JP- Samantha Richards and Talos Dakora - There Goes My Hero: Part 1
Samantha Richards
((XO & Sam’s quarters, deck 2, USS Artemis))
((OOC: This was done in collaboration with Talos’ writer(Travis) and permission was given by him and Matt for me to post.))
With a PADD in hand, Sam lowered herself onto the couch. Just as she had gotten comfortable, both babies began to move.
Richards: Ow! ::Pushing on her belly:: You two always wait until I’m relaxed before you start your acrobatics.
A sharp kick came from the left side, where her hand had gently come to rest.
Richards: Tiny girl, you have some attitude already.
She let out a small sigh as the kicks continued. She focused on the PADD and hoped Talos was finally able to talk for more than just a few fleeting moments.
It was early during the last mission when Talos had received word that one of his family members was ill and requested him on Betazed as soon as possible. Without a second thought—and great worry for his grandmother— he went, only leaving a short message for Sam in their quarters.
Quickly enough, the face of a tired Talos appeared on the screen.
Richards: Hey there baby daddy. ::frowning a bit:: You look… exhausted. ::beat:: But still incredibly handsome!
She gave him a reassuring smile. His grandmother meant a lot to him and while Sam wasn’t sure of the details, she wasn’t about to pry.
Talos would be lying if he said he wasn’t grateful for Samantha’s call. It had been a particularly difficult day and hearing her voice had brought some level of emotional relief. A feeling that was still fairly new to him, but not an unwelcome one.
Dakora: Hey Sammy. How are things there?
Richards: Same as usual. Babies are ridiculously active right now.
He let out a breathy laugh, but it was tinged with sadness.
Dakora: I wish I was there.
Richards: Me too. ::Chewing at her bottom lip:: How is everything going there?
He fell silent for a moment while rubbing the back of his neck.
Dakora: Uh, well… My Govanna is fine.
It was great news, but also confusing. Especially considering his tone.
Richards: I don’t understand. I thought it was pretty serious?
Dakora: It wasn’t her.
Sam scrunched up her face in confusion as she stared into his dark eyes.
Talos wasn’t even sure where to begin, or how to begin. Thankfully the words started to sort of fall out without much thought.
Dakora: It wasn’t her. It was my- ::catching himself:: It was Vostro.
Sam’s jaw dropped. A name she had only ever heard once before. Once was enough for Sam to know Talos despised the man, and followed that sentiment with a promise to never be like his father.
Richards: ::Quietly:: Are you okay?
He simply shook his head and shrugged.
Dakora: Honestly? I don’t know Sammy.
Emotions had never been something Talos particularly ever talked about, especially with his tendency to keep things so close to the vest.
When it came to his relationship with Vostro, it was complicated and those feelings only amplified the closer he got to his own children being born.
For a fleeting moment, Talos felt a pang of frustration deep in his chest. He had tried so hard to stay out of these types of situations, because he was terrified of doing to someone else what Vostro did to his family.
The sound of Sam’s voice brought him out of his internal turmoil.
Richards: Does that mean you’ll be coming home soon? I’m going to need you here when these babies eventually kick their way out.
Sam gave him a playful smile, she knew talking about their kids would almost always turn the big strong Officer into a pile of mush, this time was no different.
Dakora: Soon, yeah. I’ll be home soon, I promise. ::Chuckling:: Those two better stay put until I get back.
Richards: You got it Mr. Dakora. I will pass the message along to your spawn.
She made an attempt to salute as she laughed at her own quip. For as horrible of a salute it was, Talos still thought it was kind of cute.
Dakora: I need to get going, we will talk more tomorrow yeah?
She yawned and nodded simultaneously.
Richards: Of course, I will await your call. ::Smirking:: I’m going to eat something and call it a night.
Dakora: Please make sure you eat something other than those damn Cheezy poofs.
He grinned wryly, knowing full well that Sam had already eaten enough of the little snacks to possibly turn their children that radioactive orange color.
Richards: Don’t worry about my Cheezy poof intake ::Waving her hand dismissively:: Goodnight Talos.
Dakora: Goodnight Samantha, I love you despite your addiction to the poofs.
Richards: I love you too.
She blew him a kiss and the transmission ended.
((A week later…))
The door opened with a woosh and Sam waddled her way to Talos. It was fairly evident that in the short time he was away, her belly had grown even more. The clock was ticking and before they knew it— They’d be parents.
Richards: I’m so glad you’re back!
He almost commented on the way she walked, but ultimately decided that wasn’t a good idea.
Dakora: It’s good to be back.
He pulled her in, placing a gentle kiss on top of her head before stepping back and placing his hands on her belly. After a couple of fierce kicks and jabs, he blinked away the moisture threatening to fall from his eyes.
Richards: Hey… ::Laying her hands on top of his.:: What’s wrong?
Dakora: Oh, Uh, no. Nothing is wrong. Come on, let’s go relax. We have a lot to talk about.
She narrowed her eyes, not fully believing nothing was wrong, but followed him to their room regardless.
After Talos dropped his bag on the floor and they had entangled themselves together on the bed, Sam rested her head on his chest.
Richards: Alright, tell me everything.
He wrapped his arms around her and started with the moment he arrived on Betazed.
((Flashback))
((Madara Hospital- Betazed, Medara))
His feet felt like they couldn’t move any faster as he made his way through the Medara Hospital. The thought of being too late to tell his Govanna he was finally giving her great grand babies made him feel sick. Why hadn’t he just told her sooner?
The door to the room opened, and his expectation of seeing his grandmother lying there, was all but gone as his eyes settled on the person in the bed.
He halted in place. A roller coaster of emotions hit him like he’d been punched in the chest. His mouth opened, struggling to get a word out.
Dakora: Vostro?
The name cracked through the air like glass dropped on the sterile floor.
The man in the bed – once towering, once cruel – turned his head. His hair, the color of smoke, and the years had whittled him down to skin, bone, and regret. A slow smile – too slow to be anything but deliberate – curled across his withered lips.
Vostro: My son… thank you for coming. I feared… ::a practiced, trembling sigh:: I feared you might not come. Not if you knew who it was asking.
The man’s confession tore into him like a fish being gutted.
Dakora: Why did you ask for me? ::Gesturing wildly with his hands.:: To tell me you are— what? Dying?
It had been years. Time and silence had built a seawall around his heart. But still, the sight of his father – fragile, draped in hospital linens like a penitent in sackcloth – tugged at old places. Worse still, the man’s voice hadn’t changed. The same silken smugness. Like poison honey.
Vostro raised a hand, slow and deliberate, gnarled fingers reaching for his son. A faint shimmer of tears clung to his eyes – not wept, only displayed.
Vostro: Please, my boy… my dear boy. Sit with me. How I have missed you.
Dakora: No thanks. ::Crossing his arms:: I’ll stand.
Vostro: Talos… I—::another sigh, theatrically weak:: I understand.
Dakora: What do you want?
Vostro: ::Eyes tilting toward the ceiling, as if inspiration – or applause – might descend from above:: I’m dying, my son. There’s no cure. And… ::his voice cracked, just enough:: I needed to see you. Just once more. My pride. My joy. My greatest accomplishment.
Every time Vostro called him “son” he felt pieces of himself break. Pieces he had long ago tucked into a dark corner of his soul to hopefully one day just forget about.
Seeing his father again put a spotlight in that corner, bringing every bit of vulnerability to the forefront.
Dakora: You’re telling me, you brought me all the way here to see me? I hope whatever is wrong with you affects your brain, because this is really rich— even for you.
Being away from Samantha so quickly after her arrival to the Artemis left him with a hefty dose of guilt, now only amplified by finding out it was a giant waste of time.
Vostro: ::wincing:: I know you’re angry. You and your siblings – so angry. And rightly so. But if I– ::a cough, suspiciously dry:: if I survive this… Talos, I want to rebuild. To be the father I never was.
Dakora: I don’t need a father. Not anymore. ::shaking his head and taking a step towards the door:: I haven’t for a long time.
The mood shifted, sudden and sharp, like a storm breaking over still waters. Gone was the quavering timbre, the trembling hand, the sheen of performative tears. The mask slipped – not fell, but was peeled back with slow, surgical precision.
Underneath, the true face of Vostro emerged – the one Talos remembered all too well.The manipulator.
The man who measured love in obedience and affection in usefulness.
His eyes, once dim with feigned fragility, sharpened to pinpricks of dark resolve. No longer glassy – flint. The glint that lived there was old – wrought in the crucible of control and pride. Of knowing that every word from his lips could bend a household like wind through a wheat field.
Now, that power lay in ruins. Yet the ruins smoldered.
Vostro didn’t cry. Vostro didn’t beg. Those had been tools. Implements in the toolbox of a man who knew how to stage-manage pity into whatever he damn well chose. But with Talos turning away – physically, emotionally, irrevocably – the tools clattered uselessly to the floor.
All that remained was contempt: raw, undiluted, and fossilized by decades of supremacy gone to seed.
His lip curled ever so slightly, the way a lion might when fatally wounded. But the teeth beneath were still there. Still sharp.
Vostro: ::sharply:: You don’t walk away from me. I am your fath–
Talos turned on his heel and held up his hand, stopping him from continuing.
Dakora: Maybe it’s time you know what it feels like to have someone who is supposed to love you walk away.
Vostro: ::ice in his voice:: I thought you were more of a man than that.
The words stung surprisingly hard for someone who should have been around to show him what it meant to be a man.
Dakora: I’m ten times the man you’ve ever been or ever will be. Now if you don’t mind. I have a family to go home to.
Vostro: Family? ::Scoffing:: Is that what you’re calling Starfleet these days?
Dakora: No. I am going home to an amazing girlfriend, who is only weeks away from giving birth to our twins. ::Patting his chest:: My son and daughter. Who will never know what it feels like to navigate through life without me. Their mother, who will never look at me the way my mom looked at you when you left. ::Letting out a quick breath from his nose:: I guess I can say thank you to you. For showing me what not to do.
Before any other words could be uttered, Talos left. Just like Vostro had done to him when he was a child. For the most part he felt some sort of healing in walking away. What he didn’t expect is how much it still hurt.
Caring about someone shouldn’t hurt. Not like this.
((End flashback))
TBC in part 2
Samantha Richards