Paris Life-Part II

Paris, France, 2290.272, 1447 hours. In this instance and this instance only Se'tak hated being right. He also hated watching Max hurt himself and break his father's heart every time he did.

After the little stunt his cousin pulled Callan grounded him for a month; that punishment lasted less than a week before Max started sneaking out again at all hours doing G-d-knows-what with his 'friends'. Sometimes he'd come home, sometimes he wouldn't. When Se'tak found out what was going on he was pissed.

He skipped his afternoon classes and stalked the sidewalk opposite Max's school. His grades were slipping—more like plummeting was how his uncle put it-but he was still showing up for class. Se'tak's plan was to grab his cousin at the last bell and talk some sense into him—knock some into him too if he had to.

A gaggle of kids of all races and ages burst out the front doors within seconds of the last bell. He carefully scanned the crowd for his cousin but Max managed to duck and weave through the crowd and get halfway up the sidewalk before being spotted.

"Max!" 'Tak shouted. His cousin ignored him and picked up his pace.

"Why're you doing this? Why won't you talk to me?" Max started jogging to try and get away. "Can't you see what you're doing is wrong? Why're you hurting yourself like this? And your dad? Why're you hurting him like this?"

A policewoman on patrol crossed his cousin's path just then and Max spoke to her briefly before gesturing his way and hurrying on again. Se'tak watched the officer make a bee line for him and paused in his tracks but didn't stop trying to get his cousin's attention. "You can't avoid me forever, Max! I'm just going to keep turning up like a bad penny!"

As he rushed away Max finally turned and spoke to him before dashing around the corner out of sight. "What does that even me?"

'Tak quirked his head and held up his hands as the officer approached issuing commands to him in rapid French. He didn't know what the phrase meant either; it was one of Mama's sayings.

"I'm so sorry, Se'tak. I had no idea he was capable of doing something like that!"

'Tak shook his head and held fast to his comm. He'd tried explaining things to the policewoman earlier but she wasn't buying it; still, she'd let him off with a warning, so he had that going for him at least. "It's ok, Uncle Callan. I won't claim to know exactly what he's dealing with but I have a little idea of what he's going through."

"I know," his uncle admitted.

"I want you to know," Se'tak stopped to clear his throat, "that this won't stop me. I want to be there for Max."

"I know. Thank you. I've tried everything but he just…" Callan took a deep breath and stifled a sob. "How did everything get turned on it's head so fast?! A year ago we were happy and now…"

Se'tak hastened to reassure him, recalling some of the advice Uncle Jim gave him after Egil died. "You'll be happy again…it won't be the same as it was before but you 2 will be happy again, I promise."

At that his uncle could no longer contain his weeping. "Thanks, Se'tak. I needed to hear that."

Jardin Catherine-Labouré, 2290.285, 1540 hours. Tailing Max all over Paris was becoming practically a full-time job; and his cousin was crafty too, slipping out of back doors and climbing out of windows in order to avoid him. But what Max didn't know was that he'd been just as wily back in the day—in fact he was probably worse. Because whenever Max shimmied down a drainpipe or hopped a fence he'd come face-to-face with Se'tak. Today he hid in a bush for half an hour hoping Se'tak would give up and go home.

He didn't.

He had had enough with waiting for his cousin and snuck up behind him with barely a sound. "You know, for a smart guy you're acting pretty dumb."

Max jumped out of his skin but his surprise was quickly replaced by the old familiar rage. "You're like a g-ddamn cat, you know that?" he muttered irritably as he stalked out of the brush. "Someone should put a bell on you."

Se'tak smiled to himself-he'd said the same thing to his sa-mekh many a time too. "So does this mean you're talking to me today? Good."

"Fuck off, Se'tak." Max scanned the park for his friends but ever since 'Tak dropped Herve—who, at 1.75 meters and 65 kilos of pure muscle was the biggest in the group—they'd been giving him a wide berth. Now it looked like they'd already bolted.

"Say what you want but you should know by now that I'm not just going to give up on you. We're family." The instant the words were out of his mouth Se'tak saw Max stop and square his shoulders and he knew it was the wrong thing to say.

His skinny cousin turned and shot him a look of pure venom. "Get this through your thick skull; you and me, we're not family. My Papa…" Max's eyes pooled with tears as he spoke the name, making Se'tak's heart break a little more for him, "…worked with your parents a long time ago and that's it. We're not blood-related—we're nothing. Now leave me the hell alone."

Max turned and walked away without a backward glance, leaving him standing alone and stunned on the little garden path, his cousin's harsh dismissal hurting him more than the cursing ever could.

Paris, France, 2290.288, 1803 hours. After that little confrontation Se'tak did back off. He still followed Max but he did so at a distance and only to make sure he didn't hurt himself. Max, for his part, went back to his twit friends and all that that entailed-skipping classes, breaking curfew, drinking, smoking. It was painful to see what a punk Max was turning into but right now his hands were tied.

He was at a complete loss for what to do and his worry for Max weighed heavily on him. Even as Se'tak sat in his dorm that night enjoying a rare moment of downtime his thoughts kept drifting back to his cousin. It was only a matter of time before Max got into serious trouble—the kind that could ruin his entire future. If only he could get him to see reason.

" 'We choose to go to the Moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win…'

"It was the late-President John F. Kennedy who led the way for space exploration and laid the groundwork for our own modern day Federation with this speech in 1962, and so it is only fitting that the newly-curated Enterprise Memorial exhibit be debuted in his namesake museum in Boston later this week. The exhibit will feature never-before-seen details regarding the construction of the ship as well as…"

He tuned out again as the reporter finished his piece. A plan was beginning to take root.

Paris, France, 2290.302, 1500 hours. Max sat on the seat opposite him in the cab with his arms folded across his chest, fuming. "You suck, you know that?!"

Se'tak flashed him a small smile. "I've heard worse." Max's guard had been down and he was able to pluck him off the street and into the cab without incident. 'Tak turned his gaze back out the window guessing that they were probably 10 minutes or so away from Uncle Callan's airstrip; shortly after that they'd be on their way toward a weekend in Boston.

His cousin muttered quietly to himself and wrapped his arms tighter around his chest. After another couple minute's tense silence he finally broke down and asked where they were going. 'Tak didn't even take his eyes off the passing scenery. "You'll see."

"You can't do this, you know!" Max exploded, "I have rights!"

"I know."

His cousin started to pitch a fit. "Then you know I don't have to go anywhere with you! Now stop the cab and let me out!"

"No," Se'tak coolly replied.

"I SAID LET ME OUT!" When 'Tak still refused to stop the cab Max let loose a string of invectives that turned the air blue. Instead of rising to the bait Se'tak ignored his cousin and focus on the blurred shapes passing by. They pulled up to the fence surrounding the Daly Intergalactic Exports airstrip just before he lost his cool; at the same time Max stopped yelling and his face went totally white.

"Oh G-d," he whispered as the gate pulled back. "He's actually going to do it." He turned to Se'tak with fear in his eyes. "You're actually going to do it."

"Do what?"

"Oh G-d." The cab pulled up alongside Uncle Callan who was waiting outside the nearest hangar bay. He had a couple PADDs in his hands and a well-stuffed overnight bag at his feet. Se'tak paid the cabbie and scrambled to get out while Max stubbornly stayed put.

'Tak rolled his eyes heavenward at his cousin's stubbornness; first he didn't want to get in the cab, now he didn't want to get out. "Come on, Max." His cousin shook his head in refusal and kept a white-knuckled grip on the passenger handle beside the door. The patience he possessed just moments before was fast waning. "Max, come on."

He shook his head while staring straight at his father. "No."

Se'tak threw his hands in the air in exasperation and Uncle Callan stepped forward to try and coax his son out. "Max…"

"You're sending me away, aren't you?" Se'tak spun on his heel at that; despite the hurt in his tone it was the first time in a long time that Max sounded like the little cousin he'd known and loved.

Uncle Callan looked shocked. "Sending you away?

"To military school," Max supplied.

Callan and Se'tak both looked at each other in confusion. "Why do you think that?" 'Tak asked at last.

Max gestured toward his father. "Because he's threatened it before."

Se'tak turned away from his cousin and studied his uncle's sheepish expression while recalling a time when his own Sa-mekh threatened to make a similar move. "A bluff?" Uncle Callan's crest-fallen expression told him that was only half-true. Se'tak leaned back into the cab to reassure his cousin as the teen shrank back. "I promise we're not shipping you to military school."

"No?"

"No. I'm just taking you somewhere for the weekend; there's something I want to show you. You'll be back Sunday night."

"You promise?" Max pleaded. How quickly he'd changed his tune; all the bluster and bravado had been knocked right out of him. Se'tak nodded and stepped back so his cousin could follow him. As his feet touched the tarmac Max moved closer to the hangar still refusing to meet his father's gaze.

Uncle Callan tried to look unfazed. "Here's his passport," he said as he handed him a small ID chit, "And a letter just in case…" here he turned a guilty gaze toward his cowed son standing alone a few meters away. Se'tak felt for the pair of them as he quickly perused the letter; it was a missive written in case Max tried to pull another stunt like he did with the policewoman outside the school a few weeks back; he only hoped he wouldn't have to use it. While he was thinking this his uncle suddenly pressed a small credit chit into his hands as well. "And this is just some walking around money."

He tried to pass it back. The whole weekend away had been his idea after all and he still had enough left in his savings to cover the trip. "Uncle Callan, I told you…"

"I know and I'm telling you to take this," he said, clasping both hands over Se'tak's. The skin-to-skin contact encompassed him in remorse and gratitude in equal measure. He saw snatches of memory he didn't care to witness; dark times from when Max and Callan were both smarting from their loss and doing their best to hurt each other. Se'tak didn't judge—it wasn't his place. He'd been there before too, however briefly, and it hurt just thinking about the awful things he said to Sa-mekh back then.

Callan took his hands away. "And thank you," he whispered in his ear. With a nod of acknowledgement Se'tak picked up the bag at his feet then retrieved his own well-worn duffle from the back of the cab. He strode off into the hangar where the transport shuttle was waiting to convey them both to Boston. She wasn't pretty and she wasn't meant to carry passengers long term but she would get them there in one piece.

Boston, Massachusetts, 2290.302, 1033 hours. Max was weary the entire journey and didn't relax until they opened the door of their hotel room. He set his bag down on the twin bed by the window and drew the curtain back to look at the city bursting with life. It was late afternoon when they left Paris but here it was the middle of the day. Businessmen and women crossed the streets full of purpose while tourists on Segways weaved around them as they headed toward Faneuil Hall.

While his cousin was busy taking in the sights Se'tak dumped the contents of his duffle on the bed and put his crumpled clothes into the nearby dresser. "Are you hungry?" He looked up to see Max shake his head no. "Want to go for a walk then? There's that market over there or we could go and find the Commons?" Another silent no. "Do you want to stay here and watch a movie? We can…"

No doubt in a maneuver meant to annoy him, Max went to his bag, fished around for a PADD and headphones, and tuned Se'tak out.

"Ok then…looks like we're staying in tonight."

Boston, Massachusetts, 2290.303, 0925 hours. Jetlag saw them get an early start. Max kept up with his silent treatment, giving nothing away but his breakfast order, while Se'tak kept his irritation at bay. The hover cab he hailed out in front of the hotel brought them to the museum's door in 10 minutes where a small line was already forming at the ticket desk.

"What're we doing here?"

Se'tak smiled and said nothing. Let Max have a taste of his own medicine for a few minutes. He strode on ahead to the pre-order table and picked up his passes then waited for his cousin to reluctantly follow him inside. Max was a silent tail trailing a few meters behind him through the expansive lobby, past the permanent displays, then up the escalators to the mobile exhibit; it wasn't until he neared the top and saw the banner that he began to actively resist.

"No," Max shook his head as he crested the top of the stairs, "I won't do it."

Given his brief head start 'Tak expected as much and attempted to placate him. He held his hands up in mock-surrender. "Just give me 5 minutes." Max made an attempt toward the down escalator but he caught him. "5 minutes and if you still want to leave we'll leave."

His cousin looked him over skeptically. "5 minutes?"

He nodded. "5 minutes."

Max pouted. "Fine."

Se'tak guided him through the opening of the exhibit: schematics of the ship, names that were considered before the higher-ups settled on Enterprise, detailed lists of supplies, man hours required to mold the ship from a lump of steel into the finest starship of it's generation. It wasn't until they reached the back where the display began discussing the crew that he started to slow down.

"Over 2,685 Starfleet personnel applied for positions aboard the Enterprise," a computerized voice overhead stated; Se'tak thought it sounded oddly familiar, like the computerized voice used aboard the ship. "Prior to the Battle for Vulcan. When the ship was re-christened after Vulcan's destruction only 312 candidates were chosen to join the existing crew." The voice droned on with statistics but it was the large holo-image on the back wall that quickly captured both their attention and made them stop in their tracks.

He'd never seen the picture before—neither of them had, apparently. It was an unofficial photo of a much younger bridge crew that'd been blown up to cover almost the whole wall. Everyone was standing on the bridge wearing their dress uniforms—probably in preparation for the official Starfleet photo—when something happened that broke the mood. Uncle Jim was grinning, Mama and Uncle Hikaru were laughing so hard they were almost bent double, and Uncle Len scowled. Uncle Pavel clasped a hand over his mouth to keep the laughter at bay while Uncle Scotty looked away sheepishly, his cheeks flushed a deep red. Sa-mekh's right eyebrow rose steeply, his only concession to feeling as amused as the rest.

Se'tak couldn't help but marvel at how young they all looked. He'd never seen Mama with hair so long before; and Sa-mekh too, he looked even more Vulcan than 'Tak thought possible. But it was Uncle Pavel's image that struck him the most. He knew his uncle when he was in his early-30's but here he was just a teenager. He couldn't have been much older than Max was now and looking at them both Se'tak realized they could've easily been mistaken for twins. Max had his father's curly hair but it was darker, more like Uncle Callan's shade; he also had Uncle Pavel's warm brown eyes and high cheekbones.

His cousin suddenly stepped forward and reached out to touch his father's image. He turned away just as quickly to hide his own face and Se'tak was about to draw him over to a quiet corner when another guest triggered an audio file of Uncle Jim's voice. "'My crew is my family,'" he said, "'And the Enterprise is a family unlike any other. I think…I think we're all lucky to have each other.'"

Max's shoulders heaved and Se'tak pulled him in to a rib-cracking hug. A couple other visitors shot curious looks their way but he didn't care. Let them stare. "I miss him so much," Max sobbed. "It's not fair."

"No it's not," he conceded. "And it's never going to be ok; but it will get better—you just have to stop hurting yourself like you are. You're punishing yourself and your dad at the same time and it's not a good way to deal." Max nodded. "And I am your cousin," Se'tak said as he gestured toward the picture, "We're all your family whether you like it or not. So you're stuck with us." He stuck his tongue out and Max gave little giggle between his tears.

As he stood their holding his cousin he glanced over Max's shoulder at the room beyond; it was the last in the exhibit and focused on the destruction of the Enterprise. He couldn't help but think of Egil and his parents, and Mrs. Palmer, and Tilk's dad…tears sprang to his own eyes at the thought of everyone they'd lost that day and since. The grief had become more manageable over time but it was still there-just like Max's it'd always be there.

Eventually his cousin's sobs subsided and Max stepped back to wipe his eyes with his sleeve. Se'tak did the same then took a good look at him; Max still looked haunted but all the anger was gone. The bitterness and the fight had left him.

It was a start.

"Do you want to go?" he asked, "Or do you think you want to stay and look around some more? There's a lot of great stuff here."

"I…I think I'd like to stay."

"Cool."

Max grinned a little. "Cool."

They headed off the other side of the room to look at some more photos. "You know, I never knew how much you looked like your Papa before. I always thought you looked more like Uncle Callan."

His cousin chuckled. "Babushka says the same thing all the time!"

They spent several hours at the museum poring over pictures, swapping stories, and sharing memories. There were a couple images of him and the other kids at various ages; there was even a picture of Max as a baby visiting the ship when she was in space dock that surprised them both. A few visitors recognized them and asked for autographs or pictures—always an odd experience when your parents are the ones who're famous—which they quickly obliged, but mostly they were left alone.

Towards the end of their visit though Se'tak couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. He scanned the room but no one stood out. His gut instinct, however, refused to be ignored and he didn't feel right again until they were out in the hover cab.

It was an unnerving way to end the day.