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Chapter Ten
The Aftermath of Cerberus
By now, the whole crew of the Enterprise knew that Rosalind Kirk considered her hair her most important feature. She used only the best quality haircare products on it, gave it a hundred strokes with her brush in both the morning and the evening and it was always in some elaborate updo that would take most people hours but she somehow managed to pin into place in a few seconds. So yes, Rose took care of her hair. That was why everyone was so shocked that, the day after Cerberus' liberation, she had it in a messy plait that hung down her back.
It was very illogical, he knew. But the sight of Rose's plait caused a shiver of what he identified as unease to go up Spock's spine. His discomfort increased when he saw that she had no make-up on, revealing her pale face and the shadows under her black Betazoid eyes. Even during the Nero disaster, Rose had taken care of her appearance as much as possible.
She'd later revealed to him that she believed that if a captain was in a disarray, it would affect the crew. Her hypothesis was proven true by the anxiety that had started to run through the crew at the sight of their less-than-perfect commanding officer.
"Spock," she called at the sight of him, her voice not quite managing to conceal her exhaustion. "Are you cleared to return to the bridge?"
He nodded, stepping off the turbolift. Lt. Alden was blatantly happy to be relieved, casting a worried look at Rose as he made his way to the lift himself.
"Captain," Spock asked, tipping his head to the left. "Have you been on the bridge all night? If so, I highly advise you finish your shift and go to rest. You require a minimum of-" she cut him off, giving a tense smile and waving him off.
"It's good of you to be concerned, Spock," her voice was 'laced with steel' as the humans said. "But I've a lot to do, and I'm waiting for a connection to be established with Headquarters. I'll try and rest after I've given them report." With that, she looked back down at her PADD, dismissing him.
Spock was briefly stunned, he could privately admit. He was unused to Captain Kirk dismissing him in any manner. Spock privately prided himself on being Captain's Kirk's most trusted and most listened to advisor. It was disconcerting for her to ignore his opinions in any manner, let alone as curtly as she just had.
Spock was evidently not the only one surprised, as he spotted what he believed to be worry and bemusement on Chekov, Sulu and Yeoman Rand's faces as well. Quietly, Spock made his way to the science station, bending over it to scan the screen just as the turbolift reopened.
He glanced up briefly to see who was on Alpha shift for the communications station, only to stiffen as he spotted Lt. Nyota Uhura disembarking with her typical expression of what most of the crew described as 'haughty', on her face.
"Lt. Uhura," Rose said without glancing up. "You were due to take over from Lt. Farrell ten minutes ago. Do you have a reason for your tardiness?" Her voice was clearly showcasing her displeasure with the other woman's lack of punctuality.
Rose wasn't a harsh commanding officer. She had gotten rid of the rule of coming to attention when a superior officer arrived, deeming it a waste of time, and she interceded on several reprimands due to uniforms not quite adhering to regs. That said, if you went around embarrassing her crew you would swiftly regret it, and she hated lack of punctuality with a passion.
'There's letting my crew feel at home on the ship they're going to be living on for who-knows-how long,' he remembered her saying. 'And there's being unprofessional. I won't give anyone a reason to say my crew's anything less than the best of the best!'
"I was eating breakfast," the pause was just a beat too long to be excusable. "Ma'am."
Rose didn't look up, "Go to your station, Lieutenant," she directed. "Lt. Farrell, excellent work. Go get some rest, you've earned it."
Looking eager to remove himself from the tense atmosphere of the bridge, Farrell scrambled to the lift, giving a sloppy salute as he did so. Uhura stood in the same place for another moment before beginning to move. To Spock's dismay, she very deliberately brushed by him on her way to the communications station.
"I'm expecting a call from Headquarters," Rose told Uhura mildly. "When you receive it, I'll be alerted on my PADD and you can patch it through to my ready room."
Spock wondered if she was warning the other woman of something. He wasn't certain but he thought she might be. He would request that Rose explain the subtexts of the conversation later when the stress of the mission was over. They worked in an uncharacteristic silence for once with Uhura occasionally shooting contempt-filled glances at the captain until finally Rose went to her ready room, giving Spock the conn.
Rose entered the room, drooping slightly with exhaustion. Unsurprisingly, she hadn't slept since this whole mess had begun. What was a shock, though, was the sight of Rosalyn's tired face on the screen.
"I thought you were on the colony," Rose blurted out. That was just further proof of her fatigue. Rose never 'blurted out' anything. She took great care to choose her words. Rosalyn grimaced at her in reply.
"I'm just here because of Cerberus," she explained, running a hand through her greying hair, done in its own plait. (Dutch in comparison to Rose's French. The similarities and differences between them were oddly significant to the younger version.)
"So what's the situation?" Rosalyn asked briskly, smoothing down her Admiral's uniform and sitting straighter. Rose copied her unconsciously.
"Out of the seven thousand colonists, we've about five thousand and fifty-something survivors," she began, adopting a distant tone for the sake of keeping her sanity intact. "As far as we can tell, the whole government was wiped out by the pirates, and their families were taken to be held as hostages.
Everyone is traumatized and hungry, and most of them need medical attention. My people are doing their best, but they can't cope with these numbers. The Defiant's gone. Scotty took a group to check out the crash site but it looks like the pirates stripped it. Nothing to salvage.
The pirates themselves are all either in custody or dead as far as we can tell, but I haven't begun questioning them just yet. I thought that I should report first."
Rosalyn nodded absently, flattening her braid. "Good call," she sighed. "Don't bother with the questioning. Whoever takes over from you will be able to handle that." She sighed again, looking worn-out and haunted. "I suppose we'll have to close the colony. The Four know that no one will want to step foot on the planet again. If it's even liveable after the crop damage."
"I don't know," Rose admitted. "I can have Botany preform a preliminary survey to see, if you like?"
"Yes, that'd be helpful if you can manage it," Rosalyn agreed. "How's the Enterprise handling everything?"
"My crew doesn't have the numbers to deal with this," Rose admitted to her counterpart lowly. "And," she hesitated before continuing. "I can't cope with this. I need to get away from this. My shields are barely holding."
Rosalyn nodded understandingly, a knowing look in her eye. "I get it," she assured her. And, of course, she did. A brief, stressful conversation had established their almost-identical experiences on Tarsus IV.
"Reinforcements, who have the ability and numbers to deal with this, will be there by late tomorrow, two days at most," Rosalyn went on.
Rose noticed a stray strand of hair falling loose from her braid, and felt a stab of worry that her own appearance was as messy.
"Then, as soon as you've briefed them, you can return to your previous course. And we have a psychologist, Dr. Elizabeth Dehner, en route to join your crew too."
Rose frowned at her tone. "You knew her?" She guessed, Rosalyn shrugging slightly. If she were here, Lady Ophelia would be horrified at 'such uncouth actions'. If she hadn't already fainted from horror at her granddaughter's unkept appearance, that is.
"Briefly," Rosalyn admitted. "She was assigned to my ship just before we caught the Valiant's distress signal. She was affected by the ESP attack, though not as strongly as Gary. She was killed."
"What was she like?"
"She had firm opinions," Rosalyn answered after a moment of thought. It had been a very short acquaintance a very long time ago after all.
"And she didn't understand Spock, unsurprisingly. She showed symptoms later than Gary and while we were discussing what to do about him, Spock mentioned that Gary wasn't human anymore. She took insult to him stating that. Personally, I think she let it cloud her judgement. In the end though, she sacrificed herself to stop him. Of course, that was my universe. I haven't met her in this timeline so I can't say anything for this realities' version of her."
Rose sighed and rubbed her temples. "I need Uhura off the ship," she suddenly confessed and Rosalyn blinked, cocking her head to side in an echo of Spock's head tilt.
"She's constantly projecting feelings of contempt and bitterness and, I, I just can't do it anymore. I need her gone. I know she was one of your friends but-"
"No," Rosalyn shook her head in disagreement. "Commander Nyota Scott-Uhura was one of my friends. Lt. Nyota Uhura is, to be blunt, a spoilt brat. It's your ship, your crew. Do what's best for it, don't try and copy me."
"Thanks," Rose slumped back in her chair, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders.
"Leave her on Cerberus," Rosalyn replied. "I'll send her orders for her reassignment today."
"Thanks," Rose repeated. "Enterprise out."
Rosalyn nodded respectfully back at her. "Starfleet out." The screen went out and Rose spent several minutes just staring blankly at it before she abruptly found herself making her way to Bones' quarters.
She opened the door and stepped in softly. For the first time since Archer's comm, a smile broke out on her face. The sight was heart-warming and she felt herself being reinvigorated by it and the feelings of love and safety and contentedness that was flowing from the two McCoys.
She leaned against the doorway and revelled in the atmosphere of the room as Bones gently rocked his daughter, whispering an old story to the half-asleep Joanna. He glanced up at her, and sent a mental invitation. She pressed away from the doorframe and went to sit beside them. If they felt like a family, instead of a father, daughter, and their friend. Well. No one had to know, did they?
