Author's Note: Thank you! You all are so lovely, and your kind words of support mean the world to me.
This chapter is part two of a double drop.
If you did not read Chapter 114 first – I strongly recommend you go back!
This is the final chapter of the Enterprise-C storyline (for now). There is a short epilogue that follows.
This conclusion doesn't tie up all of the loose ends. Like Richard's ribbon, the details of that incident have become frayed. But threads remain in the memories of those connected to the event – threads that will unravel in later stories.
In the meantime, there is still the matter of the Romulan conspiracy.
Trigger warning: Strong language, violence, injury, death, big honkin' space guns. There's a tiny, non-explicit intimate scene at the end.
Love is lovelier the second time around.
- Sammy Cahn
Admiral Jarok stood in front of the viewscreen on the Bridge of his ship.
Jarok was normally Morak's shadow. He went where the General went. But with all the preparations needed for the Emperor's arrival, Jarok had remained at Ekloire to oversee the work.
The base was on alert ever since word of the situation at Lantera and the arrival of Starfleet.
In accordance with Commander Sela's orders, Jarok was under orders to mount an offensive - but only with the full force of the remaining Ekloire fleet.
And that took time.
There were departure protocols, quarantines, and resupply checklists.
It was an arduous process to mobilise so many troops – though there was nothing to indicate Sela's forces were in any danger.
Long lines stretched from the departure checkpoints.
Overhead, the computerised announcement system directed fresh troops where to go as they took up their positions in the ships and on Snakehead attack fighters in the shuttlebays.
In a way, Jarok was grateful for this incident. It provided an opportunity to field test this division before they launched the next phase of their plan against the Federation.
Jarok had strong reservations about readiness.
Morak was a brilliant commander, though he had a tendency to be rash – especially when cornered.
The bulk of their force had minimal training. The conventional school of Romulan military thought considered these troops disposable.
Many of the senior officers were aristocrats – distant cousins, the nieces and nephews of prominent senators, or the children of allies that wanted a favour.
The fleet was rife with nepotism.
A select few were the most well-educated and brilliant young minds in the Empire.
Jarok counted Sela among them.
But most were there by the virtue of their names only. They lacked the discipline and temperament necessary for command.
Men like Jarok were few. It was his great burden to navigate what was best for the Empire through the metaphorical cesspool of politicking and familial factionalism.
As he watched the troops below, like ants in the dirt, Jarok wondered how many of them would live to the next year.
"Admiral? I'm detecting an unusual spike in radiation. Long-range sensors indicate a massive wave of radiation. It's moving fast," the officer at the helm advised.
"Point of origin?" Jarok inquired.
"Unknown. It-"
The officer whipped around in his seat.
"Impact in less than three minutes."
He didn't wait for permission. The Centurion clicked to project his own terminal onto the secondary viewscreen.
Jarok had studied enough of the Lantera reports to understand this wave of radiation meant the power source had likely gone supernova.
And that there was nothing they could do to stop it.
"Release the docking clamps. Get us out of here. Lay in a course for the… Sector 28," Jarok said, naming the first thing that came to mind.
"But, sir? The docking ports are full of-"
"There's no time!" Jarok snapped.
He punched the comms system hard enough to crack the exterior plating on the button.
"By order of Admiral Alidar Jarok, all ships are to immediately depart for Sector 28. Maximum warp."
The scene below was complete and utter chaos. Klaxons blared. Docking ports were sealed as the ships initiated their departure sequence – trapping hundreds of young Uhlans with no way out.
Those docking tunnels were exposed as the ships pulled away. All the trapped people were blown out into space.
The neat lines of eager troops broke. Terrified people pushed and shoved each other as they ran in no particular direction.
There was nowhere to go.
And in the last moments before her destruction, Ekloire was sheer panic.
The pride of the Empire - and General Morak's triumph - was blown away along with billions of talons, years of work, and tens of thousands of lives.
The most advanced Romulan military outpost to date was reduced to nothing more than a memory.
Sela's breathing had slowed, and the medic advised it was best to keep her sedated until they were on ship or starbase with proper medical facilities.
"I think she may have an acute subdural hematoma. She's bleeding inside of her head," the medic explained.
"Then fix it," Korenus hissed.
The medic flinched.
"I can't. This type of injury is so rare for Romulans."
They had thicker skulls.
"I can try to keep her alive until we reach starbase. But she needs a doctor and fully equipped Sickbay," the medic said.
The shuttle shook. There was a noticeably lurch as it dropped out of warp. The klaxons started to blare as the computer ran through a list of impacted systems.
"What now?" Korenus asked.
"I don't know," Liran answered from the helm.
Something hit the ship causing them to drop out of warp.
"It could be residuals from the plasma storm, or we may have the tail end of a quantum filament," Liran suggested.
He ran a quick diagnostic and confirmed most of the ship's systems were still operational. They had only been momentarily interrupted.
"I can get us back to warp in twenty minutes," Liran assured him.
Korenus glanced down at Sela, looking so small and helpless lying under the window. Every minute counted.
"Get it done," Korenus barked.
Korenus took up his seat on the floor near Sela again. He reached for her hand, caressing it with his thumb as Liran worked on the ship.
Soon the engines hummed to life and the warp drive was back online.
And once more, it dropped out of warp.
"Engines again?" Korenus asked.
Liran shook his head.
"No. We're here. I don't understand."
Instead of being greeted by the impressive sight of Ekloire Starbase, they found nothing.
"You sure you input the right coordinates?" Merul asked.
"It should be here!" Liran insisted, running a navigation check just to confirm.
Korenus was starting to panic. Sela was clinging to life.
"It can move, right? Run a sweep. Maybe they've changed location because of the plasma storm?" he suggested.
Liran tapped the screen and activated the long-range sensors.
"Nothing. No… wait," he said. "It's not the base. I show a ship inbound."
"Keep the cloak up," Korenus ordered.
This shuttle was their only means of escape. Korenus wanted to be sure it was friend or foe before he revealed his presence.
There was a flash of light and a large Romulan cruiser dropped out of warp.
"Uncloak and dock on the first shuttlebay."
It was a hail from the other ship.
The three men shared a confused look.
Sela's shuttle was specially equipped to mask its warp signature. There should have been no way for the other ship to detect their presence.
The viewscreen blinked with an incoming message. It was General Morak from Bridge of his ship, the Vindicta.
"I am not accustomed to repeating myself," Morak sneered.
"General," Korenus said with a low bow.
Liran and Merul dropped to the floor.
"How did you know-"
"I had a tracking chip implanted in my daughter years ago. It's how I managed to prevent scum from abducting her and why she asked you to sneak into my office instead of doing it herself," Morak said. "And how I know she is in dire need of medical attention.
Morak looked more annoyed at the inconvenience than concerned for Sela's condition.
"Shuttlebay one. I have a team standing by."
Just as the channel disconnected, there was a small noise of commotion near the lift. Morak pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed in exasperation.
"Let me through," Aquilo demanded.
Before the guard could answer, Aquilo had him up against the wall with a knife at his throat.
"Do you know who I am? Do you know what these eagles on my cloak signify?" Aquilo hissed.
The guard knew this was the Emperor – but it was General Morak he feared.
"Welcome to the Bridge, your grace," Morak drawled.
Aquilo adjusted his collar.
"Are the towels not to your liking?" Morak inquired.
Aquilo sneered.
"Then it's true," Aquilo said as he nodded to the viewscreen.
He snapped and grabbed Morak's collar.
"How did this happen?" Aquilo snarled.
"You know as much as I do, your grace," Morak answered.
"When you came to me with this idea, I entrusted you with our fortunes," Aquilo roared. "Now you have ruined us all!"
Morak's hand shot out to stop Aquilo's fist, closing around his wrist. Aquilo struggled, but he was no match for his uncle.
"You will return to your quarters, and you will stay there until I return," Morak ordered.
"Unhand me! I AM YOUR EMPEROR!" Aquilo shouted, trembling with fury at this insult.
"And I put you there," Morak said, unperturbed. "You are on my ship, guarded by men loyal to me. And just because you wear the Imperial robes does not make you the head of this family."
He looked Aquilo up and down and chuckled.
"I put you on that throne and it is by my good grace that you remain there."
The next few days were critical. Morak was in complete damage control mode to mitigate the fallout from this crisis.
He smiled and cupped Aquilo's face as if he were a child.
"And so you shall stay, my lord," Morak said. "After all, I raised you for the burden of the throne."
Aquilo pushed away his hand.
"If there was one thing you taught me, Uncle, it was to trust no one," Aquilo said.
He took a step back and smiled.
Suddenly, another ship uncloaked.
"We're being hailed," the helm announced.
Morak's expression soured as a familiar and all too unwelcome figure appeared on screen.
He would recognise that sneaky smile even in the depths of the darkest Reman mine.
"Our beloved Emperor extended an invitation for me to join the celebration of our new starbase," the intruder said. "Though I fear I must have mistakenly input the wrong coordinates."
One day, Morak was going to wipe that smug look from his face.
"The base has been destroyed," Aquilo informed him.
"Oh dear."
Morak fought the urge to lash out.
"I am glad you are here, Fenthin," Aquilo said.
Fenthin.
Father-in-law.
He was Morak's greatest rival.
This was the snake that had weaselled his way into the heart of the Imperial circle of power and had deviously suggested a strategic union between his own bovine-faced daughter and the young Emperor so that he might one day rule through a grandchild.
Aquilo had been little more than a boy then and desperate for an act of rebellion against his domineering uncle.
Now that idiot, plain girl was just a step away from the throne. Though it wasn't all bad. Her barren womb meant Morak was closer to the throne than ever before – and it was better than watching his rival sink his teeth into an heir.
"I'll beam over to your ship immediately," Aquilo said.
Aquilo was no fool. He knew that it was only a matter of time before Morak made a move to displace him. It was why he had only agreed to travel with a secondary hidden escort.
"Of course, I have your quarters ready, my grace," the intruder said with a low bow. "And we should dine this evening. Would you join us?"
"It would be my honour to host," Morak offered.
They couldn't refuse – not with initiating an incident.
"How gracious," the man responded in agreement.
"Tomalak," Morak said with a small nod.
Colasau IX | The Neutral Zone
To any passing ship, the Enterprise looked perfectly peaceful sitting in the shadow of the dark side of Colasau IX.
The planet housed no life. The dense gas made it a perfect place to hide a ship.
Or three.
"I received a message ordering me to surrender my ship and crew to god knows who. You can imagine how I took that," Donald Varley said. "I haven't spent much time with Gregory Quinn the last few years, but I know that man is not Gregory Quinn."
Captain Rixx folded his long, slender hands on the table and sat forward.
"I too received the message shortly after your dispatch, Picard," Rixx explained.
The three Captains were holding an impromptu conference call from their respective Ready Rooms. Repairs were underway on all three ships as they tried to determine a course of action.
They had violated Starfleet protocols, disobeyed orders, crossed the Neutral Zone, and engaged in a direct conflict with the Romulan fleet.
"We can't stay out here forever. Sooner or later, they'll find us," Varley said.
"And they probably have every ship looking," Rixx added.
Jean-Luc sat back in his chair. He slowly swirled his cup of Earl Grey as he mulled over their options.
"And what of Captain Tryla Scott?" Picard asked suddenly.
She had been suspiciously absent.
"There's no way to know. She may have surrendered. She could be imprisoned - or dead. For all we know, she may have been compromised," Rixx said.
They all fell silent.
"I don't think we can shoot our way out of this one," Varley said.
Jean-Luc bristled.
"Well, we can't surrender. I'm responsible for the lives of every person on this ship. I have families, civilians, children to consider!" he roared.
Picard rose from his seat and began to pace behind his desk.
"And now I've exposed all of them to suspicion and charges, dragging them into the Neutral Zone," he went on. "One helluva frying pan to land in."
"You did the right thing, Picard," Rixx said.
"How's your team?" Varley inquired.
Picard's expression softened.
"They made it out," he answered.
Today was about victory, about overcoming insurmountable odds when things had looked their bleakest.
Jean-Luc didn't have the heart to tell them the rest of the story.
Tasha Yar stood behind the glass partition at the far end of Sickbay.
She had not moved from that spot since they had returned from Lantera.
Commander Riker and Miles had been treated for their injuries and sent home. Keiko had come to fetch Miles, smothering him with affection and relieved that he was back safe and sound.
Data had sat with Geordi until Doctor Crusher approved his release.
After walking Geordi home, Data had returned.
"I believe he wanted to do it," Data said.
"Doesn't make it right," Tasha replied.
Tasha remained stiff as Data threw his arm around her.
"He was so close," she whispered. "He doesn't deserve this."
It was utterly cruel to watch Richard Castillo die after all he had endured to escape.
She was furious at everyone and everything - the Romulans, the Iconians.
The universe.
When they first arrived, Beverly had considered it wasn't worth going through the decontamination procedure.
Richard Castillo was alive but very weak.
Tasha had popped off and Beverly relented.
Richard, who had been ready to collapse then and there and die a happy man, had agreed without hesitation if only to make Tasha happy.
"I can give you something for the pain," Beverly offered.
Richard took an unsteady breath, choking back the nausea.
"Need to keep a clear head," he replied.
Beverly gently squeezed his hand.
"You also have the right to die on your terms if that is your wish," she reminded him.
She could administer a fatal dose of any number of painless treatments that would allow him to slip off peacefully.
"No, I cheated death twenty years ago. This time, he can come to me," Richard said.
He paused.
"But there is one thing I would like."
"He's awake and alert," she began slowly. "But I can't do anything more. The dose of radiation was lethal. Honestly, it's a miracle he didn't die down there."
Tasha's mouth thinned.
"He shouldn't have been in there in the first place," she muttered without tearing her eyes away.
"He was only trying to help. There was no good solution," Data said.
"I hate no-win scenarios," Tasha said through gritted teeth.
Her face was hot. Beverly advised it was safe to go in. Castillo had asked for Tasha. Tasha wanted to run down to the fitness centre and beat her fists against the heavy bag.
"Would you like me to accompany you?" Data offered.
For the first time since they'd returned, Tasha turned to meet Data's gaze.
"I think I need to do this on my own," Tasha said.
"I will be here when you return," he promised.
He was sweet like that.
Tasha clutched his hand.
"No, you should go with the others. They're meeting in Ten Forward and then heading to Riker's. You should be somewhere better than here right now," Tasha said.
The Lantera mission had exacted a heavy emotional toll on Data. He wore it on his sleeve. And as much as Tasha wanted to be there for him, they both knew they could press pause.
Data would be there tonight.
Richard Castillo didn't have that kind of time.
"I'll catch you up," Tasha said.
Data kissed the back of her hand and then slipped away.
Richard's face lit up when Tasha walked into the room.
"Tuula," he said.
Tasha still wasn't sure what to think about that, about how he knew things he couldn't possibly know.
But she was certain that she needed to be there for him – with him- in his final hour.
"That was a stupid thing," Tasha said.
It slipped out before she could stop herself. Tasha turned away to hide her face, thumbing back hot tears.
"Nah," Richard replied.
"You're a great big oaf, you know that?" Tasha sobbed.
It was like music to Richard's ears.
"I owe you this one," he said.
They all owed Tasha Yar for taking one for the universe.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply that being here was some unpleasant task," she said quickly. "You deserve to go home and be with the people you love. Not this."
"You'd be surprised. Sometimes fate throws you a curveball," Richard said.
He had the funny look again, the one that made Tasha think he was holding something back – like he was clinging to a great secret.
One he was bursting to spill but couldn't.
Richard struggled to lift his arm. The radiation sickness had left him weak. He managed to point at the table.
"My mother," Richard said.
It was a small note.
"I've carried this for fourteen years. The name of every survivor that made it off the ship. Every one of our Klingon allies. The Romulans that became our friends. They're all written on the back."
His hand closed around Tasha's.
"Now I'm trusting it to you."
"I don't know if I can get this to her," Tasha confessed. "With all the travel restrictions and now it… it may be some time."
Castillo chortled.
"Time," he mused.
Richard closed his eyes and smiled.
"I don't want her to know that I suffered," he instructed.
Richard had learned from Tasha's research that Lucia Castillo had never given up hope.
He didn't have to tell his mother that he loved her – she already knew that. And there was no point in apologising for being gone because Lucia Castillo knew that wasn't his fault either.
"Tell her I found love there. That for all the lost time and pain, I found joy," he went on. "It was never as long as I'd liked, but-"
He paused and cleared his throat.
"It was just as strong and as lovely… meant just as much as a lifetime together."
"Your child," Tasha realised softly.
"And her mother," Richard replied.
It was as close as he dared to come to a confession.
"And tell my mum that all the times she felt that I needed her, or she needed me, that I was thinking of her, watching over her," Richard said.
They both knew Tasha would never be able to reveal the details nor date of Richard's death. He hoped that it would bring his mother comfort to think there had been some spiritual connection between them.
It would only crush her to know that he'd come so close to home only to die just shy of the metaphorical front stoop.
Richard wanted to give his mother closure.
"Will you stay?" he asked.
There was no danger to Tasha. But there was nothing more they could do to save Richard Castillo.
"Will you stay until-"
"I'm here."
Richard was overcome by a wave of nausea. He turned to the side and hurled into a strategically placed medical waste bucket.
Tasha simply rubbed his back until it was over. And when he was finished, she cleaned his face.
"I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable," Richard apologised.
"You're fine. I don't squick easily," Tasha replied.
"I mean asking you to stay," Richard clarified. ¬
He knew that she hated death, that she had seen far too much of it in her short life.
Tasha was desperate to change the subject.
"Would you like me to read to you or we could talk about something you like? If you want, I can get you anything from the replicator," Tasha offered.
"Ugh, I finally get the chance for a greasy cheeseburger, and I can't even keep anything down," Richard quipped.
That earned a smile from Tasha.
"Do you have any requests? Or a funerary custom you'd like us to honour?" Tasha asked.
Usually, Beverly or Doctor Selar handled end of life inquiries. But as she was there, Tasha thought it would be best to ask before it was too late.
"Just one."
Richard had to be slick about it. It was why he had asked Beverly to hold off on the pain medication. Castillo had to keep a clear head.
"Tell me about what your people do," Richard requested, feigning curiosity.
"Oh… uh, well. I'm not from Earth," Tasha replied, dodging the question.
Richard knew that.
He knew all about Turkana IV and her harrowing escape. He knew about the storms that rolled in late in the year and that Tasha loved to sit by the fire and listen to stories at her grandmother's feet.
And he knew that if she could do anything, Tasha Yar simply wanted the chance and time to figure out what she really wanted to do with her life.
She wanted to explore and learn and find something that made her feel joy.
Maybe working with animals or children? I think I'd like that. She had once said in that cave.
She had seen so much death. She wanted to work in a way where life was celebrated, where she didn't have to make decisions that ended in body counts.
Anything but the business of war.
"My people are different," Tasha said simply.
"And what, they don't die?" Richard teased, pushing just the right buttons.
Tasha snorted.
"We die all the time. The whole bloody planet reeks of death," Tasha said.
She dropped her gaze to her lap, embarrassed at having revealed information about Turkana.
"When I was a wee thing, I used to stare up at the sky and dream of living in the stars," Richard said. "I joined Starfleet so I could do that."
He was borrowing from something Tasha had once said.
"I wanted to escape into them. To sleep under a blanket of stars," Richard said.
Tasha was struck by a sense of kindred understanding.
"My people believe that when you die you join the stars," she shared. "And that people who die young shine the brightest."
She paused to study Richard's face.
"But you already knew that," Tasha said slowly. "Just like you knew my name. And Tuula. Sela. Azura."
Richard fell silent.
Tasha's grandmother had died at thirty-four.
"Did you know her?" Tasha asked.
She couldn't fathom how. As far as she knew, her grandmother had never left Turkana. But like Tasha, her grandmother had been a Yar in the service of Turgon's father.
And like Tasha, her grandmother had been used and abused by people that travelled from all over to watch the fights or partake in Turgon's offerings.
It was the only reasonable explanation she could fathom.
Yet Tasha didn't think Richard Castillo was that kind of person.
Castillo didn't answer the question. He knew honesty would only lead to a more extensive interrogation.
"I'd like to see the stars before I die," Richard said.
Beverly said nothing as Tasha heaved Richard onto a portable cot. He didn't have the strength to sit up or support his head much, so a wheelchair was out of the question.
Tasha wore a wry smirk the whole lift ride down to the lower decks.
"Whoa," Richard gasped.
"Best view on the ship," Tasha said.
It was one of her special places with Data.
Richard had made her promise that she would put his body in storage and return it to his mother with instructions that he be laid to rest in clear view of the moon.
"Lake of Clouds Overlook. She'll know," Richard instructed.
He managed to turn enough to glance over at Tasha.
"Are you alright? If this makes you uncomfortable-"
"No," Tasha insisted.
In fact, what frightened her was the fact she felt an unexplained connection with this man.
She would have loved to listen to him talk about his home. She wanted to know about this Lake of the Clouds and ask what it was like growing up surrounded by wilderness.
But she couldn't do any of those things because Richard Castillo was dying.
Tasha would never know him, not really.
And that stung.
"I have no right to ask you to stay with me. And you have every right to think I'm a royal creep," Richard acknowledged.
"I don't know what to think honestly," Tasha answered, picking at her fingernails. "But you saved all of us. And if being here gives you some comfort then it's the least I can do. I owe you that," she said.
Tasha sighed.
"It could have been me in that chamber," she said.
Castillo laughed.
"All duty," he said, teasing her.
Tasha was sitting on the floor next to him. She had lowered his cot near to the ground. She glanced up at him.
"This is no duty. You're a person. And you deserved a lot more. And you deserve to die with dignity and certainly not alone," she said. "In any case, don't talk to me about duty. You're the one that ran into the bloody chamber."
Richard laughed so hard he threw up again.
Tasha was ready with a clean flannel to wipe it away.
"Don't make me out to be a hero. Not when I asked for this. This… this is an act of pure self-indulgence," Castillo said.
Tasha shot him a look.
"Vomiting in a hospital gown?" she asked.
"Impressing you with my courage," Richard teased.
Tasha snorted.
"Ah, but I have a hot blonde wiping the vomit from my chin," Richard replied without missing a beat. "After twenty years of hard labour and torture. I deserve a little treat."
He winked and felt a surge of pride as Tasha's cheeks flushed.
"What?" Richard pressed.
"I suppose you have a right to try it on once before you go," she said.
"And my plan is working so well," Richard replied.
Banter was easy between them. She gave as good as she got, and Richard's mind was still sharp as ever. It was as if the lines between his timeline and this one had blurred and as if no time had passed between her death and now.
"Tell me about her," Tasha asked.
Richard feigned ignorance.
"About your girl. The one you-"
She stopped herself from saying 'lost.'
"The love you found," Tasha settled on.
Where Richard was all jokes and bravado, now he was a clam.
Tasha apologised.
"I'm sorry. It's obvious how much you loved her. I thought maybe talking about someone that-"
"She was the strongest person I ever knew," Richard said.
Tasha said nothing. She didn't want to interrupt. Castillo's whole demeanour seemed to change. His face lit up with excitement.
"And was the most beautiful person," he continued. "I don't mean she was-"
He stopped.
"She was very beautiful. Lovely. But what I mean is that she had this aura of compassion, resiliency, sunshine," he went on fondly. "It just… it radiated off her."
He recalled how that same energy had inspired Ahn, Sodan, and countless others to support the Romulan Free State movement.
Richard shared that there was part of her – not unlike a shell – that was… chilly.
"Cold and beautiful. Crisp. Like a morning frost," Castillo said. "But underneath that, she was all warmth and kindness. A wicked sense of humour. I think she was afraid of how big her heart could be."
It was her downfall.
"Not unlike you," Richard said. "I thought she was an angel the first time I saw her. Just like you."
He was staring at her again.
"That's why I asked if you would stay. If the last thing I see is you – happy and smiling-"
Alive.
"Then I know this will all have been worth it," Richard said.
He was going to die a happy man.
"We stopped the invasion force. I know you still have other threats to deal with, but this was worth it," Richard went on. "And you and that Mr Data are going to have a great life together."
Tasha's face flushed.
"Just look at you. You're glowing," Castillo said.
He gasped softly.
"You're glowing," he said. "I don't know how I missed it before."
Richard was trying to sit up now. He reached for Tasha's chin, directing her to look at him.
"I saw it that night in Ten Forward, but I didn't put it together before now," Richard said, overcome with a sense of excitement.
He'd been trying not to stare. Now, in the hour of his death, he finally had the chance to get a proper look at her.
She had a glow about her. It was the most beautiful thing.
Tasha's eyes were full of pity as she stroked his hair. She reasoned he had to be delirious from the pain.
"I've seen it before," Richard said.
He could recall with perfect clarity the way Tasha had seemed to shine the night he'd felt his son kick in her womb.
For all the tears and pain and loss, it was one of the happiest moments of Richard's life.
One he clung to.
"I know that you deserve this. And you're going to be so great," Castillo said, grinning like an idiot.
Castillo's grip was weak around Tasha's hand. He barely had the strength to speak. It slipped – or so she thought – toward her waist.
"I couldn't keep her safe," Richard said. "I couldn't protect any of them. But this time will be different."
Tasha didn't know what she could say to comfort him.
"I love you, Tuula," Richard whispered. "Ask my mum for the pickles."
Richard used his last bit of strength to clutch at the side of her uniform.
"The pickles," he insisted.
"Pickles, right," Tasha said. "I promise I'll get you home."
"I am. I'm going home," Richard said. "She's waiting for me."
He laughed. It was a slow, rasping laugh.
"Give me an hour of time and I'll give you something to remember me by," Richard murmured. "And hour you'll think about-"
He paused. His breathing became laboured.
"An hour you'll look back on in the twilight of your life. An hour that will make you ache for today."
Tasha Yar was certain she would ache for a long time over this.
History had forgotten these men. It had forgotten the Enterprise-C. That was the way it had to be. No one could know what they had sacrificed.
"I won't forget," Tasha said.
And Tasha felt it was her duty to promise Richard that. She wanted him to know someone would remember.
"I will remember you," she promised, squeezing his hand.
Castillo tried to laugh again and started to cough.
"You're an angel, you know that? You don't think you are but… damn, angel face, here you are," Richard said.
Richard's eyelids drooped. The pain was starting to fade. And it was increasingly hard to hold onto his train of thought.
"Do you see 'em?" he asked.
"I don't uh-"
"The fireflies," Richard whispered fondly as stared at the stars. "They're out tonight, Tuula. All around us."
Castillo managed to turn and meet Tasah's gaze, treating himself to one last look at those eyes.
"Tuula," he whispered fondly.
Richard Castillo expired at 23:44 hours.
Tasha sat in stunned silence as she stared at his lifeless body.
He didn't blink. He didn't move. His grip had gone slack.
And Tasha realised he would never flash her one of those goofy grins again.
She was horribly confused and completely distraught.
Tasha closed Richard's eyes for the last time. She pressed a soft kiss against brow and then collapsed, sobbing over his body.
That was where Beverly found her.
The good doctor didn't question it. She was just grateful Tasha had agreed in the first place.
Beverly sat down next to Tasha and stroked her back as she wept over Castillo's body.
"I'm so sorry," Beverly said.
"I don't know why I can't st-st-stop," Tasha confessed.
It disturbed Tasha that she was so grief stricken over a complete stranger. She had seen more death in her time than most people saw in a lifetime.
This one hit differently.
It hurt in a way she couldn't explain – like passing a stranger on a train and sensing some deep, cosmic connection that couldn't be explained.
And knowing that it would forever remain unexplained because they would never meet again.
"Data stopped by. He's really worried about you," Beverly said.
Tasha sat up and wiped her face on the back of her sleeve.
"Gods, what would Data think if he came down here and saw this?"
"I wager that he would think your heart is far too big, Tasha. Even though you try to hide it," Beverly said. "You're a protector. It's in your nature."
And the tears were back.
Tasha was horrified at Beverly's words. She scrunched up her face and sobbed uncontrollably. Beverly had no way of knowing her comment hit a little too close to something Castillo had said shortly before his death.
"I was monitoring his condition," Beverly said.
She had kept a portable KEEG monitor on Castillo just in case they needed to rush in. It read vital statistics and monitored the body's condition.
It also provided insight into a patient's emotional state.
"You should know that his last brain scans were relaxed. They registered comfort and affection," Beverly shared. "He died happy, Tasha."
Somehow this didn't ease the sting of loss.
"He left instruction. We have to put him in stasis in the morgue," Tasha sniffled.
"Of course," Beverly replied with a nod. "I'll leave you to it. To say goodbye."
Tasha could page her when she was ready.
Tasha turned to the large viewscreen behind them.
They were in orbit so the stars were visible in the same way they would be on the ground. It was hypnotic as they passed slowly by.
Tasha laid her head down on Richard's chest. She looped her fingers through his hand. The warmth had already begun to recede.
Tasha stared out at the inky expanse of space. The ship's running lights resembled the soft glow of the moon.
"Lunam et rionnag in nimbum Azura luca galad," Tasha whispered.
Tasha Yar was rattled. Guinan could sense it the moment Tasha stepped into Ten Forward.
Tasha almost stumbled on her way to the table in the corner. If Guinan didn't know any better, she would think Tasha had already had a snootful and then some.
"Whoa, hey," Guinan said, catching her arm.
"Guinan," Tasha said.
And in that moment, Guinan shifted from a cold sense of dread to deep sympathy.
"Do you want to talk about today?" Guinan offered.
Tasha didn't have to explain. Guinan knew.
"I don't know," Tasha confessed. "I don't know what I would say. I don't understand what I'm feeling."
Guinan's heart went out to her.
Tasha Yar was one of the few people Guinan had ever met that had such an unusual relationship to time itself.
Most people that travelled through time had only ever experienced a brief taste – like dipping a toe in the water.
Guinan knew Tasha was different. Her essence hadn't just tasted fractured time.
It was drenched in it.
She was standing under a waterfall with the crushing weight of different timelines constantly bombarding her very being.
Guinan took hold of Tasha's hand.
"Don't dwell on the road not taken," Guinan said.
Tasha took a step back and eyed Guinan with a mix of awe and terror.
"How could you-"
"You're where you are supposed to be, doing the things you should be doing," Guinan said.
She glanced over at the table where Data was waiting.
"With the people you love," Guinan said, squeezing Tasha's hand. "That's what matters. That's all that matters."
Data.
Guinan had just one question.
"Aside from all this Romulan business, how have you been feeling lately?" Guinan asked, her voice full of concern.
Tasha shrugged.
She hadn't really thought much about herself in recent weeks.
"I don't know. Um.. jitters about training."
Tasha desperately wanted to get back to normal – including the upcoming Sparring Tournament.
"Fatigue mostly. I feel like I have a cold but I think it's just all this stress and… business," Tasha chose to call it.
Tasha was pushing herself with all the late nights and early mornings.
"Have you been to see Doctor Crusher?" Guinan pressed.
"Nah, she doesn't need me wasting her time just because I'm busy punishing my body," Tasha replied, waving her off. "I'm not okay. But I will be."
She bit her lip and grinned.
"Can I get a double-"
"I'm still out of whisky," Guinan lied.
"A double order of nuclear nosh bean nuggets and a taco takeaway pack. Oh! And a pineapple fritter," Tasha said, wringing her hands.
Tasha bit her lip.
Guinan bit her tongue.
A part of Guinan wondered if Tasha was keeping things secret for a while or if she truly didn't know.
"You want the kitchen sink too?" Guinan asked.
"And a mint chocolate chip milkshake," Tasha squeaked.
Tasha was dying for a milkshake.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to bring you some of my sweet pea tea too," Guinan said.
Tasha frowned.
"That stuff you gave me when I had the?"
She trailed off and gestured to her appendix.
"Yeah. It helped, didn't it?" Guinan asked.
It was certainly better than the disgusting concoction Tasha had choked down on her own.
"I'll drop by your quarters tomorrow with some dry tea you can make anytime," Guinan said.
"Thanks," Tasha replied.
The mood around the table was subdued.
It had been a long, exhausting mission. No one was sleeping much, and they were all on edge.
Tasha slipped into a seat next to Data. To his surprise, she snuggled down in the crook of his arm. Tasha needed physical reassurance and sensed Data did too.
"I'm sure Captain Picard is working on a plan," Riker said.
"We do have three ships now," Beverly said.
"Yeah, but against the rest of the fleet?" Geordi asked in a hushed voice.
Deanna glanced around.
"Are you sure it's a good idea to talk about this here?" she asked.
"Most of the people present were involved in the mission today. The arrival of the Enterprise would indicate Captain Picard has informed the rest of the ship," Data said before he quickly added, "At least, of some details."
Jean-Luc had ordered them all to get some rest.
They would brief in the morning.
"Poker time?" Riker asked.
"Poker time," Worf agreed.
They packed up their takeaway and headed for the door. A night of poker was just what they needed to relax.
"Tasha? Are you coming?" Data asked.
"You know what? I think I'm going to sit this one out."
Tasha wasn't feeling much of anything at the moment.
"But you should go with them if you want," she said.
It would be some time before her food was ready and Tasha was more than happy to wait.
"What would you like to do?" Data asked as he pulled Tasha close.
"I just want to zone out for a while," Tasha confessed.
She sighed as Data stroked her hair.
"I would rather do nothing alone with you than spend time on any other activity," Data said.
They were at the far table in the corner. It was well after midnight. They could sit there as long as they wanted in silence and watch the stars.
"I love you, Data," Tasha said.
"I love you, too," he responded.
"I would have gone into that chamber for you," Tasha said.
"I know," Data replied. "That is why I wanted you to remain on the ship."
They were both too tired to get into it. They could dive into those feelings at their next counselling session.
"You frighten me, Tasha," Data confessed.
He kissed the top of her head.
"I love you," he assured her. "But I don't think I could take losing you."
Tasha laid her head in his lap, staring up at Data. She gently traced the line of his jaw with her fingers.
"I will always come back to you," Tasha promised.
Data and Tasha were still in the corner when Captain Picard strolled into Ten Forward.
The place was completely abandoned. Most of the ship were at home with their loved ones.
Jean-Luc took a seat at the end of the bar and picked up a small holographic placard advertising the daily special. It was a reminder that he still owed Wesley Crusher a long talk.
As he surveyed the room, his gaze fell on the couple in the corner.
Data was completely relaxed. He smiled down at Tasha as she poked the tip of his nose. Data caught her wrist, teasing her for a moment as they fought for control.
Then Data brought Tasha's hand to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger.
"You want to ask if it's all over. If this is the end of it."
Guinan had seemingly appeared from nowhere.
Jean-Luc didn't answer. He was fixated on the tender scene playing out before his eyes.
"I can't tell you that it is," Guinan said.
Picard grimaced.
"Now why did you have to do that? I didn't ask," Picard snipped.
He hadn't.
He didn't want to know.
He wished he had never asked in the first place.
"Things have happened. They will happen. The timeline has already been altered. And it will be," Guinan said.
"I never cared for riddles," Picard said.
"Yesterday and tomorrow influence today," Guinan said.
Guinan slid him a heavy pour of her best Sangiovese.
"I can't tell you that it's over, Jean-Luc. Because if you were to touch the surface of a pool of water, you would create a ripple," Guinan said.
Picard closed his eyes and released a long, heavy sigh.
He relaxed when he felt Guinan's hand atop his own.
"But what I can tell you is that?"
Jean-Luc followed her line of sight back to Data and Tasha.
"That is right," Guinan went on. "That transcends borders. And time. Biological. Synthetic. None of it matters because that," she said, nodding toward them. "That is the most powerful force in the universe. There is no greater force. Nothing is stronger than love."
Jean-Luc looked sceptical. It all felt a little hokey for his taste.
"And what they share? It's bigger than any timeline," Guinan went on.
"Alright. I know you're trying to cheer me up," Picard said.
Guinan didn't smile.
"Don't do that brooding pragmatist act with me," she warned.
Picard played the part, but he was truly a romantic under that crusty façade.
He glanced back at Data and Tasha. They were completely absorbed in their own world, captivated by one another.
It was a momentary reprieve from the darkness that awaited them.
"They will find that connection in every iteration, every unravelling of the fabric of time, every universe," Guinan continued.
She felt more certain of that than anything.
"Sometimes it's a fleeting moment, just the blink of an eye. In others it's a singular, powerful moment of passion. And in some, it's decades of companionship," Guinan continued.
She felt all of it.
The brief affair.
The universe where they were doomed to be a great unrequited love.
She knew of a friendship so deep that they didn't care about rumours or whispers.
Guinan saw children and grandchildren and milestones that would never be in this reality. Timelines where the ship went down and others where they would grow old - Data retiring to teach at Cambridge and Tasha teasing him over his streak of white hair (even though she found it adorable).
Yes, Guinan knew all of it.
She just didn't know which of those timelines they were in.
El-Aurian abilities were funny like that. She couldn't predict the future or even pinpoint which place in the space-time continuum she was currently in.
She just knew when things felt off.
"Those two?" Guinan said.
Data and Tasha shared a quick peck.
"They will always find each other. And that connection is no less diminished by time," Guinan concluded.
The gentle hum of the ship's environmental system kept a steady pace.
"Do you think if we asked that Captain Picard would let us take a shuttle to Føroyar tonight?" Tasha asked with a wicked grin.
She giggled.
"I will take you there," Data promised.
He nuzzled against her face. They shared a chaste kiss. After all, it was Ten Forward.
"I don't care how long it takes," Tasha said. "It's only a matter of time."
Captain Picard reflected on Guinan's assessment as he stalked the ship alone.
Sooner or later, they'd be flying back into danger. There was no telling what impact their mission would have on the Romulan infiltration or the state of interstellar affairs.
There would be serious repercussions for what they had done.
Picard may very well have started a new war.
But for the moment, the ship was quiet.
Friends and lovers were settled for the evening. Children were tucked safely in their cots, slumbering without any idea of just how close they were danger.
A part of him wanted to go to Beverly, but he figured she was probably up with Wesley. Picard didn't want to disturb that.
There was love and support everywhere on the ship.
And Jean-Luc was alone.
The burden of command. He mused.
Picard stopped in front of the large viewscreen near the rear of the ship.
It was the best view on the Enterprise. Jean-Luc realised this was the same spot where Richard Castillo had died hours earlier.
As he watched the nacelle trail, Jean-Luc wondered if love really was the most powerful force in the universe.
Powerful enough to start a revolution? To bring down an Empire?
It had been powerful enough for decades of silence and lonely pain - and Jean-Luc Picard wasn't just thinking of Richard Castillo.
It was enough for one man to hang on for more than twenty years.
To fracture time itself.
Tasha rinsed her toothbrush and then returned it to the sanitising chamber next to the mirror.
She was just about to call it a night when she turned and caught sight of herself in profile.
Tasha froze as she caught sight of her own reflection and made a face.
She had never been vain enough to care much about her weight. For Tasha, beauty came from strength, in knowing what her body could accomplish.
Tasha felt her most beautiful when she was knocking out the heavy bag in the fitness centre or in the midst of a long run.
That was part of why the whole ordeal with the prototype suits had been so difficult.
It had taken months to get back up to a weight where Beverly would approve workouts again. Then had come the travel restrictions and the Vico rescue mission.
In fact, ever since their time with Timothy aboard, Tasha had been struggling to get back into her usual fitness regime.
She grew fatigued faster. Her runs were shorter (or not at all). Even doing her day-to-day job had become a challenge.
It was one thing to drop her training regime. It was quite another not to take it into account when it came to other lifestyle changes.
It had been three months since they'd said goodbye to Timothy. Tasha could count on her fingers the number of workouts she'd actually completed in that time.
As she studied her own reflection, Tasha realised that perhaps she didn't need to pack away a double helping of sweet and sticky tofu if she wasn't burning it off at the gym.
Tasha lifted her t-shirt and cupped her abdomen.
She didn't feel shame or embarrassment about her body. Hell, she'd had a bigger food baby after visiting that 'all you can eat' burrito joint with Worf on Starbase 46.
Tonight, she had eaten a rather big dinner.
But there was an undeniable new layer of soft tissue atop flesh that had previously been firm.
And it wasn't just limited to one section of her body.
Unlike her previous takeaway offspring, Tasha found that she was softer and rounder in places she had never expected to find curves.
Tasha had recently gone up to a bigger uniform after it had grown tight in the arms and through the waist.
Tasha put her hands on her hips and turned to the side. She stood on her tiptoes in an effort to try and get a good view of herself.
Hello.
"An intergalactic treasure," Data teased.
Tasha stumbled. Her face flushed with humiliation at having been caught checking out her own backside as she spied a familiar shadow on the floor.
Yet, when she turned around and Tasha found Data eyeing her like he wanted to devour her then and there, all thoughts of embarrassment faded into the background.
"Are you coming to bed?" Data asked.
Tasha nodded quickly.
"I was just checking to see if there was any bruising," she lied.
It was a silly excuse and Data saw right through her.
Tasha slipped past Data and out into the main room of her quarters to set the security lock on the door.
"You were preening," Data teased.
"I don't preen," Tasha scoffed.
Tasha's tablet was sitting on the coffee table. It was blinking to indicate there was a new incoming message. Tasha picked up the tablet and tapped the screen to open it.
There was no subject line. The message was from an unknown sender.
Odd.
From the corner, Data watched as Tasha made herself busy in order to avoid eye contact with Data.
She had been preening. Data had stood in the doorway long enough.
"You were 'checking yourself out' as you say," Data went on.
"Data, I was just checking for bruising," she insisted.
Tasha clicked to open the message.
Do not leave the Enterprise on Stardate 43625.
Like any good Romulan, Proventus had a backup plan for his backup plan. It was a longshot, but he had managed to send a communique to Tasha's inbox before he ended his life.
Only Tasha Yar would never receive it.
"I don't check myself out," Tasha said as she threw a look back over her shoulder.
"You should," Data said simply.
Tasha was just about to read the contents of the message when Data swooped in. She made a small noise of protest as he swept her into his arms.
"Because I do it often. And because you are adorable – especially when you have been caught," he said.
Tasha squirmed as Data attacked his target, nipping at the side of her neck.
"Wait, wait!" she cried out.
Tasha didn't want to break her tablet.
"Oh, damn," Tasha cursed.
Data immediately stopped, looking sheepish as he set her down. She scowled as she swiped through her inbox.
"Have I done something wrong?" Data asked.
"No, no. I just must have deleted a message. Nothing important," she explained.
Tasha checked her trash folder, but the message was gone.
"No, honey! It's fine. It wasn't anything. There wasn't even a subject line. Probably one of those junk forwards," Tasha said.
She put the device to sleep and turned to Data.
"Nothing important," she said brightly.
Data moved in close.
"Then you are ready for bed?" he asked in a low voice.
Tasha slipped away, pretending that she didn't pick up on his line.
"Oh, I suppose," she said.
She threw her arms up to stretch, teasing him with an exaggerated yawn.
"Would you prefer to do that in front of the mirror or is this one for my benefit?" Data asked innocently.
He stepped over and pulled Tasha close.
"I could pull up a chair if you would prefer to preen."
Tasha swatted his chest as Data gripped her backside.
"You're lucky I love you," she said, nuzzling against his nose.
Data pulled Tasha flush against his body. His embrace was suffocating.
"Yes. I am," he breathed.
Epilogue
He was moving through the stars.
His steps were slow and marked by a sensation of weightlessness - not unlike a dream.
The air smelled fresh and sweet.
Woody.
There was blueberry, juniper… birch. In the distance, there was the smell of campfire and the musty, damp scent of wet earth.
And pine.
The fragrant aroma was nothing like the frozen void of space.
The wail of a loon cut through the dark.
And that was when Richard Castillo realised these weren't stars. He wasn't moving through space or drifting past constellations and the trail of asteroid belts.
That flicker wasn't from a ten-thousand-year-old sun in a distant corner of the galaxy.
No, they weren't stars.
Fireflies. He realised.
They were all around him, glowing and disappearing before popping up again to shine in a different spot between the trees.
The air was warm and stagnant with barely a hint of a breeze.
It was late August. The fireflies were out. Crickets chirped in the distance.
The sound of the woods – a mix of rustling leaves and nocturnal creatures serenaded the air. And above it all, he could hear the soft, steady beat as the lake rocked against the shore.
As Richard continued down this path (both foreign and familiar) toward an unknown destination, it was like a fog had lifted and his surroundings came into focus.
Now that things were clear, Richard could see the last dying rays of light reflecting off the lake.
It was a hot night.
Richard knew that August heat well and that temperatures didn't dip much overnight in it. That meant the heat lingered.
The water was tempting.
It had baked under the sun's rays all summer. This is the warmest it would be all year – yet still the best way to cool down.
Richard kept walking, his feet carrying him to a destination he did not know.
And yet, it felt like coming home.
Above the symphony of summer was another sound - a radio playing in the distance.
Why was David Bowie playing?
It was probably coming from one of the houses around the lake, pouring from an open window that had been cracked in the hope of drawing in that hint of breeze. Or, it might have been a radio perched on the end of a dock while some young kids took an evening dip.
The trees started to thin, and Richard recognised the lake ahead. He'd grown up on it. His mother's home was on the far side. And he'd been the absolute worst left defenseman in the history of the White Pine Warriors under 10's hockey league on this very ice.
Richard was familiar with the property too. He knew the dock ahead and the large rock that sat on the north end.
And as for the cabin, he recognised that from his dreams.
Richard had always planned to one day build a cabin on this lot. It was one of the many dreams he had for a life he would never know.
Yet he knew the trim around these windows. And though he could not possibly have hung it, Richard had memories of carefully cutting that trim.
Of frustrated afternoons and mistakes, cool glasses of lemonade, and paint on his nose.
He knew these steps.
He had come in and out of them more than a thousand times. Richard could recall kicking the snow off his boots and a little set of wobbly legs slipping on the last step with a pickle in hand followed by thick tears after a bump on the chin.
Light streamed out from the kitchen window and Richard spied the radio in question.
His hand hesitated at the door, hovering just shy of the lock.
Richard Castillo wasn't sure he wanted to know what nightmare was waiting on the other side.
The screen whacked shut against the wooden frame.
This was the place from his dreams. He had been in this cabin many times.
But it felt different.
"I… I remember. I remember. Standing by the wall."
Richard turned and froze.
Tasha was in the kitchen. Her back was to the door. She was absentmindedly singing and dancing along with the radio in the window.
She closed the pantry door with her hip and returned to the counter where jars of sun tea sat.
"And the guns shot above our heads. And we kissed mmmm-"
She paused to lick homemade raspberry jam from her thumb before sealing the lid on the jar.
"And the shame was on the other side."
Indeed. Richard chuckled.
She was quite a sight in her bare feet and one of his oversized button-front plaid shirts.
Tasha was completely unaware of his presence as she washed her hands and dried them on a towel looped over the oven door.
"We can be heroes just for one day."
Tasha turned, showing no trace of surprise at Richard's sudden appearance.
She flashed him a grin.
Her hair was askew.
She was wearing nothing but his old plaid shirt. It looked ridiculously oversized on her frame.
She had taken a fair amount of sun across her nose and cheeks. And somehow Richard knew that if he were to pull back that faded shirt, he would find the top of her shoulders had been kissed by the sun too.
She looked both comical and heavenly.
"What's wrong?" Tasha asked, confused why he seemed to be lost in his own home.
Richard was at a loss for words. He tried to speak but couldn't formulate a sensical answer.
"I… you… um-"
His mouth went dry, and Tasha didn't follow his hand signals.
Richard released a long breath. He scratched the back of his neck and caught sight of himself in a mirror than hung on the wall. Richard turned his head side to side and ran a hand back through his greying curls.
Yep. Still old. He thought.
He jumped when he felt Tasha next to him.
"Mr Castillo," she said in a low, sultry tenor.
Richard's mouth went dry.
"What is wrong with you tonight? You're all flushed," Tasha said as she felt the back of his neck. "Let me get you a cool-"
Richard caught her wrist.
He looked Tasha up and down as if he were seeing her for the first time. Richard touched her face to check if she was really there.
She was as real as she had been in every one of his dreams for the last twenty years.
He was waiting for the bottom to drop out, for the dream to shift to something dark and terrible in the way they always ended.
"This isn't a dream, Richard," she said.
"Oh, how I want to believe you," he replied.
He yelped as Tasha pinched his backside.
"Real enough for you?" she teased.
"Ow," he said, rubbing the spot she'd made sore.
Tasha giggled as she shushed him.
"Quiet or you'll wake the boys," Tasha said, chastising him.
"The boys?" Richard asked in disbelief.
Tasha slipped away and resumed cleaning the counter. Someone had spilled homemade raspberry preserves.
"Yes. We were out on the lake all day. They're completely tuckered out," Tasha explained while she cleaned the counter.
"They went down easy enough. They'll probably sleep through the night," she continued.
Boys?
Richard scrambled out of the kitchen. He rushed down the corridor, tripping over an umbrella stand on his way to the bedroom door.
He cracked the door slowly and silently poked his head into a darkened room.
Once more, Tasha seemed to appear out of nowhere.
"Quiet," she repeated.
Richard gasped as he peeked in on the two sleeping boys – one in a tiny toddler bed and another in the baby cot along the wall.
A mobile circled above, tiny stars and ships rotating slowly overhead.
Richard watched in awe as his son slumbered. He wanted to kiss those eyelashes, to hold him close and savour the soft scent of soap and milk from his baby.
His sweet boy that would break hearts with all three of his teeth and that mop of unruly curls.
"He's so… he's so fat!"
"Don't call my baby fat, you big oaf," Tasha said.
She came up from behind and snaked her arms around his torso. Tasha rested her chin on Richard's shoulder.
"He's growing," she said with a sigh. "Too fast, I think."
Across the room a second slumbering boy was safe and content with his thumb hanging out of his mouth.
"He's beautiful," Richard said.
"Of course, he is. He's my son," Tasha said with mock indignation.
"Our son," Richard replied.
He squeezed Tasha's hand and sniffled.
Richard had loved that boy. He had never known him, but he had loved all the same.
"He looks so peaceful like this. You'd never know he got into raspberry jam," Tasha said with a chuckle. "Our little bear."
Richard took a step back into the corridor. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to swallow back a choked sob.
In the back of his mind, he couldn't ignore the voice that was screaming this was all a nightmare.
Any minute, the air would grow cold, the boys would be gone, and Richard would have to deal with another dead Tasha clawing at him, asking him why he couldn't protect her baby.
"Shhhh, you'll wake the boys," she said in a soft voice.
Tasha pulled him into a warm embrace, stroking his back until he came around.
"Tell me what's wrong?" she asked. "Are you not happy here?"
It was an odd question that only reinforced his belief this was a dream.
Though he had some level of cognitive awareness, things were still just beyond his control.
Richard surmised he was probably still lying in Sickbay and heavily sedated, drifting somewhere between consciousness and death.
But I died.
Richard could recall those final moments with perfect clarity.
Death and the afterlife (or lack thereof) had been a popular discussion topic during Richard's years of captivity.
This was no Sto-vo-kor or Betazoid Garden of Enlightenment.
Nor was it the celestial disembodiment that Richard had envisioned in accordance with Tasha's Turkanan faith.
Not that he was complaining.
"You always talked about this place," Tasha said.
Tasha seemed to know that he needed an explanation.
Richard kissed Tasha's forehead before pulling her into a tight embrace. She clutched the back of his shirt.
"I've been waiting so long for you to come home," Tasha confessed.
Tasha closed her eyes and nuzzled against his hand as Richard caressed her cheek.
"I can't help being afraid that you're going to change any minute. That I'll have to watch you, or our boys, or Sela go through some horrible-"
Richard stopped.
"Sela," Richard breathed.
He burst into the room on the left side of the corridor.
A hand carved sailboat sat atop a child's desk. Books and toys and a baseball glove littered the ground.
The bed was empty save for a doll with one button eye that had been laid there with care.
"And Sela?" he demanded.
"She's not here. She won't be for some time," Tasha said, closing the door to her child's bedroom. "She still has things to do."
He knew then.
He knew with absolute certainty that this wasn't a dream.
This was his 'what comes next.'
Richard didn't know nor particularly care how or why it was possible or what deity or power was responsible.
All that mattered was that he was here with the people loved.
And Sela wasn't.
Richard felt like a great weight had been lifted from his chest. That tenacious young woman that had survived assassination attempts, poisoning, and her father's cruelty had survived the attack on her shuttle too.
She couldn't be killed.
Just like her mother.
Sela may have claimed that little girl had died that day with her mother - but Richard knew better.
Sela was still alive. And the brilliant, sweet child he'd raised was still in her somewhere.
"We can change the window trim if you don't like it," Tasha offered in an attempt to make Richard laugh.
He took hold of her hands and pulled Tasha close.
This was his Tasha Yar.
The woman that had fallen through time and captured his heart.
And if she was here, then that meant the Tasha Yar he met in 2364 - the woman that had held his hand in the hour of his death - was still out there.
Richard didn't pretend he knew the first thing about temporal mechanics. But he had to believe that that Tasha Yar would get to do all the things this Tasha had never known.
She wasn't going to meet an Enterprise-C or crash on Narendra. She would never give birth to Sela.
And she would never have to know General Morak and his brutality.
Those events had already happened. The timeline had already been fixed.
His Tasha Yar had died for it.
And Sela was just a lingering consequence of that anomaly.
A ripple.
Castillo felt pretty proud of himself for working that out in his mind.
Tasha slipped her fingers under his chin and gave him a quick peck on the lips.
"We can change the trim," she repeated.
"It's perfect," Richard replied.
Tasha snuggled against his chest. Her hands roamed across his back while Richard held her close - like he never wanted to let go of her again.
"The boys had a big day. They're so tuckered out that they'll probably sleep right through 'til morning," Tasha said.
Tasha clutched his shirt.
"Richard," she said, imploring him.
Richard thought that was just fine. He was completely at ease.
"They're going to sleep through the night, Mr Castillo," she said slowly to indicate he should understand.
Richard didn't get the hint.
"You promised me an hour I would never forget and now we have seven… maybe eight of them before I'll have oatmeal in my hair again," Tasha explained.
"Oh," Richard replied softly.
His eyes went wide as Tasha guided his hands to her bare thighs.
Richard wanted to savour that feeling, but he had a hard time focusing as an endless stream of questions popped into his mind.
Much to Tasha's dismay, Richard couldn't shut it down.
"My mother?"
"She'll be along in a little while," Tasha answered.
"To… to take them for the night?" he asked, looking toward the boys' bedroom.
Tasha buried her head against his chest and laughed.
"No!" she said, amused. "She's not coming to watch them. She's not here yet. She'll be along when she's ready."
His mother was still alive.
That was a relief. They would have a lot of catching up to do at some point.
"How do you-"
"Shhh," Tasha said, putting a finger to his lips. "No questions."
Tasha pressed against him.
"Mr Castillo please do not make me beg you. Take your wife to bed. I've been waiting a long time for you to come home," Tasha said.
Richard gulped, suddenly feeling shy.
"I'm an old man," he said.
"I know," she replied, shaking her head playfully inches from his face.
Tasha smirked as Richard gasped when she cupped his trousers.
"Everything seems to be in working order," she said.
After all they'd been through together, she could still reduce him to a flustered puddle.
Tasha took a step back. Her fingers ghosted across the buttons of his faded shirt.
"It's a hot night, Mr Castillo."
A bead of sweat formed at his brow and ran down over the bridge of his nose.
"The moon is out," Tasha purred, popping open the first two buttons.
There was a wicked gleam in her eyes.
"Race you to the lake!"
She slipped past Richard before he could stop her.
"What? Wait!"
The screen door slapped against the wooden frame.
Richard tripped over the umbrella stand (again) on his way out the door after her.
"Come on, old man!" Tasha called out as she raced toward the water.
Richard's faded plaid shirt smacked him in the face as Tasha threw it off. He hopped along the grass while he fumbled to strip off his own clothes.
The fatigue and pain from years of hard labour seemed to slip away.
Richard's hands were still leathery. His hair remained grey.
None of that mattered.
There was something energising about the moonlight, something that made him feel alive.
Richard heard Tasha's feet on the dock followed by a splash as he pulled his shirt overhead.
Tasha emerged a moment later. She shook the water off her hair.
Richard was standing at the end of the dock.
"Well, get on with it," she said.
Richard just stood there - half undressed - as he watched Tasha treading water.
"It'll be frozen over before you know it. And you promised to teach me how to ice skate," Tasha said.
"Yeah," Richard breathed.
"Alright. I get the hint. I won't look," Tasha said.
Richard was strangely grateful for the façade of privacy as stripped off his shorts.
His cheeks flushed when Tasha whistled.
"You said you weren't going to look."
"I lied."
"Woman, your arse is going to be as red as your face," Richard warned.
Tasha rolled her eyes.
"You'll have to catch me first, old man," she threw back.
Unlike Tasha's running leap, Richard carefully slipped off the edge of the deck and into the water. He shivered at the difference in temperature.
Tasha wrapped her arms around his body.
"I missed you, Tuula," Richard whispered.
"I've waited so long for you to come home," she replied.
"Nastasiyla," he murmured while caressing her back.
Richard loved the way it rolled off his tongue. It had been far too long since he'd spoke her name, since he'd held her like this.
The sand and silt beneath his toes felt cool.
But she was warm. And her lips were softer than he remembered.
The icy touch that had permeated his nightmares was gone.
Tasha laid her head on his shoulder as they listened to the gentle sound of the waves rocking against the shoreline.
For years, Richard had clung to the notion of joining Tasha in the stars. As he looked out at the lake and saw the reflection of the sky above and all the fireflies, Richard realised this place was just like being in a sea of stars.
"Tuula?" he prompted.
"Hmm?" she replied in a hazy voice.
"I once told you that I would have taken that oath with you. The moon's out tonight," Richard said.
Tasha looked up to meet his eyes.
"I want to take that oath with you," he said. "I mean it."
He looped his fingers through her hand and pulled it to his lips.
"We already took that oath. A lifetime ago under a different moon," Tasha said.
"And a tree if I remember correctly," Richard added.
Tasha just laughed and shook her head.
"Well, is there anything in Turkana tradition about reaffirming that oath?"
"You can just say you want to-"
"I don't want to-"
Richard stopped himself as Tasha shot him a look.
"I do. I really, really do," he said quickly.
Her wet body was flush against his own. Richard would have thought his intentions were obvious.
"I just… you know that I love you, right? That this was never convenience or-"
Tasha softly shushed him.
"I know," she said. "I love you, too. And if you want to take that oath, I want you to know that I will take that oath with you time and again."
Richard relaxed.
"I'll spend the rest of my days taking that oath with you again. And again. And again, old man."
She was teasing him now.
"Alright, alright," Castillo replied.
Richard gripped her thighs.
"Come here, you," he growled.
He held her gaze as he slipped inside.
"Tuula."
His breath was warm against her skin. Richard cupped the back of Tasha's head, pulling her down onto his shoulder.
He closed his eyes and buried his face in her wet hair.
"The ahhh… toast," Tasha panted.
She keened as Richard's hand settled in the small of her back. They made love slowly. It was an easy pace, not unlike the waters that lapped against their bodies.
"You promised me toast," Tasha said suddenly.
Richard couldn't believe she had remembered that.
"There will be burned toast in the morning," Richard murmured. "And ice skating."
"Do you mean it?" Tasha asked.
Richard's fingers intertwined with her own. He squeezed her hand.
"Well, I am taking an oath under the moon, Tuula," Richard said.
Tasha captured his lips. She lingered there long after they broke apart, their foreheads pressed together.
For once, they could take their time.
"Do you see 'em?" Richard whispered fondly. "They're out tonight, Tuula. All around us."
Author's Note II: Time for a collective breath.
Richard's last words in this fic are the same ones spoken before his death. That was an intentional choice.
It is open to interpretation whether you believe this was all happening inside Richard's mind at the end of his life or that it was some sort of divine afterlife.
The full Enterprise-C events (including Richard & Tasha's relationship) is the focus of The Crease In the Fabric of Time. It's a separate fic I've been working on for ages. I'm also working on a Sela long fic set in The Complication universe called The Consequence.
So if you enjoyed this arc, be on the lookout for those stories.
One a lighter note - You though I forgot about Tomalak, didn't you?
*rubs hands furiously*
I have been WAITING to get to this moment!
When I first envisioned Morak, I knew that I wanted to write Tomalak as his primary rival. At first, I had considered making them brothers. But I scratched that in favour of this power grab duality because I wanted the conflict between them to be long and complicated... enjoy.