ON THE PULSE OF MORNING
(A DARK TERRITORY TALE)
2401
Sol Station
“Terrence, you’re sweating,” his wife chuckled.
“No, I’m not,” Glover rebuffed, doing his best to will the beads of sweat on his brow to recede back into his pores. He tugged on his tie, adjusting it for the umpteenth time. “I don’t think those fried oysters agreed with me. No one can make them like Pop Sisko used to.”
Kassidy had insisted that Glover make a video for the new museum dedicated to Ben. After delivering his recollections, Terrence was overcome with nostalgia. He had taken his wife to lunch at Sisko’s Creole Kitchen, a place he had spent countless hours in while at the Academy. But after Ben had joined the Prophets and his father had died, Terrence had avoided the establishment. Until today.
A decision he regretted by the nanosecond because it felt like his chest was filling with more gas than a nebula. Terrence’s wife was giving him the side eye in disbelief, and like she often did, she knew there was more to his discomfort than indigestion. Being on Sol Station, in the very heart of the Federation, and stuck in a sea of Starfleet officers, people driven by the same larger purpose that had once enthralled him, Terrence had never felt more unmoored.
“We still got time to grab your uniform,” she offered. For Frontier Day, veterans were encouraged to wear their old uniforms. It looked like a literal galaxy’s worth of different designs, and that was just from the last decade. Terrence smiled though every time he saw a grayhead in a mid-century or an even older style. While some of those wearers were respectfully honoring those who came before, there were some long-lived species in the Federation like Lanthanites and El Aurians who might have served alongside April or Archer even.
“No,” he rejected his wife’s gracious offer with unbidden chilliness. Glover had walked away from the service almost twenty years ago, after Romulus’s sun went supernova.
“Then why do you keep them?” She challenged. “All the while you’ve been together, you’ve never been the sentimental sort.” He wasn’t sure why he kept them. Perhaps he did it as a kind of penance. He had argued against saving the Romulans, what they had done to him had hurt him far more than he had realized at the time, but then in the face of such immense loss, his bitterness had burned away and all that remained was his guilt over how warped he had become.
In the intervening years, Terrence had tried to make amends in his own way, joining the Mariposas, and helping Romulan survivors whenever he could. The stain on his conscience was always there, but sometimes he could almost pretend not to see it, and mimic a somewhat normal existence.
“Hey,” Terrence replied, “Just keep digging in the d’k tahg deeper why don’t you?” Now, his spouse roared with laughter, throwing her head back, her thick brown braids swinging. She clapped his shoulder with such force that it made him stumble. He apologized to the young Bolian ensign he almost collided with before turning back to his now contrite mate. She apologized to the young man as well. The Bolian nodded nervously before proceeding along quickly, joining the throngs at the massive windows. Fireworks were bursting outside.
Terrence gave the young man a quizzical onceover, “Kid looks familiar for some reason,” he muttered.
“Not to me,” his wife shrugged.
Glover grinned, “Well, it’s still good to know that I can make ensigns quake in their boots,” he boasted.
“I think he was more intimidated by me love,” the woman’s smile showed off her sharpened teeth.
“All right, I’ll give you that one,” he conceded. His wife being petite was no impediment to her fighting skills. He had seen that first had in the many scrapes they had gotten into, and out of, often due to her.
“You’re learning,” she patted his back this time, thankfully much more gently. “Perhaps one day you will be as wise as Kang.”
“I met him once, you know,” Terrence said. His wife rolled her eyes, sighed heavily, and then snorted.
“Yes, I know, I know, it’s a story you never tire of retelling,” she shook her head. “If I closed my eyes when you spoke at times, I would think I was back home.” He sensed a tinge of envy within the levity. Kang was a revered Dahar Master, and it was the highest honor just to be in the presence of one.
“It never hurts to remind you of the kind of esteemed circles your mate has swam in,” he chuckled.
“You should remind yourself more,” she said, her tone now serious. “And put back on the uniform you were born into, to remind all of the great warrior you still are.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Glover said. “You hate war.”
The woman nodded, “That is true, I came to detest it and the madness that drives otherwise sensible beings towards it, like glob flies to flames.” She grabbed his forearms and pulled him close. “I hate war, but I love you.” He crushed her lips against his, and when she pulled away, she raked her teeth across his bottom lip, drawing blood. Glover wiped it away while she licked her lips and smiled again. “I love everything about you Terrence, even the life juice.”
“That’s both sweet and unsettling,” Glover replied. He lowered his voice, “But also oddly arousing. Let’s say we hop back into our ship and warp out of here?”
“You can’t think me so foolish,” she frowned, “And I would never think you so cowardly.”
The accusation stung, but Terrence couldn’t deny it. “Look, I’m thinking this was a mistake.”
“Are you saying that your son is a mistake?!”
“No, no, of course not.”
“Then how is seeing him one?”
“Listen, it’s not like that,” Glover shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“How could you say that? I was there too Terrence. Rieta was my friend too. And Tristan is still our charge.”
“He doesn’t see it that way. He wants nothing to do with me. I-I should’ve never let Juanita talk me into this.” The fact that he was speaking with Juanita again, after so much time, was a miracle in itself. Juanita had vehemently opposed his stance on the Romulans, creating a breach between them that he once thought was impossible to reseal.
“If Tristan didn’t want this to happen, it wouldn’t be. Captain Rojas is formidable, but even she can’t make two Glover men do something they are dead set against.”
Terrence nodded, “Yeah, you’re right about that.” He sighed and readjusted his tie. “How do I look?”
His wife gave him a lusty once over. “Like a succulent plate of fresh gagh.”
“You know, I’m just going to take that as a compliment,” he quipped.
“You better,” she said with such intensity Terrence couldn’t tell if the one was joking or not.
^^**********************************************************
(A DARK TERRITORY TALE)
2401
Sol Station
“Terrence, you’re sweating,” his wife chuckled.
“No, I’m not,” Glover rebuffed, doing his best to will the beads of sweat on his brow to recede back into his pores. He tugged on his tie, adjusting it for the umpteenth time. “I don’t think those fried oysters agreed with me. No one can make them like Pop Sisko used to.”
Kassidy had insisted that Glover make a video for the new museum dedicated to Ben. After delivering his recollections, Terrence was overcome with nostalgia. He had taken his wife to lunch at Sisko’s Creole Kitchen, a place he had spent countless hours in while at the Academy. But after Ben had joined the Prophets and his father had died, Terrence had avoided the establishment. Until today.
A decision he regretted by the nanosecond because it felt like his chest was filling with more gas than a nebula. Terrence’s wife was giving him the side eye in disbelief, and like she often did, she knew there was more to his discomfort than indigestion. Being on Sol Station, in the very heart of the Federation, and stuck in a sea of Starfleet officers, people driven by the same larger purpose that had once enthralled him, Terrence had never felt more unmoored.
“We still got time to grab your uniform,” she offered. For Frontier Day, veterans were encouraged to wear their old uniforms. It looked like a literal galaxy’s worth of different designs, and that was just from the last decade. Terrence smiled though every time he saw a grayhead in a mid-century or an even older style. While some of those wearers were respectfully honoring those who came before, there were some long-lived species in the Federation like Lanthanites and El Aurians who might have served alongside April or Archer even.
“No,” he rejected his wife’s gracious offer with unbidden chilliness. Glover had walked away from the service almost twenty years ago, after Romulus’s sun went supernova.
“Then why do you keep them?” She challenged. “All the while you’ve been together, you’ve never been the sentimental sort.” He wasn’t sure why he kept them. Perhaps he did it as a kind of penance. He had argued against saving the Romulans, what they had done to him had hurt him far more than he had realized at the time, but then in the face of such immense loss, his bitterness had burned away and all that remained was his guilt over how warped he had become.
In the intervening years, Terrence had tried to make amends in his own way, joining the Mariposas, and helping Romulan survivors whenever he could. The stain on his conscience was always there, but sometimes he could almost pretend not to see it, and mimic a somewhat normal existence.
“Hey,” Terrence replied, “Just keep digging in the d’k tahg deeper why don’t you?” Now, his spouse roared with laughter, throwing her head back, her thick brown braids swinging. She clapped his shoulder with such force that it made him stumble. He apologized to the young Bolian ensign he almost collided with before turning back to his now contrite mate. She apologized to the young man as well. The Bolian nodded nervously before proceeding along quickly, joining the throngs at the massive windows. Fireworks were bursting outside.
Terrence gave the young man a quizzical onceover, “Kid looks familiar for some reason,” he muttered.
“Not to me,” his wife shrugged.
Glover grinned, “Well, it’s still good to know that I can make ensigns quake in their boots,” he boasted.
“I think he was more intimidated by me love,” the woman’s smile showed off her sharpened teeth.
“All right, I’ll give you that one,” he conceded. His wife being petite was no impediment to her fighting skills. He had seen that first had in the many scrapes they had gotten into, and out of, often due to her.
“You’re learning,” she patted his back this time, thankfully much more gently. “Perhaps one day you will be as wise as Kang.”
“I met him once, you know,” Terrence said. His wife rolled her eyes, sighed heavily, and then snorted.
“Yes, I know, I know, it’s a story you never tire of retelling,” she shook her head. “If I closed my eyes when you spoke at times, I would think I was back home.” He sensed a tinge of envy within the levity. Kang was a revered Dahar Master, and it was the highest honor just to be in the presence of one.
“It never hurts to remind you of the kind of esteemed circles your mate has swam in,” he chuckled.
“You should remind yourself more,” she said, her tone now serious. “And put back on the uniform you were born into, to remind all of the great warrior you still are.”
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Glover said. “You hate war.”
The woman nodded, “That is true, I came to detest it and the madness that drives otherwise sensible beings towards it, like glob flies to flames.” She grabbed his forearms and pulled him close. “I hate war, but I love you.” He crushed her lips against his, and when she pulled away, she raked her teeth across his bottom lip, drawing blood. Glover wiped it away while she licked her lips and smiled again. “I love everything about you Terrence, even the life juice.”
“That’s both sweet and unsettling,” Glover replied. He lowered his voice, “But also oddly arousing. Let’s say we hop back into our ship and warp out of here?”
“You can’t think me so foolish,” she frowned, “And I would never think you so cowardly.”
The accusation stung, but Terrence couldn’t deny it. “Look, I’m thinking this was a mistake.”
“Are you saying that your son is a mistake?!”
“No, no, of course not.”
“Then how is seeing him one?”
“Listen, it’s not like that,” Glover shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“How could you say that? I was there too Terrence. Rieta was my friend too. And Tristan is still our charge.”
“He doesn’t see it that way. He wants nothing to do with me. I-I should’ve never let Juanita talk me into this.” The fact that he was speaking with Juanita again, after so much time, was a miracle in itself. Juanita had vehemently opposed his stance on the Romulans, creating a breach between them that he once thought was impossible to reseal.
“If Tristan didn’t want this to happen, it wouldn’t be. Captain Rojas is formidable, but even she can’t make two Glover men do something they are dead set against.”
Terrence nodded, “Yeah, you’re right about that.” He sighed and readjusted his tie. “How do I look?”
His wife gave him a lusty once over. “Like a succulent plate of fresh gagh.”
“You know, I’m just going to take that as a compliment,” he quipped.
“You better,” she said with such intensity Terrence couldn’t tell if the one was joking or not.
^^**********************************************************
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