Red

By Laura Schiller

Based on: Star Trek: Picard

Copyright: Paramount +

/

When Agnes Jurati stepped out of the wardrobe room in full evening wear, Cristóbal Rios' mouth went dry at the sight.

Madre de Dios, what a dress! It was the last thing he would have expected Agnes to choose, but it was perfect for her. Her white skin and golden hair glowed against the wine-red fabric, and the plunging neckline was almost impossible to look away from. Somewhere she'd even found red lipstick that matched the dress. If they were still together, he would have pulled her close and kissed that lipstick away in a matter of seconds … but no. He had no right to do that anymore. Besides, even if he had, this was a mission, not a date. She was going to the gala to hack the security system so that the rest of their crew would be able to protect Renée Picard.

"Do I want to know," she said, frowning as she picked up handfuls of her silk skirt, "Why there are so many women's clothes in the replicator database on your ship? Or why they all look like something the femme fatale in a Dixon Hill program would wear?"

"It's not my ship, remember? It's the Confederation Rios'. And yeah, you probably don't want to know."

Agnes made a face as she adjusted her bodice. "It didn't even fit me. Too big in the chest. I had to alter it. You know they still have needles and thread in Sickbay … ?"

Something about the mention of Sickbay must have struck a nerve, because her eyes unfocused and she turned even paler beneath her makeup than she already was. Her nervous hands were everywhere, pushing back her hair, tugging her sleeves. Cris could only imagine what must be going through her head right now. Only hours ago, he and the rest of the crew had found her in Sickbay, her white lab coat stained with the Borg Queen's blood.

"Agnes, you don't have to do this," Rios blurted out in spite of himself. "Stay here. One of us can go. I'm sure Seven or Raffi could - "

"Uh-huh. I'm sure they could." Agnes' pallor was replaced by an angry flush. "I know you don't think I'm capable - "

"I never said that. When did I say that?"

"Why the roboticist and not the ex-spy or the Ranger?" She mimicked his accent with uncanny precision. He winced.

"That's not what I meant. You've been through something traumatic, the last thing you need is another dangerous mission - "

"Don't you tell me what I need, Rios!" Her voice rose to an ear-piercing pitch that made him step back involuntarily. "We've all been through something traumatic. I'm not the one who just cracked his head open and got hauled off to jail because someone fucked up on the transporter controls. What we need right now is to fix the goddamn timeline and we've only got three days to do it, so excuse me if I don't take the time to talk about my feelings!"

She swept past him with a rustle of silk and a sharp, if somewhat unsteady, click of high heels. He swallowed several sharp retorts, as well as the impulse to grab her by the arm and keep her here on board. For the life of him, he couldn't understand her. In some ways, she was such a transparent person, but the parts of her he needed to know most were a mystery. If she didn't love him, if their history meant nothing to her, why was she so angry? But if it did mean something, why had she left?

She had almost reached the door to Picard's holographic study, where the rest of the crew was waiting to run over the plan one more time, when Cris finally registered everything she'd said. Someone fucked up on the transporter controls … The bitterness of her tone was even more painful when he realized that at least some of it had to be directed at herself. She had to be the only person he knew, including Raffi, whose self-esteem was even lower than his own. Just once, he wished Agnes could see herself the way he saw her.

"Hey." He ran after her and reached out a hand, but stopped just short of touching her. "Don't blame yourself. The transporter thing was an accident, that's all. Anyone can wipe out on the sidewalk." He rubbed the back of his head, which still ached a little, and smiled ruefully. Honestly, it wasn't his injuries that bothered him; it was thinking of Teresa and the rest of his compatriots, whom he had no choice but to leave behind. But Agnes didn't need to know that, not right now; not on top of everything else they'd been through.

"You could've been killed," she said, in a tiny voice that shook him worse than her scream had done.

"Yeah, well, so could you." He dared to take another step closer. "But look, here we are. Still alive. You're more than capable of carrying out this mission. It's just … that doesn't mean you have to."

She looked up at him with pale blue eyes too big for her face, eyes that seemed to see right through him to follow whatever ghosts were haunting her.

"But I do have to," she murmured. "You don't know … " She shook her head and pressed her hands to her temples. "I mean," she put on a determined, shaky smile. "Anything's better than doing nothing. You know what it's like."

"Yeah … yeah, I know." Cris did know all too well what it was like. After Captain Vandermeer's death, it had been La Sirena that saved him; his work as a freighter captain, risky and not-quite-legal as it was, had kept him sane by giving him purpose. What purpose did Agnes have now, except for their mission? She had to go.

"Have fun, eh?" He put on his best devil-may-care grin. "If it helps, imagine you're on the holodeck. And don't forget, we'll be right behind you as soon as you inject our IDs. You're not going into this alone."

The look on Agnes' face when he said that was one of bleak despair. She didn't believe him, or else she actually wanted to be alone. The last time she had looked at him that way was when she'd told him it was better if they kept things professional. He'd tried to argue, but there was no changing her mind.

It was not very professional of him to lean into his teammate's personal space, brush her soft curls back and kiss her on the forehead, but he did it anyway.

Catching one last glimpse of her face as she pulled away, he saw that she was blushing - and the darkness in her eyes, at least for the moment, was gone.