"Listener" pt. 2.
by M.
"So...snow?" He glanced over at her, watching as Calandre tilted her head back, closing her eyes, to feel the wind on her face.
"Not yet." She answered after some moments. "But it's coming. Inevitable, the changing of seasons." Knowing eyes opened to meet his. "She's calling you back, isn't she?"
"Or, maybe I just won't let her go."
"Maybe." Calandre allowed.
"Decker'll make a good captain. He's got the right stuff for it." He said, telling himself as much as her. "It's why I recommended him."
"Hmm..." She hummed, letting him slip an arm about her waist. "The right stuff...what about the right ship?" Stopping, she turned to face him, that mysterious, indefinable awareness in her gaze. "Perhaps, the ship makes the captain as much as the captain makes the ship." Her eyes tracked the progress of her words in his expression. "Enterprise is a legacy as old as Starfleet, and not an easy one to take on. It's also not an easy one to carry...or to let go of."
"You know what I'm thinking, don't you?" He asked, brushing a palm along her cheek, her skin made cold by the evening air.
"I'm not a telepath, Jim." She responded gently. "But, I don't need to be to know your thoughts... I remember the young man who walked into my bar those years ago. James Kirk and the Enterprise are a fit. Better than I've ever seen. I believe that ship needed you as much as you needed it. The question is...what does it need of you now? Are your needs the same?" She reached up, brushing a fingertip over his lip. "You know as well as I, if the ship is yours, it will be yours. If it is his, then it is his. Nothing will pull him from that chair."
"It was a mistake." He admitted. "Giving her up. Part of me always knew it, the others tried to tell me..."
"But you didn't wish to listen." Calandre smiled, eyes lighting. "There is much distance between hearing words spoken, and listening to their truth. But, I think, you already know that."
"If I do," He responded, bringing her lips to his, kissing her. "It is because I learned it from you."
"No you didn't." She disagreed after kissing him again. "But you flatter me by saying it anyway."
Jim chuckled. "At least part of it worked."
They began moving again, the gravel and rocks of the beach crunching beneath their boots, the sound of the water's movement a soft counterpoint to the harsher sound. At some point, Calandre's hand slipped down into his and their fingers entwined.
It hadn't changed. The shoreline was the same, the salt air was as fresh and bracing as ever, it seemed as if everything had frozen in time when he'd left, remaining unchanged, awaiting his return. It was a silly fantasy but he mulled it over anyway. Casting Calandre as a mysterious seer, a woman of myth, whose power sustained and kept the place the same. Making it her sanctuary from the world.
He dismissed that thought, knowing that the town was not her sanctuary, she was theirs. That the same serenity and wisdom that had drawn him years before drew others to her now.
"Are all El-Aurians like you?"
The question seemed to come from nowhere, it certainly didn't fit the conversation they'd been having, but as always, Calandre seemed unsurprised.
"We are as different as humans...but in the same way, we all Listen." She smiled a little. "Some are better at it than others..." She paused, looking up at the stars. "A friend of mine, a dear old friend, is one of the best I have ever seen. Guinan...She has a skill for it that I lack. You would like her, I think, very much." A wicked grin touched her lips. "She would certainly like you."
"Oh really?" He leered playfully, relaxing, and making her giggle. "Would she now?"
"Oh yes, Guinan is a woman of great humor." Calandre paused then added. "She would appreciate that rather peculiar sense of humor you have."
"I do not have a peculiar sense of humor." He protested, summoning up an expression of offense. "My humor is quite well-received I'll have you know. I've reduced the leaders of some planets to tears of laughter."
"I won't ask how." She said swiftly, dropping his hand and dodging his attempt to grab her. "But I'm sure if I were to, it would be no doubt involve nudity and a well placed tricorder?"
His eyes widened, recalling just such an incident, and then narrowed suspiciously. "Who told you about that? Bones?"
"I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Dr. McCoy." She responded formally, eyes dancing with laughter. "In fact, I haven't met any of your crewmates. Hiding me away are we, Admiral?"
"Oh definitely." He lunged forward, catching her and pulling her into his arms. "You're my favorite secret. Don't want Spock or Bones wooing you away for themselves." The mention of his friends reminding him of Spock's departure for Gol and the rites of Kolinhar. "But you have little worry of that...Spock's gone."
Calandre's eyes saddened at the pain behind the words. "Perhaps."
"What?" He met and held her gaze, searching for any hidden truths. "Do you know something?"
"I know many things." She answered calmly. "I can't answer your question, Jim. I can't tell you why he went. But I can tell you this...for as much as things change...they always remain the same."
"That makes absolutely no sense." Jim responded immediately and, to his surprise, she smiled.
"Doesn't it?"
She was waiting for him the next time he came, as always, but this time, she'd braced herself. He could see it in her eyes. The expectation of an explosion. It was wintertime and a furious snowstorm was raging through the harbor, making walking impossible. But he hadn't tried. Instead, he'd had a Starfleet transporter technician beam him right down into the Dockside's entranceway.
The bar was understandably empty. The lights were dim, and Calandre sat at a corner table, watching the fury of the storm outside, a two cups of coffee sitting on the table before her.
She turned, her eyes revealing her knowledge of the situation, understanding. Without moving, she indicated the empty chair at the table.
Just as silent, he moved to the table, sitting down and wrapping his hands around the white ceramic of the mug. The coffee was piping hot. Fresh. He didn't ask how she'd known of his arrival. She always knew. "My son is dead."
Calandre nodded once. "I know."
She always knew. "Did you know? Before? Why didn't you warn me?"
The tight rage in his voice didn't seem to alarm her. There was no anger in her eyes, no fear. She leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "If I had known what was going to happen, I would have. El-Aurians know many things, Jim. Sometimes we know before they happen. I knew something was terribly wrong...that something was going to happen. I didn't know what. If I had..." She looked grieved, feeling his pain as if it was hers. "I wish I had."
He closed his eyes, pushing back a wave of fresh grief, of rage, and loss. "David..."
Calandre moved, left her chair and knelt beside his, reaching for him. Jim didn't resist, letting her pull him into an embrace. He let the tears come then, hot against the warmth of her skin, and tried to lose himself in the reassurance that was her presence. His son was dead. The son he'd never truly known. Lost. The Klingons had ripped him away. Had ripped out a part of him he hadn't really understood that he'd had. The maelstrom of grief, rage, sheer agony and deep, utter desolation threatened to pull him under and he railed against it.
"Jim." Her voice pierced through it and he felt himself being pulled to his feet, guided toward the stairs that lead to her living quarters. Numbly, he let himself be lead. Let her walk him to her bedroom, strip him out of his uniform, and settle him beneath the warmth of her covers. When she joined him, the silk of her skin brushing over hers, and drew him into her body, he felt the pain and grief drain away. The tears came again afterward, his head on her breast, her hand stroking over his hair, soothing the hurt until sleep came to claim him. A deep, bottomless sleep where the nightmares could not reach him.
Standing on the bridge of the Enterprise B, the eyes of the reporters on him, Jim heard the word El-Aurian and frozen. Calandre's people. He remembered the look on her face that morning, when she'd seen him putting on his uniform, getting ready to go. She'd been unsettled for days. Listless. Waking from nightmares every night.
Something was wrong. She knew it. She'd been unable to articulate it but had finally admitted, it was the same feeling she'd had years before. Before he'd lost David. Something was terribly wrong and she didn't know what.
Now, listening as the reports filtered in, he understood. Something had happened to her people. Calandre knew that. She'd yet to understand what.
Resolve settled in and he was acting even before he was aware of what he was doing. He couldn't change whatever had happened but he'd be damned if he was going to let those people die. Refugees. From what he didn't know. He'd heard reports of refugees from an alien race arriving in Federation space, all refusing to speak of what had happened to them. The El-Aurians, it seemed. He wasn't surprised. El-Aurians, in his experience, were not accustomed to being in the position of needing someone to listen.
His focus narrowed to saving as many of them as he could, to doing his duty. So focused, that when the moment came and the Enterprise's hull ruptured, he realized too late what was happening. What it was that had Calandre had felt.
Losing him.
He reached out, toward the ship, as if by that act he could save himself. As if Enterprise would reach out and pull him back. That, by sheer force of will, he would be back aboard, heading home to the place that had become his sanctuary. With Calandre in her beloved little town.
Calandre...
The thought of her name, of her, whispered across space and time to where the El-Aurian woman stood in Newfoundland. She was at the bar, turning with a drink in hand, to smile at a patron when it reached her, racing through her awareness and hit with the impact of a phaser blast.
Jim...
The glass slipped from numb fingers as the horrifying realization sunk in, as she felt the energy that was the Nexus rip Jim from her awareness, stealing a piece of herself with it. Before the horrified patrons of the bar, Calandre collapsed, a moan of grief escaping her, darkness rushing up to greet her. In that second, time slowed to an imperceptible crawl, and she felt herself change. Felt the loss of him...his presence with her and yet not.
Then he was gone.
And she with him.
"Captain Kirk..."
Opening his eyes to the sterile, well-lit environment of a starship's sickbay, he winced, rubbing at his forehead then squinted at the dusky-skinned woman standing beside him. "Where..."
"The USS Farragut." She responded, smiling simply. "We're headed back to Earth."
"Soran..."
"Gone." She lowered her eyes. "He's where he wanted to be...Where he already was, really."
"Dead." He finished, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Where's Picard?"
The woman grinned. "No doubt lecturing his first officer. Most captains prefer to come back to find their ship in one piece."
"Generally we do, yes." Jim agreed with a chuckle. "So, no tour of the new Enterprise for me, huh?"
"Not until they build the next one. I'm afraid you'll just have to content yourself with your friends' opinion of it." Pulling herself up onto the biobed beside his, the mysterious woman said nothing else, letting him come to the realization on his own.
Friends.
Plural?
He'd expected Spock to still be alive but...she'd implied more than one. He frowned. "Who are you?"
Her eyes filled with a familiar look of mirth. "Guinan."
Guinan. It took a moment to remember where he'd heard the name before. Calandre's friend. The one who, according to her, would appreciate his humor. "You're..."
"El-Aurian. Like Soran...and Calandre. Yes." She nodded once again. "We were both on the Lakul. Soran and I." Guinan's attention went to the past. To the Nexus. "Our world was gone. Those of our people not taken by the Borg were scattered. El-Aurians are not a combative people. There's an expression on Earth, lambs to the slaughter. We didn't stand a chance against them. Soran's family...they were lost in the attack. He died in that moment. Unlike the rest of us, he never wanted to be saved. You've been to the Nexus. You know..."
"What it was." He nodded, remembering the countless lives he'd played out. Marrying Carol. Staying with Antonia. Never once, though, never once had he gone back to Botwood. To the Dockside. To Calandre. Perhaps, he'd always known the unreality of it and, in a way, she and that place had always been the very essence of reality to him.
"It was the closest Soran could get to having his family back. The closest he could get to feeling alive." She sighed. "Things are as they should have been now." She cast a grin in his direction. "Well....almost." Getting up, she moved toward the door. "By the way, Captain, Calandre was right. I do like you."
He grinned in response, then sat back, reaching up to rub his forehead again. "Wonder if they've still got aspirin in the 24th century?"
Nearly a hundred years since the last time he'd seen it and still, the town of Botwood hadn't changed. The homes were the same, the waterfront the same, Starfleet officers still came to the town while their ships were reprovisioned. The uniforms were different. But still 'Fleet.
For as much as things change...they always remain the same... Calandre's words of a century before came back as clearly as if she'd just spoken them and he smiled to himself. How much the same was now the question. Guinan had answered some of his questions about the 24th century, Picard so many more, he'd spoken to Scotty and Bones...was ready to strangle Spock for his little pilgrimage to Romulus - reunification indeed - and had tracked down some of the descendants of his crew but he hadn't asked about Calandre.
Not that he needed to.
Walking into the Dockside, he found exactly what he'd expected to.
Calandre smiled and set a beer on the bar for him. "You're late." She observed, looking just as she'd had the last time he'd seen her though, in her eyes, there was an otherworldly quality he didn't remember. She'd always seemed ageless but now...there was something else. Something, he suspected, that had come from losing him to the Nexus.
He walked over, reaching out to take the drink, "Got lost for a while." Sipping the drink, he returned her smile. "Sorry."
Calandre surveyed his features for a long moment before brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "Hungry?"
Jim grinned and reached for her, "Starving."
Finis
by M.
"So...snow?" He glanced over at her, watching as Calandre tilted her head back, closing her eyes, to feel the wind on her face.
"Not yet." She answered after some moments. "But it's coming. Inevitable, the changing of seasons." Knowing eyes opened to meet his. "She's calling you back, isn't she?"
"Or, maybe I just won't let her go."
"Maybe." Calandre allowed.
"Decker'll make a good captain. He's got the right stuff for it." He said, telling himself as much as her. "It's why I recommended him."
"Hmm..." She hummed, letting him slip an arm about her waist. "The right stuff...what about the right ship?" Stopping, she turned to face him, that mysterious, indefinable awareness in her gaze. "Perhaps, the ship makes the captain as much as the captain makes the ship." Her eyes tracked the progress of her words in his expression. "Enterprise is a legacy as old as Starfleet, and not an easy one to take on. It's also not an easy one to carry...or to let go of."
"You know what I'm thinking, don't you?" He asked, brushing a palm along her cheek, her skin made cold by the evening air.
"I'm not a telepath, Jim." She responded gently. "But, I don't need to be to know your thoughts... I remember the young man who walked into my bar those years ago. James Kirk and the Enterprise are a fit. Better than I've ever seen. I believe that ship needed you as much as you needed it. The question is...what does it need of you now? Are your needs the same?" She reached up, brushing a fingertip over his lip. "You know as well as I, if the ship is yours, it will be yours. If it is his, then it is his. Nothing will pull him from that chair."
"It was a mistake." He admitted. "Giving her up. Part of me always knew it, the others tried to tell me..."
"But you didn't wish to listen." Calandre smiled, eyes lighting. "There is much distance between hearing words spoken, and listening to their truth. But, I think, you already know that."
"If I do," He responded, bringing her lips to his, kissing her. "It is because I learned it from you."
"No you didn't." She disagreed after kissing him again. "But you flatter me by saying it anyway."
Jim chuckled. "At least part of it worked."
They began moving again, the gravel and rocks of the beach crunching beneath their boots, the sound of the water's movement a soft counterpoint to the harsher sound. At some point, Calandre's hand slipped down into his and their fingers entwined.
It hadn't changed. The shoreline was the same, the salt air was as fresh and bracing as ever, it seemed as if everything had frozen in time when he'd left, remaining unchanged, awaiting his return. It was a silly fantasy but he mulled it over anyway. Casting Calandre as a mysterious seer, a woman of myth, whose power sustained and kept the place the same. Making it her sanctuary from the world.
He dismissed that thought, knowing that the town was not her sanctuary, she was theirs. That the same serenity and wisdom that had drawn him years before drew others to her now.
"Are all El-Aurians like you?"
The question seemed to come from nowhere, it certainly didn't fit the conversation they'd been having, but as always, Calandre seemed unsurprised.
"We are as different as humans...but in the same way, we all Listen." She smiled a little. "Some are better at it than others..." She paused, looking up at the stars. "A friend of mine, a dear old friend, is one of the best I have ever seen. Guinan...She has a skill for it that I lack. You would like her, I think, very much." A wicked grin touched her lips. "She would certainly like you."
"Oh really?" He leered playfully, relaxing, and making her giggle. "Would she now?"
"Oh yes, Guinan is a woman of great humor." Calandre paused then added. "She would appreciate that rather peculiar sense of humor you have."
"I do not have a peculiar sense of humor." He protested, summoning up an expression of offense. "My humor is quite well-received I'll have you know. I've reduced the leaders of some planets to tears of laughter."
"I won't ask how." She said swiftly, dropping his hand and dodging his attempt to grab her. "But I'm sure if I were to, it would be no doubt involve nudity and a well placed tricorder?"
His eyes widened, recalling just such an incident, and then narrowed suspiciously. "Who told you about that? Bones?"
"I'm afraid I haven't had the pleasure of meeting Dr. McCoy." She responded formally, eyes dancing with laughter. "In fact, I haven't met any of your crewmates. Hiding me away are we, Admiral?"
"Oh definitely." He lunged forward, catching her and pulling her into his arms. "You're my favorite secret. Don't want Spock or Bones wooing you away for themselves." The mention of his friends reminding him of Spock's departure for Gol and the rites of Kolinhar. "But you have little worry of that...Spock's gone."
Calandre's eyes saddened at the pain behind the words. "Perhaps."
"What?" He met and held her gaze, searching for any hidden truths. "Do you know something?"
"I know many things." She answered calmly. "I can't answer your question, Jim. I can't tell you why he went. But I can tell you this...for as much as things change...they always remain the same."
"That makes absolutely no sense." Jim responded immediately and, to his surprise, she smiled.
"Doesn't it?"
She was waiting for him the next time he came, as always, but this time, she'd braced herself. He could see it in her eyes. The expectation of an explosion. It was wintertime and a furious snowstorm was raging through the harbor, making walking impossible. But he hadn't tried. Instead, he'd had a Starfleet transporter technician beam him right down into the Dockside's entranceway.
The bar was understandably empty. The lights were dim, and Calandre sat at a corner table, watching the fury of the storm outside, a two cups of coffee sitting on the table before her.
She turned, her eyes revealing her knowledge of the situation, understanding. Without moving, she indicated the empty chair at the table.
Just as silent, he moved to the table, sitting down and wrapping his hands around the white ceramic of the mug. The coffee was piping hot. Fresh. He didn't ask how she'd known of his arrival. She always knew. "My son is dead."
Calandre nodded once. "I know."
She always knew. "Did you know? Before? Why didn't you warn me?"
The tight rage in his voice didn't seem to alarm her. There was no anger in her eyes, no fear. She leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "If I had known what was going to happen, I would have. El-Aurians know many things, Jim. Sometimes we know before they happen. I knew something was terribly wrong...that something was going to happen. I didn't know what. If I had..." She looked grieved, feeling his pain as if it was hers. "I wish I had."
He closed his eyes, pushing back a wave of fresh grief, of rage, and loss. "David..."
Calandre moved, left her chair and knelt beside his, reaching for him. Jim didn't resist, letting her pull him into an embrace. He let the tears come then, hot against the warmth of her skin, and tried to lose himself in the reassurance that was her presence. His son was dead. The son he'd never truly known. Lost. The Klingons had ripped him away. Had ripped out a part of him he hadn't really understood that he'd had. The maelstrom of grief, rage, sheer agony and deep, utter desolation threatened to pull him under and he railed against it.
"Jim." Her voice pierced through it and he felt himself being pulled to his feet, guided toward the stairs that lead to her living quarters. Numbly, he let himself be lead. Let her walk him to her bedroom, strip him out of his uniform, and settle him beneath the warmth of her covers. When she joined him, the silk of her skin brushing over hers, and drew him into her body, he felt the pain and grief drain away. The tears came again afterward, his head on her breast, her hand stroking over his hair, soothing the hurt until sleep came to claim him. A deep, bottomless sleep where the nightmares could not reach him.
Standing on the bridge of the Enterprise B, the eyes of the reporters on him, Jim heard the word El-Aurian and frozen. Calandre's people. He remembered the look on her face that morning, when she'd seen him putting on his uniform, getting ready to go. She'd been unsettled for days. Listless. Waking from nightmares every night.
Something was wrong. She knew it. She'd been unable to articulate it but had finally admitted, it was the same feeling she'd had years before. Before he'd lost David. Something was terribly wrong and she didn't know what.
Now, listening as the reports filtered in, he understood. Something had happened to her people. Calandre knew that. She'd yet to understand what.
Resolve settled in and he was acting even before he was aware of what he was doing. He couldn't change whatever had happened but he'd be damned if he was going to let those people die. Refugees. From what he didn't know. He'd heard reports of refugees from an alien race arriving in Federation space, all refusing to speak of what had happened to them. The El-Aurians, it seemed. He wasn't surprised. El-Aurians, in his experience, were not accustomed to being in the position of needing someone to listen.
His focus narrowed to saving as many of them as he could, to doing his duty. So focused, that when the moment came and the Enterprise's hull ruptured, he realized too late what was happening. What it was that had Calandre had felt.
Losing him.
He reached out, toward the ship, as if by that act he could save himself. As if Enterprise would reach out and pull him back. That, by sheer force of will, he would be back aboard, heading home to the place that had become his sanctuary. With Calandre in her beloved little town.
Calandre...
The thought of her name, of her, whispered across space and time to where the El-Aurian woman stood in Newfoundland. She was at the bar, turning with a drink in hand, to smile at a patron when it reached her, racing through her awareness and hit with the impact of a phaser blast.
Jim...
The glass slipped from numb fingers as the horrifying realization sunk in, as she felt the energy that was the Nexus rip Jim from her awareness, stealing a piece of herself with it. Before the horrified patrons of the bar, Calandre collapsed, a moan of grief escaping her, darkness rushing up to greet her. In that second, time slowed to an imperceptible crawl, and she felt herself change. Felt the loss of him...his presence with her and yet not.
Then he was gone.
And she with him.
"Captain Kirk..."
Opening his eyes to the sterile, well-lit environment of a starship's sickbay, he winced, rubbing at his forehead then squinted at the dusky-skinned woman standing beside him. "Where..."
"The USS Farragut." She responded, smiling simply. "We're headed back to Earth."
"Soran..."
"Gone." She lowered her eyes. "He's where he wanted to be...Where he already was, really."
"Dead." He finished, pushing himself into a sitting position. "Where's Picard?"
The woman grinned. "No doubt lecturing his first officer. Most captains prefer to come back to find their ship in one piece."
"Generally we do, yes." Jim agreed with a chuckle. "So, no tour of the new Enterprise for me, huh?"
"Not until they build the next one. I'm afraid you'll just have to content yourself with your friends' opinion of it." Pulling herself up onto the biobed beside his, the mysterious woman said nothing else, letting him come to the realization on his own.
Friends.
Plural?
He'd expected Spock to still be alive but...she'd implied more than one. He frowned. "Who are you?"
Her eyes filled with a familiar look of mirth. "Guinan."
Guinan. It took a moment to remember where he'd heard the name before. Calandre's friend. The one who, according to her, would appreciate his humor. "You're..."
"El-Aurian. Like Soran...and Calandre. Yes." She nodded once again. "We were both on the Lakul. Soran and I." Guinan's attention went to the past. To the Nexus. "Our world was gone. Those of our people not taken by the Borg were scattered. El-Aurians are not a combative people. There's an expression on Earth, lambs to the slaughter. We didn't stand a chance against them. Soran's family...they were lost in the attack. He died in that moment. Unlike the rest of us, he never wanted to be saved. You've been to the Nexus. You know..."
"What it was." He nodded, remembering the countless lives he'd played out. Marrying Carol. Staying with Antonia. Never once, though, never once had he gone back to Botwood. To the Dockside. To Calandre. Perhaps, he'd always known the unreality of it and, in a way, she and that place had always been the very essence of reality to him.
"It was the closest Soran could get to having his family back. The closest he could get to feeling alive." She sighed. "Things are as they should have been now." She cast a grin in his direction. "Well....almost." Getting up, she moved toward the door. "By the way, Captain, Calandre was right. I do like you."
He grinned in response, then sat back, reaching up to rub his forehead again. "Wonder if they've still got aspirin in the 24th century?"
Nearly a hundred years since the last time he'd seen it and still, the town of Botwood hadn't changed. The homes were the same, the waterfront the same, Starfleet officers still came to the town while their ships were reprovisioned. The uniforms were different. But still 'Fleet.
For as much as things change...they always remain the same... Calandre's words of a century before came back as clearly as if she'd just spoken them and he smiled to himself. How much the same was now the question. Guinan had answered some of his questions about the 24th century, Picard so many more, he'd spoken to Scotty and Bones...was ready to strangle Spock for his little pilgrimage to Romulus - reunification indeed - and had tracked down some of the descendants of his crew but he hadn't asked about Calandre.
Not that he needed to.
Walking into the Dockside, he found exactly what he'd expected to.
Calandre smiled and set a beer on the bar for him. "You're late." She observed, looking just as she'd had the last time he'd seen her though, in her eyes, there was an otherworldly quality he didn't remember. She'd always seemed ageless but now...there was something else. Something, he suspected, that had come from losing him to the Nexus.
He walked over, reaching out to take the drink, "Got lost for a while." Sipping the drink, he returned her smile. "Sorry."
Calandre surveyed his features for a long moment before brushing his cheek with her fingertips. "Hungry?"
Jim grinned and reached for her, "Starving."
Finis