Reflections

[Wes Roberts 0]

Reflections

 

`Well, it no use your talking about waking him,' said Tweedledum, `when you're only one of the things in his dream. You know very well you're not real.'

`I am real!' said Alice and began to cry. Through the Looking Glass, Lewis Carroll

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Mai sat in the XO’s seat on the bridge of the Revenge, watching the initial communications with the crew of the Lost in Spacetime Comanche Creek with some interest. Especially noted was the Orion in command gold. Like a mirror, she thought to herself, it must be Audraya. With her husband and Chirakis moving into Wes’s office, the screen shifted back to the exterior view- Comanche Creek snugged up on the Revenge’s dorsal side, the tractor beam keeping her tight within the shield sphere. The antique heavy destroyer certainly looked out of place, contrasting the design philosophies of the 24th century.

 

Her musings were cut short by the office door opening, and Wes telling GW to send a security detail over with the Commodore aboard the Teach. Which was, of course, followed by a snorted grumble and the Tellarite getting on the comm to the ship’s security detachment. JoNs stayed put, as Chirakis entered the lift and headed for Shuttlebay 2. “Wes, the Creek’s XO would have been my great aunt. Branwen, my grandmother was her sister,” Mai said quietly. “Had she stayed in the clan, that is.”

 

“What happened to her?”

 

“Morohtar sold her to Robert Wesley, when he was a young Lieutenant Commander. The Clan kept tabs on her, apparently the Interstellar Red Cross manage to keep track of that information, especially those who’ve been freed. Once Commander Wesley got back to Earth, she was freed and adopted into his family. After that, she was stricken from the Clan rolls.

 

“Grandma Bran, though, continued to follow her through the web. Accepted into Starfleet Academy, fighter program, Sherman’s Planet, several starships, rising to second officer of the USS Entente. She was on the Epsilon 9 station, awaiting to relieve Commander Branch, when V’Ger crossed into Federation space in 2273.

 

“And to see her here, and now, I wish I could go warn her to not accept any assignments to any station.”

 

“I can’t allow that, Mai. Who knows what happens in their future,” Wes replied, pointing at the image of the Creek on the viewscreen. “And any information you impart to them, could have disastrous consequences for all of us. Or at least our alternate future selves...

 

Wes rubbed his head. “God, temporal mnemonics give me a headache. There are times I wish I could be more like my brother, not have much to worry about other than security on the Arcadia, and keeping his wives happy.” The last was said just loud enough for Mai to catch.

 

She laughed. “Now now, Wes. You have your own ship, your own handpicked crew, most of whom served with you before you were captured; your own planet, more wealth than the Grand Nagus, and a loving wife. And no, you’re not at all like your brother, because I won’t share you.”