Engage
By Laura Schiller
Based on: Star Trek: Picard
Copyright: CBS
/
"You're staring at me," said Elnor, arching an upswept eyebrow and lowering his sword. "Why?"
Agnes, who had been fascinated by the sight of him whirling, flipping and leaping around the holographic training arena at lightning speed, flushed bright pink and backed up several steps. "I wasn't – I mean – sorry, am I bothering you?"
"You didn't answer my question. Do I frighten you? Or … " A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Do you find me handsome?"
She looked him up and down. Black eyes. Golden skin. Elegantly pointed ears. A lithe, strong body that could kill with the grace of a dancer … "Both, I guess."
"You're very pretty too, Dr. Jurati," he said coolly. "For a human."
"Really?" Agnes squeaked.
"But that doesn't mean you get to interrupt my training." He lifted his sword and struck the opening pose of his exercise. "Please go away."
Agnes fled, feeling about a dozen things at once, first among them the feeling of being about fourteen years old.
Wow, she'd been right earlier. The Way of Absolute Candor really was annoying.
/
Raffi should have known that when she went to raid Rios' drinks cabinet, she'd find that her fellow Starfleet reject had already had the same idea. His feet were up on the table in the mess hall, his chair tipped back, and several bottles of Chateau Picard in front of him, one already empty.
He raised his glass to her, waving her toward the opposite chair. "Sit down, will you? Have some. For a tight-ass with a martyr complex, our friend makes one hell of a good wine."
"I know, right?" She grinned ruefully as she picked up another glass from the cupboard. "He bribed me with the '86 to come here."
She poured herself a generous glassful and plumped herself down.
"What's the deal with you and Picard anyway?" He wiggled his eyebrows. "Ex-lovers?"
"Pfft! Come on!" She punched him on the arm, making him yelp.
It took three glasses until Raffi was drunk enough to answer that question seriously.
"He was my hero," she said. "Then he let me down."
"I had a hero once," said Rios. "I let him die."
They caught each other's eyes, clinked glasses, and shared a sardonic smile.
With any luck, Raffi thought, they'd both be too wasted to remember this the next morning.
/
"So what's she like, your sister?" asked Narek, his tone a masterpiece of casual inquiry even as every atom of him tensed with impatience.
Soji, tangled up in standard-issue blankets, her face propped up on her hand, smiled warmly, but her blue eyes were worried. "Amazing. Really smart. She's a fellow at Daystrom, did I tell you? I just … I wish she'd answer my messages."
"You're worried about her?"
"It's silly, I know." Soji sighed, tracing the interlocked ring pattern of her necklace. "Mom promised me just yesterday that everything was okay. I mean, we're adults, right? She's probably just busy with her new job."
"You're not silly. It's natural to care."
Narek pulled her close, soothing her, even as his own mind raced with conflicting emotions.
Gods, she was realistic for an android. Everything about her spoke of love and concern. She seemed – he realized this with horror – more sincere than Narek's own sister was. When he thought of Narissa, with her cold hands and colder eyes, he felt his entire worldview dangerously close to unraveling.
I should hate you, Soji Asha, he thought for the millionth time. No – not even that. One does not hate a weapon of mass destruction. One simply dismantles it.
But what frightened him even more was the fact that once she found out the truth about Dahj, she would be the one to hate him.