*****
Her stomach growled in protest. Not only had she skipped breakfast, she skipped lunch too. Only one interruption had broken her concentration. Phlox had checked up on her, to offer her a sedative if she needed it. That was when she realized it was time for dinner. Declining the doctor's offer and assuring him that she had gotten enough sleep to choke a horse last night, Hoshi continued working at her terminal.
She had searched through the entire Starfleet database for Mukai and had come up with eight possible matches. The only problem with those matches was they were all male. Chewing her lip contemplatively, she pushed away from the desk and rubbed her eyes. Information on Mukai was as elusive as information on Malcolm. It was as though someone had erased her as well, which left her no alternative. She was going to have to take a chance and hack deeper into the database again.
Cracking her knuckles, Hoshi hunkered down and prepared for another sleepless night. Although she doubted the back door she used to find the information on Malcolm still existed, she tried that first.
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop and waited for the uplink to be established, trying to keep her thoughts from straying toward Malcolm. He still seemed lost to her, but now there was something new about him. He seemed so unsure of himself his first week back. Now, he seemed ...dangerous.
Was it her overactive imagination, or was it the fact that there was a certain intimacy between them now. Hoshi couldn't control her thoughts as they naturally meandered down the path she promised herself, she would never think about again.
The computer chirped and invaded her musings. Without wasting any time, she entered the search – Mukai, female, medical personnel. Mere seconds passed before the search returned results.
Her hand hovering over the button, she couldn't help but resent the summary of the search she found herself staring at. "Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division."
Excitement and dread pooled in her stomach. This had to be the woman Dr. Demarco referred to in the log. She would be able to help Malcolm, perhaps shed some light on his past. Envy crept erringly into her thoughts as she clicked for the entire article.
"Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division. Born January 14, 2124. Died May 17, 2153."
Hoshi's hopes sank. It was Mukai's obituary. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Hoshi numbly read the rest of the column.
"Ms. Mukai is survived by her mother, Nia Mukai. Services are May 20 at the Memorial Gardens, San Francisco, CA."
A picture accompanied the short, succinct summary of the woman's life. Except for subtle differences, Hoshi would have thought she was looking at a picture of herself. Mukai's hair was long and down around her shoulders, and the woman smiled to someone behind the camera. This had to be her.
--
He was the last one left, sitting alone in the mess hall. She hadn't come for dinner and Malcolm started to speculate whether or not Hoshi was okay. Finally tiring of pouring over the same specifications for the Intrepid, Malcolm sought her out. He squelched his usual propensity for seeking her out immediately, counting his obsession with her as something unnatural and unwelcome for her. She would have to seek him out.
She had shown him kindness and he felt like a heel for taking advantage it. He sipped the tepid coffee and stared at the mess hall door, silently daring it to open. Sleep eluded him and he wondered if her insomnia had rubbed off on him.
As if the god of luck was smiling at him, the door slid open and Hoshi walked in. The set of her shoulders looked as though she had something weighing heavily upon her, but he remained in the shadows, not wanting to add to her burdens.
--
She sat down at the nearest table, unaware of her silent observer. The salad she chewed tasted like cardboard and the only sensation she registered as pleasant was the cool trickle of water down her throat, but even the water didn't go down easily. Hoshi had gone to Malcolm's quarters to show him what she had found, but he never answered.
Feeling like a failure, Hoshi stared down at the PADD in her hand. Certainly it wasn't her fault that Mukai was dead, but she felt like it was. She stared at picture. Was she smiling at Malcolm behind the camera? Was he taking the picture? She read the few words that summarized the woman's life. It was only a paragraph and not a very long one at that. It seemed so unfair – to have one's life defined in such a harsh way.
Unable to stop the tears, she let them fall freely, not even trying to wipe them away.
Hoshi sniffled and startled as the shadow in the corner moved and Malcolm made his presence known.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Dashing the tears away angrily, Hoshi clasped the PADD to her chest. She never cried and she hated for anybody to see her do so. It wasn't her fault the 'other woman' was dead. Why did it matter anyway? The evidence of his past was sketchy at best. They were drawing conclusions and Mukai may have absolutely no connection with Malcolm.
He stood over her, his worry over her outweighing his curiosity in the PADD she clutched to her chest. Kneeling next to her, Malcolm cautiously touched her sleeve and repeated his question. "What's wrong?"
"She's dead," she whispered.
"Who?"
Hoshi handed him the PADD. "Mukai."
It was like watching a bizarre accident, hopes and theories colliding and exploding into unrecognizable ash. He took the PADD and absorbed the information as though he were looking at a daily report. Staring at the picture, he willed his memory of this woman to surface.
Lita Mukai looked like Hoshi -- same shape face and jet black hair, those being the only resemblance. Even as the woman in the picture smiled, Malcolm could see a cold aloofness in her eyes, one that made him uneasy. Hoshi, on the other hand, held nothing but warmth and caring within her, and Malcolm embraced the decision to look no further for his past. His past, what was so obviously hidden from him, needed to stay in the past.
He clicked the PADD off and tossed it on the table and turned Hoshi in her chair. "You've got to stop this. How long did you spend looking for this? Have you gotten any more sleep? Did you eat?"
Each question was met with silence.
"You're pushing too hard... me and yourself," he said. "You've got to stop."
Hoshi looked up at him with an argument in her eyes, but was quickly silenced with a stern look.
"Please," he whispered and pulled up a chair. Grabbing her hands in his, he continued. "You need to stop looking for my past."
He silenced the last of her argument with a squeeze of his hands.
"It's hidden for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, but the more I find... you find... Well, I don't think I want to be the person I was. It's obviously upsetting you..."
"No it doesn't," she argued.
"Then why were you crying?"
She took a steadying breath. "Her obituary just seemed so short... so pointless. Mukai was twenty-nine when she died, and..."
"It doesn't matter anymore. Can't you see?" Malcolm exhaled sharply. "I only remember you... when I woke up. I can't explain how I know some things but not others. I've read the schematics of weaponry and engineering and think to myself "Oh yeah, I remember that." As far as I'm concerned, my past started when I woke up. I'm tired of trying to force... memories to the surface. It's time to move on."
A long silence stretched between them, his thumb rubbing concentric patterns in the palm of her hand. Malcolm leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "In regards to ... us... You're no substitute. She had dark hair and so do you. Other than that, I see little comparison. A man would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be attracted to you."
Blushing, Hoshi looked away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Malcolm squeezed her hand reassuringly and let it go. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters."
She watched him leave, wanting to call out to him, yet unable. Picking up the PADD and turning it on, Hoshi deleted the information. He was moving forward, why shouldn't she?
*****
Her stomach growled in protest. Not only had she skipped breakfast, she skipped lunch too. Only one interruption had broken her concentration. Phlox had checked up on her, to offer her a sedative if she needed it. That was when she realized it was time for dinner. Declining the doctor's offer and assuring him that she had gotten enough sleep to choke a horse last night, Hoshi continued working at her terminal.
She had searched through the entire Starfleet database for Mukai and had come up with eight possible matches. The only problem with those matches was they were all male. Chewing her lip contemplatively, she pushed away from the desk and rubbed her eyes. Information on Mukai was as elusive as information on Malcolm. It was as though someone had erased her as well, which left her no alternative. She was going to have to take a chance and hack deeper into the database again.
Cracking her knuckles, Hoshi hunkered down and prepared for another sleepless night. Although she doubted the back door she used to find the information on Malcolm still existed, she tried that first.
She drummed her fingers on the tabletop and waited for the uplink to be established, trying to keep her thoughts from straying toward Malcolm. He still seemed lost to her, but now there was something new about him. He seemed so unsure of himself his first week back. Now, he seemed ...dangerous.
Was it her overactive imagination, or was it the fact that there was a certain intimacy between them now. Hoshi couldn't control her thoughts as they naturally meandered down the path she promised herself, she would never think about again.
The computer chirped and invaded her musings. Without wasting any time, she entered the search – Mukai, female, medical personnel. Mere seconds passed before the search returned results.
Her hand hovering over the button, she couldn't help but resent the summary of the search she found herself staring at. "Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division."
Excitement and dread pooled in her stomach. This had to be the woman Dr. Demarco referred to in the log. She would be able to help Malcolm, perhaps shed some light on his past. Envy crept erringly into her thoughts as she clicked for the entire article.
"Lieutenant Lita Mukai, Senior Field Medic, Sierens Division. Born January 14, 2124. Died May 17, 2153."
Hoshi's hopes sank. It was Mukai's obituary. Not knowing whether to laugh or cry, Hoshi numbly read the rest of the column.
"Ms. Mukai is survived by her mother, Nia Mukai. Services are May 20 at the Memorial Gardens, San Francisco, CA."
A picture accompanied the short, succinct summary of the woman's life. Except for subtle differences, Hoshi would have thought she was looking at a picture of herself. Mukai's hair was long and down around her shoulders, and the woman smiled to someone behind the camera. This had to be her.
--
He was the last one left, sitting alone in the mess hall. She hadn't come for dinner and Malcolm started to speculate whether or not Hoshi was okay. Finally tiring of pouring over the same specifications for the Intrepid, Malcolm sought her out. He squelched his usual propensity for seeking her out immediately, counting his obsession with her as something unnatural and unwelcome for her. She would have to seek him out.
She had shown him kindness and he felt like a heel for taking advantage it. He sipped the tepid coffee and stared at the mess hall door, silently daring it to open. Sleep eluded him and he wondered if her insomnia had rubbed off on him.
As if the god of luck was smiling at him, the door slid open and Hoshi walked in. The set of her shoulders looked as though she had something weighing heavily upon her, but he remained in the shadows, not wanting to add to her burdens.
--
She sat down at the nearest table, unaware of her silent observer. The salad she chewed tasted like cardboard and the only sensation she registered as pleasant was the cool trickle of water down her throat, but even the water didn't go down easily. Hoshi had gone to Malcolm's quarters to show him what she had found, but he never answered.
Feeling like a failure, Hoshi stared down at the PADD in her hand. Certainly it wasn't her fault that Mukai was dead, but she felt like it was. She stared at picture. Was she smiling at Malcolm behind the camera? Was he taking the picture? She read the few words that summarized the woman's life. It was only a paragraph and not a very long one at that. It seemed so unfair – to have one's life defined in such a harsh way.
Unable to stop the tears, she let them fall freely, not even trying to wipe them away.
Hoshi sniffled and startled as the shadow in the corner moved and Malcolm made his presence known.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.
Dashing the tears away angrily, Hoshi clasped the PADD to her chest. She never cried and she hated for anybody to see her do so. It wasn't her fault the 'other woman' was dead. Why did it matter anyway? The evidence of his past was sketchy at best. They were drawing conclusions and Mukai may have absolutely no connection with Malcolm.
He stood over her, his worry over her outweighing his curiosity in the PADD she clutched to her chest. Kneeling next to her, Malcolm cautiously touched her sleeve and repeated his question. "What's wrong?"
"She's dead," she whispered.
"Who?"
Hoshi handed him the PADD. "Mukai."
It was like watching a bizarre accident, hopes and theories colliding and exploding into unrecognizable ash. He took the PADD and absorbed the information as though he were looking at a daily report. Staring at the picture, he willed his memory of this woman to surface.
Lita Mukai looked like Hoshi -- same shape face and jet black hair, those being the only resemblance. Even as the woman in the picture smiled, Malcolm could see a cold aloofness in her eyes, one that made him uneasy. Hoshi, on the other hand, held nothing but warmth and caring within her, and Malcolm embraced the decision to look no further for his past. His past, what was so obviously hidden from him, needed to stay in the past.
He clicked the PADD off and tossed it on the table and turned Hoshi in her chair. "You've got to stop this. How long did you spend looking for this? Have you gotten any more sleep? Did you eat?"
Each question was met with silence.
"You're pushing too hard... me and yourself," he said. "You've got to stop."
Hoshi looked up at him with an argument in her eyes, but was quickly silenced with a stern look.
"Please," he whispered and pulled up a chair. Grabbing her hands in his, he continued. "You need to stop looking for my past."
He silenced the last of her argument with a squeeze of his hands.
"It's hidden for a reason. I don't know what that reason is, but the more I find... you find... Well, I don't think I want to be the person I was. It's obviously upsetting you..."
"No it doesn't," she argued.
"Then why were you crying?"
She took a steadying breath. "Her obituary just seemed so short... so pointless. Mukai was twenty-nine when she died, and..."
"It doesn't matter anymore. Can't you see?" Malcolm exhaled sharply. "I only remember you... when I woke up. I can't explain how I know some things but not others. I've read the schematics of weaponry and engineering and think to myself "Oh yeah, I remember that." As far as I'm concerned, my past started when I woke up. I'm tired of trying to force... memories to the surface. It's time to move on."
A long silence stretched between them, his thumb rubbing concentric patterns in the palm of her hand. Malcolm leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "In regards to ... us... You're no substitute. She had dark hair and so do you. Other than that, I see little comparison. A man would have to be deaf, dumb, and blind not to be attracted to you."
Blushing, Hoshi looked away.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Malcolm squeezed her hand reassuringly and let it go. "If you need me, I'll be in my quarters."
She watched him leave, wanting to call out to him, yet unable. Picking up the PADD and turning it on, Hoshi deleted the information. He was moving forward, why shouldn't she?
*****