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“He did—and does—have a choice about loving you, Thavanichent,” Charivretha said. “And about loving Vindizhei and Shathrissía. And he does love all of you.”
“I know he does,” Anichent said. “I know.”
“And with love comes certain obligations,” Charivretha told him. “And that’s true whether you’re an Andorian or a Klingon or a Tholian.”
“Obligations, yes,” Anichent said. “But I’m not sure love—real love—makes demands.An obligation is something Shar should want to fulfill, but our demands…the demands of our society…I think maybe we’ve been asking too much of Shar.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Charivretha said. She pushed her chair back and stood up, unable to remain still. “Nothing has been asked of Shar that hasn’t been asked of generations before him.”
“Then maybe we’ve been asking too much of all of us,” Anichent suggested.
“It doesn’t matter,” Thriss said suddenly. All eyes turned toward her. She still sat with her head down. “Nothing will matter if Shar doesn’t come back from his mission.”
“Thriss, don’t,” Dizhei said, obviously saddened by her bondmate’s despondency.
Anichent reached over and tenderly put his hand on Thriss’s forearm. “He willbe back,” he insisted.
Thriss slowly withdrew her arm from Anichent’s touch. She stood from her chair. “Excuse me,” she said, and Charivretha thought she saw tears in the young woman’s eyes. Thriss walked from the dining area and across the room, disappearing into the bedroom.
Dizhei looked over at Anichent. “I’m going to go to her,” she told him. He nodded, and she followed Thriss through the bedroom door.
Charivretha and Anichent regarded each other across the table. “I’m not sure what any of us are going to do if Shar doesn’t come back to Andor this time,” he said quietly.
“He’ll come back,” Charivretha said, as though stating a fact. “I’ve got to get to the reception. Thank you for the ale.” Anichent nodded, and Charivretha rose and headed for the door. She expected that he might say something more to her, but then she had entered the corridor and the door had closed behind her.
As she strode toward the turbolift, she realized that, if Thirishar did not come back to Andor this time, then she had no idea what she would do either.
51
Vaughn watched his daughter die, and in that terrible instant, he relived the moment of their separation, felt the weight of the years since, and regretted everything.
Pry
Vaughn felt the need to move away from his daughter, and to reach the console she had just been operating. He wanted to suppress his emotions and focus on keeping Defiantintact and headed away from its attackers. Pry
Except that there was no flight control console, no Defiant.There were no crew, and no attackers. And so Vaughn crouched down next to Pry
There’s no co
Vaughn reached down and dipped two fingers into the pooled fluid atop Pry
Why are you doing this?he asked himself. Why are you reliving this?He believed that this could not be real. He had not traveled back six weeks to this moment, nor had the moment traveled forward to him. But no matter the explanation, he had no time for this; he had a mission to accomplish.
Vaughn stood up and peered down at his daughter. Peered pasther. Beneath Pry
It’s not happening again,he forced himself to think. Pry
Vaughn pushed himself back into the moment, back onto the empty planet from which waves of destruction had been launched at the Vahni. He looked out at the vacant landscape, and with an effort, walked from the fragment of Defiant’s bridge and back onto the road. He examined his fingertips again, and saw them still wet and red with blood. He turned, expecting—not expecting; hoping—that the scene had vanished. But the incomplete center section of Defiant’s bridge sat incongruously in the middle of the road.
His mind reeled, vainly attempting to make sense of what he saw. Of what he knew. Of what he felt. For real or not, explicable or not, his emotions were genuine, more than mere echoes of what had come before. Profound sadness held him in its grip. Pry
Vaughn seemed trapped, encaged by his own sorrow. He had lost any sense of time, he realized, and conscious thoughts not born of his feelings had become difficult to manage. Everything had slowed down around him, as though this instant when he had thought Pry
Is that what this is?he forced himself to think. An effort to slow him down, to prevent him from reaching the pulse and trying to shut it down? And if so, would not a phaser blast, or even a well-thrown stone, have sufficed?
Vaughn wanted to turn from the scene of Pry
Vaughn turned, then opened his eyes. The empty road extended away from him, and he started walking again.
The sky reached down. Vaughn watched as, maybe two kilometers ahead, the clouds swirled above and fu