Lieutenant JG Amelia Semara - My Daughter, Part I
Max
(( OOC: In order to help myself catch up, I’m going to fill a couple of Tori tags in this two-parter, but skip writing any sims for her narration for the remainder of the conference scene and pick back up with Tori ASAP. ))
(( Conference Room, Deck 1, USS Khitomer ))
A daughter. Amelia had a daughter. Will have - whatever. And Tori was there, in the flesh, sharing her mind the same way Amelia had always done with her own mother. Amelia knew she wasn’t this woman’s mother - not yet - but some version of her would be. It was almost impossible to not feel the connection that had been there before. There was too much there to ignore. She had practically run to Tori, in the telepathic sense, the moment she entered the room.
Ayemet: You expect us to help you? Why would we do that?
Something monstrous took over Tori at the question. An amalgamation of memory and emotion that wove a tapestry of trauma that went on and on, and of countless people who had become merely stories.
Tori: Because if you don’t, you die.
Amelia felt the way grief had rotted away a long time ago, and now it was a peat bog fermenting toxic, flammable gasses.
Had she failed as a mother? Was she going to?
Tori: Not all of you, not all at once, but most of you soon enough. :: Beat :: Mostly pointless deaths fighting pointless battles. If you don’t like the sound of that, then open your ears.
Then it hit her, the answer to it shining through a single gap in the thunderstorm of her daughter’s feelings.
Semara: ~ I died, didn’t I? Not too long ago? ~
Maybe a year or so. She could see it. Dying in one of Starfleet’s final battles in the Isles, leaving her daughter behind.
Tori: ~ Yes. ~
It wasn’t the affirmative that broke Amelia’s heart, it was the pit of despair washing along with it from her daughter. Whatever happened, Tori wasn’t prepared for Amelia’s death whenever it had happened.
Semara: ~ I’m so sorry. ~
Zerva: My hearing is just fine thank you. ::beat:: So we either help you or die? That’s not a lot of options. I have a job to do as we all do. oO It’s the safety and security of the Federation, right mom? Oo If I am meant to die then that is because I’ve done my duty as a Starfleet Officer. Do you realize how many temporal violations just sitting here having this conversation we are all breaking?
El’Heem: At the risk of sounding fanatical myself, we will die when we are supposed to die. No amount of time travel will change that. This isn’t faith or destiny, it’s paradox. And you threatening us with our futures is hardly a way to illicit the outcome you desire.
Amelia hadn’t heard a threat, but then the soft contact of Tori’s mind told her it was merely history to their guests. She considered interjecting, but Hobart cleared his throat. Perhaps better to keep quiet and continue the questions.
Semara: ~ What ‘bout your daddy? ~
Surely there was someone else in Tori’s life to care for and to stay for?
Tori: ~ You raised me by yourself. ~
Amelia always imagined she’d someday find love and get married. It wasn’t totally unknown to have a baby as a single parent, but it was commonly viewed as a desperate move for the Lady of any house to do so.
Semara: ~ I never married? ~
Tori: ~ No. I was a bank baby. ~
The words dripped significance that escaped Amelia.
Semara: ~ Bank baby? ~
Tori: ~ A Lattice terror attack on Betazed using Sencha bombs left most of the population who didn’t die infertile. ~
Goddesses. All those people… It boggled the mind and made the stomach turn.
Any: Response
Michaels: ::To Tori :: Miss, unless you desire to become a Cassandra... and if you do not know what that means, I am certain that Admiral Lacy can explain it... you may wish to consider the need for trust. Your male companion's... Kael is it not? I assume you were not named after Superman... Your companion's "answer" to my question has convinced me that there is a great deal you are not telling us. Whatever your reasons, it does give the impression that you do not trust us. That leaves us :: beat :: that leaves me little reason to trust you.
Just… why, Michaels? Amelia’s breath rushed out, flushing the feeling out. The three had clearly been through some of the worst the universe had to offer, could they not be spared some kindness and compassion?
Ohnari: ::stern:: Lieutenant Michaels that was entirely unnecessary. Do not insult them. While this is a lot to take into account..I am sure there is a sense of urgency on their part, considering what was the timeline Admiral? A week's time? A little desperation is understandable.
It took everything she had not to wince - clearly Talia felt almost the same way Amelia did, but without the telepathic outlet… Amelia’s eyes briefly caught on Hobart, clearly pained by this whole ordeal. What was the universe coming to if she found herself understanding him better than the others in this room?
Zerva: Insult them? ::beet:: We have shown them nothing but hospitality. They have been hostile since they arrived. Especially your s… ::bitting his tongue as hard as he could, causing it to it bleed::
If this was hospitality, then Amelia was a Ferengi. She hadn’t seen any hostility. Shortness and protectiveness, yes, but why couldn’t they empathize?
Charles: With respect, Lieutenant Zerva has a point. We’ve brought them on board, assigned them quarters and included them at this briefing instead of interrogating them in the Brig. We could all face consequences for breaking the Temporal Prime Directive, and they aren’t exactly being forthcoming.
Apparently the tactical Lieutenant took a very narrow view of the temporal prime directive. She wasn’t convinced, but there was no way to know what was being broken until they had facts. So far they had a story, albeit a heart-wrenching and convincing one. They hadn’t done anything yet. If they acted…
It struck her.
Semara: ~ What happens to you and Kael after this? ~
There was a long pause. No matter what happened, the two children were the most vulnerable to changes in the timeline, assuming they were possible. All Amelia had to do was vow to give birth to a boy, or even just name her daughter something slightly less ridiculous, and… poof! No more Tori.
Either that, or all their fates were sealed and none of this mattered.
Tori: ~ I don’t know. ~
The recklessness of it! Amelia’s polished tone laced her telepathy with distaste.
Semara: ~ So you’re riskin’ the love a’ your life for what…? Revenge? ~
Tori: ~ We’re stopping a genocide. ~
Semara: ~ With a side of revenge? ~
Tori’s inability to keep eye-contact told Amelia what she needed to know. They both knew it could be both things. Tori wasn’t proud of all her reasons, but that didn’t lessen her drive to do the deed. Amelia felt the raw, ragged hole blown through Tori’s heart still bleeding. The Alliance had taken a piece of her, and now she wanted a piece of them.
Tori: We’re not Starfleet, so we have no temporal prime directive to break, and we’re trying to answer your questions, but explaining time travel with Sencha and everything else you want to know takes more than five minutes. If you really want to know how it works, I can explain more later… Assuming that doesn’t violate your precious directive.
Amelia stayed silent. It was a true point, even if it could have been said with less venom. The crew couldn’t have it both ways. They couldn’t complain about both the directive and the lack of information. They needed to choose.
Shayne / Any: Response
Zerva: ::stumbling on his words:: Y-yes sir. Apolo- ::clearing his throat:: I’m sorry everyone for my outburst.
Admiral: Lera has a point. We haven't told you everything, because we—I didn't want it to cloud your judgment. Starfleet principles aren't worth much anymore, to us, any more than Napoleonic principles are worth to you. ::to Tori:: Another European conqueror, with a much better reputation.
The feeling in the room reminded her of the sensation of hanging from a sheer rock face and feeling her cramping, chaffing fingers start to give out. They were about to dive off a rock face.
Hobart: Might as well tell us.
Admiral: Might as well. After the raid, Khitomer and newly-promoted Commodore Shayne were tasked with organizing the search for the Alliance launching point. Khitomer, Ronin, Renown, Lowell, and Cadence were all deployed, but it was Khitomer that got lucky. Or unlucky, as it turned out.
Amelia was only passingly familiar with the engineering Ensign, but enough to see the younger woman’s face hiding under the lines and the greying hair pulled back into a tight bun. Enough to know the war-weariness that sloshed and splashed inside of her.
Commodore Shayne? Huh.
Korras: I assume you found what you were looking for?
Any: Response
Admiral: We followed a lead to an uncharted system, just a series of letters and numbers on a star chart. They saw us before we saw them. The battle was brief. We crashed onto an L-class planet. Survivable—for a while.
Richard: :: Taking notes again :: I kind of would like more info about that. Maybe we could focus on preventing loss with this foreknowledge of how things will go. Before we jump the gun and start assassinating innocent people. :: He looked up from what he was writing down :: Because, again, just to confirm with everyone. ‘The entire facility needs to go.’ sounds an awful lot like kill them all.
Harford: It is, Richard. That’s exactly what they are suggesting.
Banks: ::softly:: Which is a war crime.
El’Heem: And not something we should be willing to entertain.
Nobody said they were willing to entertain even one death for the sake of a future that was in doubt. The thing that hurt the most was her own daughter was the one asking for this. Even if it was the Admiral saying the words, Amelia could sense the fire in Tori.
Semara: ~ This is bad, Tori. Travellin’ through time - that’s murky enough - but murder? ~
Tori: ~ But you’ll help wage a war? ~
Could she really not see? Amelia had to wonder how she failed as a mother for it to come to this.
Semara: ~ There’s a difference. ~
Tori: ~ You really want me to go back and just watch the Alliance wipe planets from the map? ~
Goddesses! The set in her eyes matched the serrated steel in her intent.
Semara: ~ That’s not what I said. There’s gotta be another way. ~
Tori: ~ That’s what you always said. ~
All the while the exposition and the devolving discussion continued around them.
Korras: Indeed. Now we know where they are, and what they do, the outcome will be different. A trap is not a trap if the other party knows about it.
Hobart: Please continue, Admiral.
Admiral: Between the battle, the impact, and the nearly three weeks it took for Starfleet to find us, less than half the crew survived. Those that did were pulled off the line.
Clearly Amelia survived, or else there would be no Tori. It was hardly any consolation - how many friends would perish? Still, that was no reason for the request.
Something about Tori’s words clicked in her mind.
Semara: ~ We’ve had this conversation before, haven’t we? Not just you an’ me, but Connor and Talia, too, I bet. ~
Tori: ~ You and I figured out the potential of Sencha for time travel. The Admiral and I wanted you to develop it, but you said no. You died not long after, so I finished the work and made it real. ~
Bizarre to hear that she herself had made at least some of the discoveries that led them here. Amelia was no expert on temporal mechanics, so it must have been something to do with her newfound interest in Sencha… There was something comforting that even an older, presumably wiser version of herself said no to the entire scheme. There was something disturbing about the rough, emotional scabs encrusted on Tori’s empathic voice.
Semara: ~ Lemme guess - our last conversation was that fight? ~
Tori: ~ Cliché, no? ~
And yet no less bitterly astringent. The wound was puffy and infected and oozing with feeling and it smelled empathically. It ached to know she’d hurt her own daughter like that. Almost as much as Tori’s vehemence. What could she say?
Richard: :: Looking down again :: So let's avoid what we can. Who can go over the crash, the events leading up to and after. So we can work out contingency plans? I’d be happy to drop by your holding cells to talk later if that is easier. It sounds like we will be going to the place where we crash anyway, if it’s an Alliance strong hold.
Zerva: Good suggestion, Ensign. We should cover every possibility.
Korras: We might be able to turn their trap around on them. But.. I do not agree with wantonly killing everyone.
Amelia’s head was spinning. One officer said they were violating the temporal prime directive. Another said they should make small changes in their decisions. Someone said they shouldn’t be hearing this. The back-and-forth seemed to blur over in her head…
Hobart: Ears, officers. Not mouths.
She could sense Tori waiting for the Admiral to finish before saying her piece.
Any: Response
Admiral: That was the beginning of the end. They knew what they'd taken off the board, and hit DS33 hard and fast. Within a few months, the Federation gave up all claim to the Isles. But the Alliance was never going to stop there.
Tori: The problem is small disruptions tend to balance out in the math for Sencha time-travel. If you don’t die, the Ronin might suffer your fate, and then you still die trying to defend DS 33, and we wind up back here. We need to take dramatic action quickly enough to be sure the timeline will really change.
No matter what Tori said, Amelia couldn’t see her way to the answer being death for death.
Semara: ~ I ain’t gonna disagree with myself. This goes against everything I believe. ~
Tori: ~ You’re just like her. Stubborn and stuck in your sense of right and wrong. If we kill him, we'll save billions of Federation and Isles citizens. Or if your heart is still bleeding for the enemy, think of the Tholians and Sheliak who will never die in his war. ~
Amelia closed her eyes. She wanted so badly to love this woman who so clearly needed it. The desire to pull Tori into an embrace and tell her she was here now - she was at least some version of her mom - was powerful. It was impossible from across the table. She couldn’t reconcile what was in the woman’s mind and heart with the clear sense of family in her soul.
Semara: ~ Needs of the many? ~
Tori: ~ Lives of the many. ~
It seemed like a thin excuse for what she wanted. Betazoids didn’t live or reason the way Vulcans did.
Zerva: ::whispering:: Holy crap.
Yes, Ezra. This was a lot to take on all at once. More than the Lieutenant even knew.
She needed to go for a long run. Or climb a big rock wall. Something to clear all the whirling thoughts and feelings - her own and the clamoring, jostling emotions of the crew.
Korras: That much is clear. They never seemed content to just hold the isles. They see us, as we see bugs.
Banks: ::addressing Lacy:: Admiral, you’ve alluded several times to no longer being in touch with Starfleet or the Federation, and just now you disavowed Starfleet principles. Of which force, then, are you an Admiral?
Good question. Just who did they represent?
Admiral: We’re called the Free Isle Fleet. When Vulcan fell, I organized volunteers to slip behind enemy lines. Once Starfleet went quiet, we started recruiting whoever we could. Since then we’ve taken to hitting the Alliance wherever and in whatever way we could, without compromising our security. ::straightening her back:: Where Starfleet was a beacon of light in the galaxy, we’re… more of a refuge from the dark.