PNPC LT Melvin Martinson and LT Aine Sherlock - Doubt

[Aine Sherlock]

((Apartment 302, Kowloon Block Apartments, Hong Kong Subdistrict, StarBase 118))

After the Glenn had returned to 118, Aine helped with getting the crew of the Delight setup with temporary quarters. She didn't know what was going to happen to them. For now, they were jobless, shipless, and homeless. But she also had other business she'd attended to. None of which was pleasant.

She invited Mel over to her still spartan apartment to talk...she was mad at him again. But only a little mad. Once he arrived, she led them into her kitchen and used the replicator to fetch them coffee for him and tea for herself. They both stood there, sipping, leaned against the counter.

Martinson: So, did you talk to your dad?

Sherlock: Yes.

Martinson: And?

Sherlock: I didn't ease into it. After he said hello, I asked him about the Delight. The look on his face told me everything I needed to know. They've been lying to me pretty much my whole life.

Martinson: He didn't lie, he just never told you.

She couldn't believe Mel was defending him! First the call out on the Glenn, now this!

Sherlock: ::sternly:: An omission of truth is the same as a lie.

Martinson: Okay, okay. What happened after you mentioned it?

Sherlock: ::taking a long sip of tea:: A lot of yelling. I just lost it.

She could feel him staring at her as she looked across the room to the nearby wall as if it had answers. It wasn't a stare of judgement though. It was as though she could sense his concern for her.

Martinson: So ::beat:: she is your sister?

Sherlock: Half-sister. He did have a relationship with an Orion woman on the crew. But he decided to leave the Merchant Marines and return home and he didn't know she was pregnant.

The theme was all too familiar with Aine. She slowly turned to look at Mel, her stare was one of judgement. Though they thought they'd moved on from "the incident," clearly it was still on her mind. She just chalked it up to recent events.

Martinson: What are you going to do?

The look in her eyes changed from judgement to one needing confirmation. She had an idea, but was it the right idea? She could easily let Shevon go on with her life, leave 118, never see her again. Or...

Sherlock: I'm going to ask Commodore Taybrim if she can become a provisional officer here on one-eighteen.

She watched as his head nodded side-to-side as he considered the proposal as if he was mentally making a pro's and con's list. It felt like she was waiting...and waiting...and waiting.

Martinson: Do you think that's what she would want?

Sherlock: I don't know. But I don't think she's ever known a home other than the Delight, which means she doesn't have anywhere else to go.

Martinson: Is this some weird way of you trying to make up for the Resolution?

Sherlock: No. ::long pause:: Maybe. I don't know. I just...I feel like I owe her something. Answers. Time. I don't know. Just something.

Mel turned and set the mug of coffee down on the countertop. He moved closer to her. Standing at her side, he wrapped his arms low around her and rested his chin on the side of her head. It was a small gesture of comfort, one she didn't realize she needed. She could suddenly feel tears welling up in her eyes. A single sob came out as she spoke.

Sherlock: I feel like I've lost so much. You, the Resolution, friends. Parts of myself even. Now, suddenly, there's a part of me I never knew existed before today.

His arms moved up to her shoulders and he pulled her in closer, tightly. She could feel a couple tears roll down the front of her cheeks.

Martinson: You've accomplished a lot more though. It's just that the losses always stick with us. Come on, let's go.

She knew he was right. She'd become an officer in Starfleet. She'd risked life and limb multiple times, and had been decorated and recognized for it, for saving the lives of her crew members. She'd led an entire department who's sole task was to protect the crew and families of their ship, successfully. But still, the losses weighed heavily on her. Those losses and learning of the existence of a half-sister filled her with doubts. Doubt, the word she'd written on the Renewal Scroll on Bajor during the Gratitude Festival. The word she was always trying to let go of.

Sherlock: Go where?

Martinson: You're going to bed. You're tired. I know tired Aine when I see her.

He took the cup of tea from her hands and set it down and she replied reluctantly.

Sherlock: Ok.

He led her by the hand out of the kitchen and down the hall.

Martinson: Why'd you get such a big apartment?

Sherlock: I don't know. Impulsivity.

He let out a gentle laugh.

End Scene

Lieutenant Aine Sherlock and Lieutenant Melvin Martinson

Tactical Officer

StarBase 118 Ops

R239712AS0