Ariannaa

            “Hi Papa,” Riaan said to him. Jonathan was still speechless, but now also confused. “This one is impatient, she is. A lot like you.” Riaan raised the little bundle and handed Jonathan their daughter. Wide eyed, he looked at Phlox.

            “I told her to wait for you, but she had other plans. She came just 15 minutes ago.” Jonathan  was so relieved he nearly collapsed, but instead he stared at the tiny cherub. A miniature white hat covered her head. She was perfect in every way, sleeping but still animated. Phlox came up behind his old captain and put a hand on the admiral’s shoulder. “Perfect, as I told you. Almost three kilos.” Phlox recognized the look of unconsciousness about to overtake the man and guided him into a chair. After a moment, he quietly slipped out of room. A nurse still puttered, but Phlox nudged her out as well.

            “Are you alright?” Riaan asked. Jon looked over at Riaan, and back at the new life in his arms. He touched the shallow ridges on her forehead. “Jon?”

            “She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he whispered to the bundle. He stood up and stepped close to Riaan. “Except for you.” He kissed the tiny forehead and held the baby tightly to his chest, then bent down and kissed Riaan's cheek. More incredible than any star, any nebula, any ship, even the image of Earth arriving home from a mission, he had never been so overwhelmed; Jonathan put his face to this creation of theirs, not wanting to give her back to Riaan.

            “Okay, you look a little shaky. I better take her back before you drop her,” Riaan kidded. He placed his daughter back in Riaan’s arms and kissed the woman squarely but gently. Her hand went to his face and touched the making of tear from the corner of his eye before it got away. “Not you, too. You ever see Phlox cry? It’s downright frightening.”

“She’s so precious. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you,” Jonathan managed to say finally. He took several deep breaths. “I left as soon as I heard. Are you alright?”

            “I’m alright, tired. Was easier than Brannigaan was. I’m a little worried about you, though.”

            “I’m fine.” He pulled the chair close to the bed and sat down again, picking up Riaan’s hand and holding it tightly in both of his.

            “Akal tradition is the father names the children. Did you finally decide?” Riaan asked. Jonathan closed his eyes but smiled at both of them. “They want a name before we leave. They actually want two names.” The closest thing Riaan had to a surname was ‘The Kellams’. Jonathan nodded, held her hand to his face.

            “I think we should go with Ariannaa. Ariannaa...Archer.” Riaan nodded, closed her eyes, and gently waved one hand at Jonathan to shoo him out so she could sleep. She tucked the bundle safely in her arm and did just that almost instantly.

The Imperial Guard

            “I didn’t know Ariannaa Archer was born on Zephram Cochran Day,” Bernard said. Valerie laughed.

            “Yes, poetic, isn’t it? One hundred one years to the day. I wished that was my birthday. I’d always get it off from school.”

            “You got it off anyway.”

            “But it would have been my birthday, too.”

            “Oh, well, any holiday works for that.” Bernard and Valerie sat at their favorite restaurant where they had begun their conversation a couple weeks earlier. “You still haven’t told me about your great grandpa. Or,” Bernard said slowly, “the old tradition of marriage.”

            “Don’t like my story?” She looked at Bernard of the top of her water glass.

            “I never expected Archer to have such a soft side. I always picture him tough as nails and then some.”

            “After the transporter thing he mellowed. He was still tough, just with the edges worn down some.”

            “So you have some Akalli in you.”

“What makes you say that? I told you Jonathan Archer was my great, great grandfather. I didn’t say who my great, great grandmother was.”