Humans turned at the interruption, finding Commander Azia and another Mikolian- Sub-Commander Joezer- march inside the High Command chambers.
"Come, look at this," Hill beckoned him. "A spy within the Alliance High Command," his last words were stated harshly, his face turned towards Admiral Haydn, before his attention returned to Azia. The Mikolian walked up to the holographic map, a face a mild curiosity planted over his features. "Has reported to us about a small planet located somewhere between Klingon and Alliance space. Here to be precise." Hill's finger played over the map, enlarging the area and creating a small system in its wake.
"And this spy believed this information to be useful in what capacity?"
"They're apparently a very powerful, but isolated culture. The Alliance has already had a couple of encounters and hopes to forge a lasting alliance with them. I think it would do us some good to delay that alliance, what do you think?"
Hill's head bobbed up in a way that it caught first the solitary figure of the Breen commander. The alien just stood stoic, breathing loudly. Then Hill twisted his head to the side, wishing to observe Azia's reaction. He was intrigued by a pinched look on the Commander's face, it was like a shadow of recognition had passed over him, but, like a dream, flew just out of reach when he tried to force back the memory.
"Does the planet have a name?"
"I believe it's pronounced 'Yenyae'. Why…?" Hill's final words dripped from his tongue, started by the way Commander Azia's eyes widened, for surprise was a rare emotion on the Mikolian officer. But his eyes narrowed suddenly, a terse, "We must attack," leaving his lips. The entire room looked to him; Hill's eyes didn't leave the Commander. But the Mikolian spared them no attention, instead he repeated his earlier remark.
"We must push forward, attack the planet before the Alliance can make their way there." As he spoke, his harsh words sounded cold to Hill's ears. It was echoed in the way his body was stiff, his eyes hard and uncaring.
Admiral Hill shook his head at his demand. The Commander slammed his hand down against the table, a deliberately irrelevant action, but startling in its randomness. His eyes were a blaze of emotion and Hill could find nothing to do but stare into them.
"We must attack."
"We cannot."
"The Federation cannot." Hill's eyes were drawn wide at the statement. Azia's jaw formed hard lines, his face set in a calm interpretation of anger. "But we will."
/-/-/-/
/- Around the Same Time
Chamberlain sat stiffly on the smooth stone bench, his bare feet barely touching the hard dirt below him. He put his hands behind him, allowing him to lean back, feeling the last minutes of the sun on his face.
A warm breeze tickled his skin, blowing his dark hair. He inhaled deeply, able to smell the wonderful fragrance of Betazoid flowers. He sighed, looking over his gamma's garden. She had only the best, everything that she willed. And never once did she really tend it, but she did enjoy it with him and Liz at times.
The wind blew through the trees, rustling the slowly changing leaves. He watched them for a moment, watching as the leaves and grass as they swayed gently with the wind. The withering flowers, too, moved as the warm breeze touched them, forcing a shrivelled leaf to the ground.
His eyes turned to see a small creature dash through the flowers- a rum'da, an animal similar to an Earth squirrel. He watched for a moment, wondering if the animal would appear before him. It didn't, though he caught a glimpse of the creature's red tail.
"Are you going to hide out here all night?"
Chamberlain hardly reacted to his friend's voice. He didn't turn, or stand, or make any indication that he had heard JJ. But the Trill did not give up; instead, he walked closer, saying, "Your parents are looking for you, you know."
"Yeah. So what?"
"Well… I don't know." JJ walked around the bench, hoping that his friend would look at him. But Chamberlain's eyes were distant, starring off in the distance. "Are you ok? You've been acting weird since your father got here."
"Just-!" His said sharply, looking up at JJ. Then finished, his voice in a whisper, "…leave me alone."
JJ looked down at him, watching him for a moment. He waited, wondering if he had anything more to say. But the Human didn't. JJ sighed, shrugging. "Your mum wants you to go in, she asked me to come look for you."
"I don't care."
"Come on. You never get to see your father, and he has to leave soon!" JJ told him. "Come on."
"No! I said," Chamberlain started, once again looking at JJ, "leave- me- alone!"
JJ sighed, knowing the glare the boy gave him. It was the same he had given his sister many times before when Liz became too annoying, even for their close relationship. The Trill nodded. "Fine."
Chamberlain was no longer looking at him, his eyes focused on a patch of Andorian flowers behind JJ. The Trill walked around the stone bench, making to head back into the warm house.
But then he paused, looking over his shoulder to see the slumped shoulders of his friend. "I don't get it."
"What?"
"Your father is out their protecting you, keeping you safe, and when you have the chance to see him, you run away from him. You act cold around him; shrug him off. Things you tell me and your mum without thought or pause, you just curtly inform him of when he asks. Why?"
"It's none of your business."
JJ shrugged, "No. But my da is up there. I don't know if he's even alive… and even though he sent me and my brother away, I would give anything to just see him for a few hours. You get that chance- you'd know if something happened to your father."
Chamberlain twisted around to see JJ, his eyes dark with an old anger. "Yeah, well that's the difference between you and me- you have a "da"; I just have a father who sometimes drops by. There's a rather large difference between that."
"He's still your father," JJ said lamely, not knowing what else to say.
"Yeah, that doesn't mean much to me anymore." Chamberlain paused, catching JJ's eyes. "You know your father, I've hardly met mine."
JJ opened his mouth, as if to speak, but closed it after nothing came out. Chamberlain spoke instead, telling him, "Just… go back inside. Tell… tell my da'na that you didn't see me."
The Trill was going to tell him how his mother would know he'd been lying, but refrained, understanding that when Chamberlain turned away from him, he had ended the conversation. JJ wasn't sure how he felt about being dismissed in such a manner.
/-/-/-/
/- The Next Day
The cold grass felt perfect against his warm body. As he chose to lay there, his eyes closed and his unruly brown hair splayed behind him, he focused on the sun rays beating down on him, licking his pale skin eagerly. Beside him came short bursts of giggles and all around him came the hurried thumping of feet scampering from some pursuer.
Carefully he cracked open one eye and peered over at the source of the heavy breathing. JJ was laying on his side hold his stomach; his nose was scrunched up in the way it always did when he laughed. Chamberlain smiled at him but found no more energy reserved in his body for laughter- it had all been spent during their trek throughout the city and finally in his merciless pursuit of JJ.
JJ gave a final sigh, sucking in a calming breath and rolled onto his back. A cool breeze rolled off the lake, chilling the boys' heated bodies.
"You don't seem to be enjoying yourself."
"No, I'm enjoying this…"
"No you're not."
Chamberlain rolled away, tensing his stomach to sit up. He leaned back, his palms digging into the dirt. "It's fun. We haven't done anything like this in a while."
"You hate it because your father's here." Chamberlain looked up sharply, but then, in an effort to hide the reaction, he looked back out at the scene. "You do, don't you?"
"You said it, not me."
"What's your problem?" Chamberlain glanced quickly at him. JJ held his eye for a moment but then he looked away again, shrugging his shoulders. "You're father is great. He's a hero and a damn fine officer. You should be proud, not moping selfishly around all day."
"Moping selfishly? I'm not moping and I'm not being selfish."
"No you're being stupid."
"Stupid?"
"Yes. You hate your father because he's never around and then when he is, you ignore and resent him. Make up your mind. Do you want him here or away from you?"
Chamberlain's mouth fell opened but he had no words to defend himself with. The air around them grew still, an awkward silence adding meters of distance between the friends.
Steadily the silence grew more and more awkward, becoming less of a break from talking to an argument in itself. Chamberlain turned his head as far to the right as it would go, his eyes searching the park for something else to focus on. He noticed the tree first; his mother had told him a story about it many times before when he was younger. It was a silly story, really, one about his parents' first real outings together.
His father was sitting beneath the leaves' shade, his back reclining against the truck. His mother sat between his legs, leaning into him. Having so little Betazoid blood, he had never been expected to develop telepathy like most Betazoids, or even the limited talent of empathy like his mother, but he had always assumed that some natural gift of communication would enter him like with his sister. But nothing like it had ever come to him. Instead he had developed a natural talent for reading and observing people. As he watched his parents, he saw the intimate position they were in, but he knew better than to make assumptions based on so little. If they were any other couple, he would use the way her forehead leaned just into his jaw, the way his finger lazily stroked her arm, the way they spoke so effortlessly together. He had never been able to deny the love shared between them. He had, in fact, derived some comfort from it. But he had also found himself to resent it, to hate how he could love her so much and still leave her alone for so long.
As he watched, the wind began to gust again, carrying her voice to his ears. The words were quiet, but he heard clearly, "How long can you stay?" It worried him in a confusing kind of way that she could ask a question like that so causally.
"I'm afraid that I have to leave soon."
Chamberlain rolled his eyes. His head cocked away as he muttering, "Typical."
"Huh?" He turned his head back to JJ, the silence almost letting him forget that the Trill was sitting next to him. For a moment, he hesitated, not wanting to answer. Then he simply shook his head. Chamberlain waited another moment, then sighed, growing uncomfortable on the ground. He shifted, pulling his body off the ground. JJ looked up at him; making a face, he sighed and then did likewise.
/-/-/-/
/- A Few Days Later
It was not a surprise to him that Gemi hadn't been the one to come meet him. It hadn't even been a surprise to find himself face to face with the Yenyarian general when he stepped out of the shuttle pod. The surprise had more come from the mere existence of a shuttle pod bay inside the palace.
Will took a moment to notice Kelnor's attire. The bow and quiver- a ket'la, he recalled Gemi call it- strapped around his shoulder was nothing unusual on him, but he no longer wore the robes Will had seen him in two years ago. Instead he wore a dark brown, leather outfit, a grey long-sleeved shirt beneath the leather vest. It was winter on Yenyae; it was winter and he was still sweating in his climate resistant uniform.
"Admiral Riker, a pleasure to meet you again."
"Kelnor Ka."
"Tan Qui wanted me to apologize for him not meeting you here. He is meeting with some of the heads of the royal houses. Please, this way."
Kelnor led him through winding, elegant corridors. Golden walls were decorated with elaborate tapestries, each one seemingly telling some kind of story. Kelnor finally stopped them when they came to the entrance of a large hall. The room was enormous; a high ceiling and open hall with only decorated columns to take up room. Even so, he was shocked by the amount of people in there.
"How many royal houses are there?"
"Seventy three."
A low whistle past his lips as his eyes first caught sight of Gemi. The Yenyarian king sat perched at the edge of an ornate throne chair. It was an metal, similar to gold but shinier, with a hint of a silver colouring to it. The throne was set upon a set of five stairs, a royal blue carpeting covered it and extending from the bottom of the stairs to the door, covering the marble-like floor. And behind him, the most ornate tapestry that he had seen so far hung off the ceiling. It was decorated with symbols and colourful images, but he could no more decipher the meaning that he could their language.
Beside him, a young woman, about his age, sat. She, like all Yenyarians, looked out at them with soft blue eyes. Dark, suntanned skin enhanced them. Blonde hair was twisted and tied back in a jewel covered clip. She had her robes tossed around her as she leaned back into the chair. Despite how comfortable she appeared reclining in her throne, Will could detect a hint of discomfort, a sense of not truly belonging there. Looking back to Gemi, he was even more intrigued by how awkward Gemi seemed to be sitting, no matter how much he gave off the air and appearance of belonging.
"I didn't know that he was married."
Will eyes strayed over his shoulder, looking to the man for a story behind the woman he had never met. Will was surprised to hear Kelnor actually start chuckling. "Yes, that is Sun Izellah. They absolutely despised each other when they first meet, as children of course. But now… They are quite in love."
Will couldn't help but smile at the thought, recalling a similarly shared feeling between himself and his own wife. He looked back to the woman just as she rose, Gemi's hand in hers as he guided her down the marble steps.
Will's first instinct was to walk inside and join them, but Kelnor put a hand out. Will scrunched his face into a question, but Kelnor just nodded back at the hallway. "We shall meet him down there. You may not enter the hall without invitation."
Will looked back over at his shoulder into the hall, but both people and Kelnor were blocking his view. The Yenyarian led him far down the hall to another door. The general opened it, ushering Will out into the open air. Will turned to look at him, but Kelnor had already disappeared.
Turning his eyes away from the building wall, he found himself standing on a balcony that seemed to wrap around the entire floor. His feet strayed over to the ledge, his hands gripped the cool metal surface of the railing.
He had been able to look over the entire city as they flew over it on the shuttle pod, but standing there, overlooking the forum and outer limits from such an intimate angle was breathtaking.
"Will."
He spun sharply at his name. Gemi stood one step in front of the door way, looking truly regal with his cape flowing behind him in the light breeze, the thin cloth shirt covered by a leather vest with his family seal engraved in it. Will grinned, feeling foolish as the king approached him. "Herr Tan."
"Oh, please. Call me Gemi." Will nodded at the teasing chide, but extended his hand to Gemi without hesitation. "How have you been?"
"Well. And you?"
Gemi just nodding, brushing off the inquiry. "I've heard reports of what is happening."
"It's a mess, yeah, but…" Will let his words trail off. He shrugged, not knowing what else he might say about it.
"And the others? Dr. Crusher and Ensign Kent. Have they also been well?"
Will cleared his throat, "Um, yeah, uh, Dr. Crusher's just fine, still on my ship. I told you how Kent was, um, that he was burned pretty badly when we left?" Gemi gave a slight nod. "Yeah, he's out of Alliance Medical and is now working light duty at the Alliance Consulate."
"That is good."
"Yes… So, how have things here been? Besides the obvious."
"Well… Difficult, but the transition has been smooth enough." Suddenly Gemi sighed, stopping and forcing Will to walk around him before coming to a stop. "You come wishing our help; do not mask your intentions, Will. I know better than that."
The Admiral looked over at him, clears eyes not concealing the truth in the king's words. "You have already shown an amazing supply of technology. Ships that, from our scans, are nearly as good as our own with a few things we couldn't even name. We-"
"Admiral," the Yenyarian shook his head, wetting his lips to continue, "My people have just exited a very long civil war. Do you truly believe that any of them want me to enter into a war against some races we have no quarrel with. Admiral, I need to reinstall myself as king, to restore our economy, to help my people."
Will sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I didn't think you'd go for it. I wasn't the one who sent me here."
"Tell your superiors that you struggled hard but the Council of Elders refused."
"Elders? If you're hitting eleven thousand, how old are they?"
"Ancient."
"But this is a monarchy? You have a Council of Elders?"
Gemi laughed, a full chuckle that Will had rarely heard during his months on the planet. "Yes. I don't have complete control over everything. They advise me on matters of state."
The king grew quiet and Will looked over to him. "You don't seem very happy to be here."
"What?"
"To be king."
"What gives you that impression?"
Will shook his head. "It's rightfully your throne. Why wouldn't you want it?"
Gemi paused his wandering, "It was never supposed to be mine, I've told you that before." he was quiet as he spoke. His fingers stretched over the banister, gripping tightly to the stone as he leaned forward. "My sister was born first."
Will's head cocked to the side, the muscles in his cheeks flaring. He took a tentative step forward, but then paused where he was. "Then-" his eyes roamed to the side, his lips forming a soft, "Oh…"
Gemi sighed, taking a moment to cast a short look over at Will before he continued. "She and my mother died… a long time ago when the Loraynios took over."
Will could only blink in response. "They killed them?"
"Yes," Gemi paused, gently rolling his tongue over his lips, "I was just a child then, barely a fifteen hundred years of age. I could hardly fire a ket'la much less fight a full grown man."
Will stood, unfazed at first by his starting words; he was far more focused on the sight of grief that had stiffened Gemi's body and the glazed look of reminiscence that had fallen over his eyes. Gemi stared out over his kingdom, though Will doubted the beauty reached his mind. Will watched his knees quiver, nearly collapsing under the weight of his memories.
"The soldiers killed my mother as she protected Kena. He just… I was trying to hid and saw… the soldier came after me but Kelnor was there and shot him with a ket'la arrow. He was still young then," the king joked, laughing as he turned to look at him. Will forced a solemn smirk, it was all he could do against the churning in his stomach brought upon by the horrific image Gemi had painted in his mind.
"Do you know how traumatic it is for a small child to see his supposed protectors try to kill him? To watch as they kill your mother and sister? I can still to this day remember the fear in my father's eyes." Will could only toss his head back and forth a few times. Never before had he met the late king, but he could image what his daughter and son had seen in his eyes; he could imagine a young Gemi, the size of an eight year old, gazing into the dark eyes of a trusted guard.
"The second sun will be rising soon. We should retire inside."
/-/-/-/
/- Two Days Later
The yawn escaped him. After two hours of trying to hold it back, of trying to hide his drooping eyes and wandering thoughts, his body finally betrayed him. Byron glanced at him but Riker stood, turning his back to the Betazoid's searching eyes. He had no plan after standing and suddenly found himself walking to the Helm. His hand strayed to the back of the chair and the Ensign looked up at him. "How far are we from Betazed?"
"Two days, sir."
He nodded, resisting the urge to rub his eyes as he looked away from her. He rubbed at his nose, twisting to get around the chair without having to look back at Byron. "The bridge is yours, Byron."
Byron was already on his feet staring curiously at Riker's back. He looked over his shoulder, catching Lieutenant Malory's gaze. The tactical officer just nodded at the understood order.
Riker was already through the door when Byron stepped up to it. He took the final step inside, not waiting to be summoned in, or even acknowledged. Riker, so preoccupied with the millions of matters on his mind, simply continued on his way to his desk. He pushed back the chair, sank down into it, and began shuffling PADDs and translucent papers.
Byron took the opportunity to speak then. Clearing his throat, he spoke gently, "You should go to bed, sir."
Riker's hand jerked, but that was his only show of being shocked. Slowly, he raised his eyes to find Byron standing, his hands claps behind his back, shoulders straight, chin raised, and eyes fixed in Riker's direction. But then he merely dropped his eyes back to the PADD in his hand. "Is that an order?"
"If I could make it one, it would be."
Riker sighed, dropping the PADD. Finally the temptation had become too much and he raised his hand to rub at his tired eyes. "Sleep sounds good, however it's not easy to come by."
"It would help if you spent some time in your bed rather than behind that desk."
"I have a lot to do."
"Respectfully, so do I, sir, but I sleep once in a while."
Riker lifted his head from its resting place in his hand. Byron was startled by the annoyance hardening in his eyes. It took every ounce of defiance in his being to hold his eyes and not shrink away at the anger. It amazed him that Riker was the first to look away. His eyes dropped and were once again entertained by shuffling around translucent papers. "You can leave now."
Byron straightened, and the victory of winning the staring match evaporated from his stance. For a long while, he could do nothing but look at Riker. But, despite the fact that he knew Riker could feel his presence, he never looked back up. Finally, defeated, Byron turned on his heels.
He sensed it as soon as he passed into the adjacent room. His eyes were drawn to Lieutenant Malory. "What is it?"
"We just got word from Yenyae," he looked up from the tactical console. Byron could tell that he had just been looking at a written message. "The Mikolians attacked."
He took a moment to digest the news, the fact that they had left only a day ago, the fact that they were just barely close enough to render assistance. His eyes dropped to the floor as he thought and then followed the floor to Riker's Ready Room. "Turn us around. Warp 9."
"Sir," Lieutenant Malory shook his head, "The Yenyarians were able to thwart the attack. The Mikolians have been pushed back into their space."
Byron sighed and shook his head. He wondered how long the battle had lasted, how devastating the damage was, he wondered how attached the Admiral truly was to those people. His eyes remained fixed on the Ready Room door as he spoke, "Warp 7 then. The Admiral will still want to return there."
"Aye, sir."
He glanced back at the viewscreen to watch as the ship slowed and pivoted. Then he felt the shift, the shudder, the sudden shift to a higher warp speed. Then his eyes turned away again and his feet moved of their own accord and he stalked back into Riker's office.
/-/-/-/
/- A Few Days Later
Pounding. Pounding. It was a sad sound. A steady, slow, sad sound.
The drums beat continuously and, as he listened, he wondered if they would ever stop now.
Gemi stood, his body erect and his eyes frozen forward, unwavering from a fixed point before him. His left foot moved forward, compelling his body to follow. Then his right went, his left jumping to the front in an endless, winnerless race.
A whisper passed by his ears, but he couldn't hear the words. A breeze seemed to carry it away, beckoning the song away from him, compelling him to chase after it.
He couldn't bring himself to listen to them bicker- couldn't be bothered with expending energy on them. He imagined that he must look deep in concentration, taking in thoughts and suggestions with rapped attention, formulation and plotting as they went. He imagined that his glazed eyes, his slacked face, his slouched position gave him an air of interest. He imagined that they were so involved in their discussion that they never noticed any of these signs.
As the mark upon the ground grew closer, Gemi slowly grew more aware of himself. A few meters away, Kelnor stood waiting for him. A few other surrounded him- Pelnor, Tristam, an old friend of his father's. With every thundering beat and every whispered word, their faces grew clearer and his objective grew agonizingly closer.
Zaniah's voice drew his focus back. The slow words of their native tongue tugged his mind through the cloud of haze, leading him back to see the room, the faces, the concern, the materials of war and debate.
He saw the people, he watched their hands fly in meaningless gestures helping to articulate their thoughts. He saw their mouths move, he heard the words spoken, but no meaning filled them. He saw the way they looked to him, the way they paused for his opinion, but he didn't understand the gesture. He didn't speak, and, after a pause, someone interrupted and another argument arose.
With his final step, the pulsing of the drums faded from his mind, the teasing whisper had been blown away with the last gust.
He felt his face break, for the first time showing signs that his numbness had begun to ebb, a familiar churning feeling replacing it.
One foot fell behind the other and, with a sharp twist, his body whipped around. Gemi was forced to swallow hard at the sight, wishing desperately not to loose what last of his control he had left.
For nearly a kilometre, stretchers lined the path he had just walked. They went back down the flat land before him, up the stairway that led to the main complex, along the city wall, and deep within the city itself were more that he could not yet see.
He felt the hard floor beneath his feet. He felt the way his arms shifted, his hands gripped the armrest, the way his entire weight shifted forward before his back straightened and his body grew rigid. He felt the steady cadence of his heels clicking on the stone, his toes scrapping against it as he raised his foot into the air. He felt the disturbance throughout the room, the stillness that overcame the Elders. He felt the way all eyes refocused, watching him, waiting.
Two hundred had once been such an insignificant number to him. Two hundred years passed smoothly, a relatively short time. Two hundred years barely marked a small fraction of his life. Two hundred had been about a forth of the Yenyarians living with him in the caves before the civil war. Two hundred had hardly been notable in the population of the capital city. It took two hundred steps to walk a fraction of the length of the city wall. Two hundred litres of water barely satisfied a small child's daily thirst. Two hundred had never been an important number.
Four days before, two hundred had become significant. Staring out at the stream of people, he knew that just over two hundred stretchers followed him.
He knew better than to look away, but he couldn't look down. Will stood just to his left; the Human just nodded at him and Gemi looked away.
Zaniah stood up above on the city wall, looking down at him. Gemi couldn't help but catch his eye. The old man shook his head, his greying hair blowing into his eyes as a gust of wind caught it.
Gemi looked down then, knowing somehow that it was expected of him. The stream of stretchershad halted before him. Hers was the first. Izellah. She laid there, eyes closed peacefully, hands resting over her stomach. Gemi took a steady breath, his eyes closing against the steady beating of the thundering drums.