Minh-ee Me

"Pardon, I did not mean to drift off," he told the Ki'tiki.

The young captain of the Arcadia regarded him for a second, wondering what was on his mind.  Unlike some, she couldn't read others with just a look.  She was a bit envious of the ability... but only a bit.  Truth to tell, she felt rather blessed that she had not been born with such abilities.  She probably would not have liked what others were thinking.  Did this man have such an ability?  Or was he just curious about her?  She didn't know.  Her own curiosity getting the better of her, she opened her mouth to ask what was the matter, when new arrivals grabbed her attention.

The last person Neria expected to see walk through the door of the replimat... was Admiral Minh.

Zephyr Minh entered and looked around, accompanied by his dark-skinned aide, Lieutenant DeGrassi – apparently spared the fate of the admiral's shuttle, as well, in the No'Zal incident; he carried a padd, a mainstay of aides, Neria supposed.  They sported the gray & black uniforms that had been abandoned a couple years ago in favor of the blue-white design; their gold General Staff insignia stood out, glittering in replimat light.  Crew-members taking note of the admiral's presence straightened in their chairs.  Neria's first thought was, still the same Minh – short, thin, gray-haired, with a mustache that lent a rigid air, beneath dark eyes full of his particular warmth.  He stood, hands folded behind his back, surveying the gathering.  Neria's second thought was, why the old uniform design?  Had Starfleet gone backwards, in a sense?  They even boasted the arrowhead communicator pin.  Nevertheless, she liked it: Darker appealed to Neria, personally.  But of course, she came from a dark future.  Probably not everyone would welcome it... but then not everyone could be pleased all of the time.  And though Starfleet was not strict military at its core, it wore military trappings, including deciding its' officers apparel.

"Admiral..."  Neria rose from her chair to meet him.

Minh was nodding in approval, eyes trailing over the room.  "Very nice," he said.  "Your father must have liked this."

"What brings you?  I thought you'd still be..."  She paused, recalling the sensitive nature of the subject, and dropped her voice.  "...in the cluster."

"Hmm.  Well I was," Minh said, continuing to look about.  "However I have more pressing matters to attend.  My ship was en route to Earth; I stopped by to give you this..."  At a glance from Minh, DeGrassi stepped forward and handed her the padd.  "...and to give my regards to your father."  Minh set his gaze on the captain's table, now missing a couple people.  "Where is he?"

On Earth, Minh said.  Neria knew instantly what he meant.  It troubled her, that he – or Starfleet Command, for after all Minh had orders to follow, same as everyone – while it troubled her that he considered the Humanists more urgent than the Usurpers, it wasn't too surprising.  Earth's concern always seemed to be for itself, first.  Despite the varying constituency of the Federation – Earth was one world in hundreds, thousands – Neria felt that Chancellor Azetbur, the only woman to ever lead the Klingon Empire, had put it best, in an offhanded remark that ended up on the record: a homo sapiens-only club.  The Usurpers, if they continued to pose a threat, far outweighed anything the Humanists had to offer.  Unless they no longer were a threat.  Did Minh's presence imply that?  She wasn't sure what it implied.

"He... has personal business, before he leaves for Earth," she said, hoping she wasn't saying too much.  Minh could find out anything he wanted to know, certainly, but her father didn't need him barging in while attempting to tie up personal loose ends.  Did Minh know of her younger self's truancy?  If he said nothing, so would she.  Her life was really none of his business, plus she waited to see how that played out.  Minh opposed her father's retirement; he did everything short of blackmailing Stephen April to stay in the service.  For that, and other reasons, Neria never really cared for Minh as a flag officer.  Basically he was a soft, kind-hearted old man, an administrator more than a soldier – the antithesis of everything Neria strove to be, for fifteen years, which only now was she starting to realize she had to unlearn, if she was going to stay in this time.  Yet, she worried Minh might somehow convince her father to change his decision to retire, or at least try – and while Neria would have been first to welcome her father back as CO, she knew he had grown unhappy with command.  He needed the new path he had chosen – or that had been chosen for him, were she to believe in her father's god.  He didn't need Minh trying to upset that... so any time or excuse she could buy him, she would.

Perhaps as much for that reason as genuine interest, Neria lifted the padd and thumbed the display on, hoping to divert him by her distraction.  The text contents sprang into view.  It read for her eyes only – which meant it had been biocoded to activate at her thumb-press.  Minh came to deliver these orders in person.  And Neria suddenly saw why.

If her jaw had not been attached to her face, it would have hit the floor.  She stared at the display, reading it twice.  Slowly she lifted her head and stared at Minh.  It was not something to be discussed openly.  While she trusted the crew... her crew, she reminded herself... it was still an open replimat.  One could never be too sure.  All she could say was, "Why?"

Minh, all too aware of the many sets of eyes, ears, and other senses nearby, guided her to an empty corner of the room near the door.  DeGrassi stood in the doorway, looking back and forth, standing guard.  "We must be sure," Minh said.

Neria blinked and looked askance, mind buzzing with implications.  Was she up to this?  She truly did not know.  First, to be made captain... and now this.  It was a bit too much.  Almost.  Buck up, soldier, she told herself, as she often did.  You're tough.  You can handle it.  Lips pursed, she refocused on Minh.

"Admiral... about these orders..."  Neria purposefully kept her voice low, out of earshot.  In the back of her mind, though, she knew some members of this crew had senses that went beyond auditory.  Hopefully they had the good grace to refrain from using them to eavesdrop – to behave like Starfleet officers.  "You can't be serious."

He looked at her.  "Don't look so shocked, Captain.  You made it possible, after all.  We simply wish to know if we're doing the right thing."

"But—"

Minh inclined his head.  "Any protests you are about to make have been duly noted," he announced.  "I understand your trepidation, Miss April.  But you of all people know how important this is.  Shelve your personal doubts.  The orders stand."

The gentle reprimand steadied her.  Neria nodded.  He was right.

"You're free to discuss this with your people," Minh said – referring, she assumed, to the crew; the Khalindarians were the last people who should know about something like this.  "But I advise you to wait until you're underway.  Nor must you rush off at this moment – please, finish your outing.  Now, about your father..."

Neria took a breath.

"Since you say he's indisposed, I'll have to catch up with him on Earth," Minh continued.  "If you would be so kind as to pass along my regards?"

It truly was urgent.  So... Starfleet took these Humanists seriously.  "Won't you stay, sir?"  She couldn't quite believe she was saying it.  Despite her personal misgivings, she knew it was only right to offer an invitation.  She really had nothing personal against the man, though his kind-hearted nature often led her to question his decisions and tactics, as a result of that nature.  It grated on her fiercer side.  "You are welcome to join us..."

"Thank you, but we're short on time."  He and DeGrassi turned to go.  "Good luck on your mission, Captain."

Short on time.  Was he joking?  Neria suppressed an urge to laugh.

The men strode out and down the winding path of the promenade, out of sight.  Neria moved into the doorway, watched them go.  She looked at the padd in her hand again, blanked the screen, and slowly, thoughtfully, returned to her seat, sinking down.  Placing the padd atop the table, she stared at it... through it, into a place only her mind could see.  A place that filled her with not a small amount of fear.  A place she thought she had escaped.