Sons and Divided Loyalties

[NDak 0]

Destorie finally rounded the corner and entered his quarters. It was surprisingly quiet – Issaha was likely in either sickbay or science cleaning up the mess after the science “drill” held by tr’Valdrin. A sigh escaped his lips and headed for the couch.

 

Taking off the outer tunic of his uniform, Destorie laid down on the leather upholstered chair. For several minutes he simply laid with his eyes closed, his thoughts racing from subject to subject, worry to worry. Morgana had hit closer to home than perhaps she realized. When he’d been in command of the Talon during the incident in the Gamma Quadrant, confidence had come easily to him because he had no choice but to succeed. Had he failed the crew then, they would either still be stuck in that elements forsaken quadrant or yy’a, but now he did have the option to fail, and if he had his best guess, it would not be by his own doing.

 

Sighing once more and opening his eyes, Destorie sat up. He didn’t have time to rest, or brood. Across the table from him sat a stack of ISD’s with reports for him to review, personnel issues to sign off on, and a dozen or so field reports from other vessels in the area that he needed to familiarize himself with before they arrived.

 

Then there was that other ISD. The one that Morgana had given him in medical. The one he’d yet to even take a glance at. Until now.

 

He’d half expected it to be a report on her erstwhile disheren who’d found himself in some mess with a highly addictive designer drug; he was rather surprised when he found it to contain data entered by t’Rexan.

 

His eyes flickered over the first component, a to-do list. Nothing particularly surprising about it. Notes to make sure certain awards were given out, including his own and those of the senior staff for their efforts in the Gamma Quadrant. There were also various notes about things she needed to take care of with the upcoming union of her house with Var’lon’s.

 

Rather mundane, he considered, curious why Morgana would give him this, given their conversation. He continued looking over the data until he found another set – this time a series of short audio recordings meant to be downloaded to her personal log file.

 

He hesitated for a moment, wondering to himself if he should listen to them or not. They were her personal logs, and had she meant for him to hear them she would have given them to her. On the other hand, Morgana had clearly felt he needed to listen to them. How had she gotten them anyway?

Placing the ISD on the table, he stood and made his way to the cabinet on the wall. Opening the door he removed a bottle of wine and poured himself a glass before returning to the couch. Taking a deep breath, and then a healthy sip, he activated the voice recording.

 

The first two recordings were relatively short, he thought, more of mental notes to herself than anything of interest. Then the third recording began.

He took another deep drink and listened as she talked about her relationship with tr’Vatrix. Part of Destorie did want to be happy for her, he really did. In the seven years he’d known the woman, he’d never really thought about her beyond their professional relationship, but he did know that she’d long mourned her husband and her child and he doubted she’d had any real opportunity to enjoy herself for many years.

 

As she discussed her own freedom from her past, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of his own bear down upon him. Were they really that different, he and her? Both had long since given up on ever finding jol again, having lost what they though was their only opportunity, both had dove deep into their careers to hide away their feelings, their emotions and passions. Their guilt.

 

Destorie paused the recording and headed to the cabinet, simply bringing the bottle back with him. As he thought about tr’Rexan and her new bondmate, he considered himself for a long moment. How long had it been since he could say he felt actual jol? Seven, eight years? He’d almost lost count. Sure there had been lovers along the way, the occasional tryst; he’d thought he’d almost felt something for Jaehon, but in the end he let his career fill that void instead – he didn’t even bother to contact Jaehon when they were at ch’Rihan.

 

Pouring his glass full, he resumed the playback.

 

Family? Destorie thought to himself. Though in fairness, he had less of a chance of being double-crossed on the ship than he did with his actual family. He sighed. She really had felt something for the crew.

 

Taking another drink of wine, he considered what he’d berated Sar’vek about, about showing respect and honoring t’Rexan’s wish to include them as part of her so’droz. Perhaps he was overly sour when she’d told them, and he doubted she would understand how he felt – not that she could be blamed. Still, he had offered to host the reception aboard the Talon and had even extended to them a gift of a case of his family’s finest ales.

 

Filling the glass a third time, he listened more intently as her thoughts strayed from the then impending so’droz to a more personal subject. A slight smile crossed his face. Brash, egotistical, swaggering.

 

He thought back to conversations with Morgana about how he’d tried so hard to prove himself, to escape the weight of expectations that he felt often buried beneath. They were expectations he would not wish on anyone, but yet without them he would not be the man he now found himself to be, the man t’Rexan apparently now found him to be.

 

Seven long years he’d spent earning back her trust, proving himself to not only her but to the crew, his family and himself. He paused in his revelry, though, as a familiar subject came up in the recording.

Frowning he paused the recording and sat his glass of wine down on the table. She still had not forgiven him for his inactions, he thought. On some level, he considered, it was understandable, but on the other, he felt she misunderstood how he felt. It wasn’t that he was disloyal to her position, and while he certainly respected that, he’d had trouble finding personal loyalty to her.

 

Taking another long drink of wine, he wondered perhaps if that was why Morgana continued to browbeat him. He sighed and set the glass down again. It was more difficult for him than either of them could imagine. t’Rexan had spared his life, that much was true, and she’d given him an opportunity to redeem himself; but he could never completely shake the feeling that she was setting him up.

 

He sighed again, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. Perhaps his biggest difficulty with developing personal loyalty towards her was that he didn’t really know the woman beyond their professional interactions. It wasn’t as if she took him into her confidence about personal issues, instead she preferred to confide in t’Ksa her feelings, not just about her own troubles but about those of the crew. Beyond that, he could not recall a single conversation either of them had ever had that wasn’t about duty.

 

Resuming the replay, he let those thoughts ruminate when something t’Rexan said caught him off guard.

 

The son she never had?

 

He stopped the recording again.

 

“The son she never had?” he repeated.

 

The thought lingered in his head, and for the first time Destorie found himself unsure of his place, and even more unsure of his thoughts.