By the time she woke up they were at the starbase. The captain and the senior officers were busy overseeing the transfer of Klingons and shaking hands with the other Klingons, so basically, it was just another starbase run, another attempt at getting someone to take Elle on a field trip. It was much better than staying on the ship and worrying about- no. She wasn't going to think about it.
"Please, Bones, it's for my mental and emotional enrichment," she pleaded, trailing him through sickbay.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart, but for your future physical health we are restocking sickbay and I need to keep an eye on these supply grunts."
Elle sighed. "Fine."
Eventually she found Lt. Riley. "Please can you take me to the starbase so I can poke around?" she begged. "Please? I'll buy you lunch, I have credits!"
He laughed. "Well, if you're buying me lunch, certainly."
"Yes! Thank you!"
They beamed over to the starbase and Lt. Riley let her drag him all over creation, looking at all the ships and the indoor biome parks. "Oh! Let's go in there." Elle tugged him towards an antique shop.
The inside of the ship glittered like a cave of wonders. Elle ignored all the shiny and went straight to the back, to a shelf of paper books. "My precious," she whispered dramatically.
"You're a reader," the shopowner said, coming over to smile indulgently as she paged gently through the books.
"I didn't used to be," Elle admitted. "Just sci-fi. But it's grown on me this last year or so." She flipped through the bookplates and found a book, carefully preserved, from 2005. 'The lightning thief.' "Kevin, look! This book is as old as me!"
He saw the date and laughed. "You have to get it."
The shopowner gave her a good price and wrapped her book in a sturdy package. Elle had it beamed back to the ship and she and Lt. Riley headed for lunch.
They were in the middle of eating when an officer came over. An Admiral? Lt. Riley shot to his feet and saluted. "Admiral."
"Lieutenant," the admiral said genially. "I'd like to speak to your civilian mission consultant."
"I'm sorry, sir, you'll have to speak to Captain Kirk about our consultant's schedule," Riley said, straight-faced.
The admiral turned to Elle and extended a hand. "Admiral Jon Westlake. It's an honor to meet you, Miss Wilcott."
Elle shook his hand reluctantly. "Excuse me, admiral, I have to go back to the ship." She flagged down a waiter.
The Admiral paid for their lunch in advance, "please, finish eating, it's the least I can do," and sat down across from them. "I'll just walk you over when you're done," he said.
"I'm sure you're busy," Elle said, stuffing another bite of pasta into her mouth.
He glanced at his wrist watch, and who had a wrist watch in this century? "I've got time," he said. "Your file is the most fascinating read, Miss Wilcott."
She tensed and looked over at Kevin. He shook his head slightly and disguised it behind wiping his mouth with a napkin. "Is it?" she asked, and cursed her voice for going so high-pitched.
"It is," Westlake agreed. "Your full, uncensored, file."
For him to have it, this wasn't any ole Admiral, this guy must be one of the top ten people at Star Fleet. Elle cast her mind back to Sarek's impromptu diplomacy lessons - Westlake wasn't on them. "Oh," was all she said aloud, and fought the temptation to stuff breadsticks into her purse.
"And I have to wonder, Miss Wilcott, for someone of your potential, what are you doing on a starship in constant danger?"
She turned to glare at him. "That's where I'm needed," she replied crisply.
He gave a placating smile. "Of course. Your file does revolve around the mission logs of the Enterprise. Your dedication to the crew and to Star Fleet is impressive for someone so young."
She narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm old enough to help."
"And to get captured by Klingons," he said knowingly.
Elle flushed from forehead to neck but Kevin squeezed her hand and she didn't dare retort.
"That's actually what I wanted to speak to you about," the admiral continued. "What if you could make a difference, help, on a larger scale?"
In reply she put another mouthful of shrimp in her mouth.
Westlake leaned forward. "I want you to come back to Earth," he said. "Your own apartment, no need to stay on a farm in Iowa, the finest schools, and access to far more resources than you'll find on any starship."
"I'm fourteen, I don't need resources," Elle replied, bristling against the insult to her teachers.
"You might need them if you were going to help," the admiral said, taking a sip of his iced tea.
"Help how?" Elle asked, and mentally kicked herself for taking the bait.
He smiled. "Wouldn't you like to live in a Federation that's not at war?"
"We're not at war," Elle pointed out.
"We're only one bad decision away from war," he corrected sharply. "What would have happened if Captain Kirk hadn't managed to fool the Romulans last time?"
The question sent ice through her veins. She moved the last bits of pasta around on her plate.
Kevin cleared his throat and said, "We need to be getting back to the ship, Elle. Admiral."
They got up from their seats and Elle grabbed a breadstick for the road.
"See, you know," Westlake said, as they walked through the wide corridors to the docking rings. "Even so young, you understand the ramifications of each encounter with the enemy."
"They're not enemies," Elle said, almost shouted, and gritted her teeth when people turned to look. "They're not enemies," she repeated, lowering her voice. "The Klingons are going to be friends, sooner than you or your war-mongering buddies are going to realize. They're not evil, they're not savages, they're just people, like you and me, and they do have a code of honor, even if you can't understand it. And the Romulans are the same. They're going through a rough patch in their government right now but the majority of them, the common people, have honor. They're related to the Vulcans, how could they not? You can't just expect to take advantage of them! We're at peace, why can't you just leave them alone? Or is the Federation really some kind of imperialistic conqueror like they think we are? Sir."
Kevin, behind her, face-palmed extravagantly.
Elle couldn't bring herself to regret it. That was a pretty good speech, if I do say so myself, her inner literary analysis said. You've actually been paying attention when the captain speaks, good job. Except now you're in trouble...oh boy.
Westlake was grinning at her, a completely delighted expression on his face instead of the scowly one Elle was expecting. "You're perfect," he said. "That's exactly what we need."
Elle stared at him. ?
"I need someone like you at Fleet HQ," he said, patting her on the shoulder. "The council these days is too focused on shooting first and protecting our assets instead of talking things out and looking at the long-term goals, which, ideally, are exactly what you've been talking about. We need you to help us get there with what you know."
Elle's jaw dropped. "What?"
Kevin, behind her, looked like he was praying.
"I'll speak to Captain Kirk," Westlake said. "You could have whatever you wanted on Earth, or Vulcan, wherever you want to be based."
Elle felt somewhat faint, either because of or in spite of her giant lunch. "Is this an order?" she asked, her heart dropping to her toes. No, please, no, no...
"No it's not," Westlake said. "You are still a teenager, and I can't order you anywhere you don't want to go. But you could be the difference between war and peace in this century."
That was, that was kind of a big deal. And wasn't it better to go, of her own choice, than to be kicked off the ship by well-meaning captains? Wait, no, hold up. Didn't I say I'd rather die again than live in Politic Central? Where's your logic brain, you loser?
Elle cleared her throat. "That's, uh, a big offer, admiral, but you don't actually need me for that."
"How so?" He looked amused.
"If you haven't noticed, the universe I know kind of revolves around the Enterprise. It's not my presence, or my words, that'll change things. Spock, and Captain Kirk, are going to be instrumental in making friends with the Klingons. Spock, almost single-handedly, helps with the Romulans. I'm not part of any of that. But, for them to get there, they need to actually, you know, survive in the frontier where you put them, so unless the captain himself doesn't want me on the ship, then I'll stay where I'm most needed. By the people on the front lines. Who are facing things without Star Fleet HQ on the horn. Because you put them there to do their jobs. They're the ones that need my help."
"And on that note," said the most welcome voice in the world, "I'd appreciate it if you stopped trying to poach my civilian consultant who is, may I remind you Admiral, a minor, and speaking to her without a guardian present is highly inappropriate. Sir." Captain Kirk stepped neatly in front of Elle and faced Admiral Westlake with his best warning smile.
Kevin sagged in relief.
Westlake looked disappointed. "Of course," he said magnamaniously. "Just giving you options, in case you change your mind about having civilians on your ship." He nodded. "Captain. Miss Wilcott. Lt." He turned about-face and walked away.
Kirk waited till he was gone before turnning to Elle. "I changed my mind," he said. "I'm not letting you anywhere near those vultures."
She hugged him in relief.
"You have perfect timing, sir," Kevin said, sighing again.
"I wasn't gonna do anything," Elle protested.
"I wasn't worried about you," Kevin said. "I was worried I'd have to deck a superior officer."
Elle patted his arm. "Don't worry, Kev, I wouldn't let them court-martial you."
Kirk stifled a snigger. "And neither would I, lieutenant. Let's go back to the ship," he said.