Compromise

[Charlotte Matsumura 0]

Compromise

CDR Malcolm Alexander (NPC)

***

Malcolm Alexander stood at the operations lounge window watching the stars long after the USS Union disappeared beyond in a blinding flash of warp speed. Eighteen months of preparation – of selecting support personnel, reviewing previous intel reports, traveling long distances – had led to this: A few, scant hours with his newest operative before sending her out into the breech. It hardly seemed worth the effort.

 

There was so much to say, so much Charlotte had yet to learn. There was no substitute for experience, but he felt he could have conveyed at least some lessons, if only he'd had more time. Of course, the biggest lesson was one she already knew: Follow your instincts, but back it up with logic where possible. For many graduates of The Farm, it was one of the hardest lessons to learn. As the daughter of his former partner and Elisabeth Blair, he knew Charlotte was already smart and intuitive. Both traits would go a long way in their line of work.

 

But in the field, intuition and logic had to be backed up by action. Charlotte's dossier showed excellent marksmanship, and she was more than an accomplished martial artist. Following in her father's footsteps, she had recently earned her 2^nd dan, and planned to continue. To help her practice – and assure himself she was prepared – Mal made sure to take advantage of the deployment delay to work with Charlotte in the dojo. He furrowed his brow as he recalled their last moments in the holodeck-created studio.

 

Clad in their gis, the two circled and stared each other down like something out of a samurai-style spaghetti western. Her hands were slightly lower than guarding stance, eyes narrowed as she held his gaze steadily. Mal feinted twice, neither attempt causing her to flinch. It wasn't until he made his move – a front kick, followed by a quickly executed round kick – that she went into action. Springing to his left she merely got out of the way of the initial kick, then brought her forearms up to block the round kick. As his foot returned to the wooden floor, Mal reached out with his right fist, balacing his weight, and using his momentum to help power the attack. Pivoting, Charlotte deftly deflected the blow to her right, grabbing his wrist with her right hand, and striking his elbow with the blade of her left. She then swept his front leg easily. He flopped to the floor with a resounding smack, as she stepped to straddle him and followed through with a jab to his ribcage.

 

All of the above had taken place in less than the blink of an eye. It hadn't been a complicated attack, or even a difficult defense, but the difference a few months had made was staggering: Charlotte was faster, more fluid, and more deadly. It was an impressive, yet troubling, change.

 

Perhaps more troubling, however, was the realization that somewhere in the last few hours, his own awareness of her had…shifted. He'd known her practically from birth; she'd become important to him. Never his own daughter, but the daughter of a man he loved like a brother, a girl he watched grow in mental and physical prowess for over twenty years. He admired her – loved her, even.

 

But in those twenty years, Mal wasn't sure if he'd ever seen her so…alive. She was nervous about her first assignment, to be sure. But with her hair falling gracefully from its restraints, framing her features; her eyes narrowed as she stalked him; her skin aglow as she grinned down at him in victory – this was a very different Charlotte. And somewhere in the past few hours, he became very aware of that fact.

 

It was more than a mere physical or chemical reaction, he thought, though his body had certainly responded with her proximity. It was almost as though someone had drawn the curtains back, revealing a room he'd no idea was there. The times he sought her out in a crowd; the inexplicable jealousy toward the 2LT who had escorted her to the Marine Corps Ball last year; the effort he expended, tracking down antique naval insignia…all of it seemed to direct him toward an answer he wasn't yet prepared to admit.

 

Even as that answer crept up on him, he was struck with the impropriety of it all. First and foremost, she was the daughter of his best friend, twenty years his junior. He should view her as his own daughter, or even as a niece. That had never truly been the case, however; it was almost as though Fate were mocking him. From another perspective, it might have been amusing.

 

Second, he now served as her station chief. Relationships between Starfleet officers at the same duty station was not unheard of, but frowned upon within the chain of command. Within Fleet Intel, the rules were even more stringent: A relationship could mean retirement, reassignment, or even court martial if the proper charges could be supported. There was simply too much at stake to risk emotional compromise.

 

Still, Mal felt he could do his job effectively…for now, anyway. But hadn't he been drawn into this because of his emotional ties, his relationship with the Matsumuras? Idly, he wondered if Clark had seen this coming. He hoped not. The Deputy Director was just the type of person who would use that information for personal gain. As for himself, Mal hoped he could get a handle on this latest development before Charlotte's return. He also hoped the old saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder" was just an old wives' tale.

 

***