“Admiral,
please report to sick bay,” Phlox said over the private cabin intercom. Archer finished dressing in clean, dry civilian clothes. In the adjoining room Brannigaan and
Ariannaa had bathed, put on their pajamas and gone to bed. Both of
them heavy sleepers, Jonathan didn’t think twice about leaving them alone; he was in sick bay within five minutes.
“Is she
okay?” he asked before anything else was said.
“I gave her
a sedative, but I wanted you to come up here. The
tocolytic I sent down with the other supplies will have been metabolized soon and she’s
going to go back into labor.”
“Back into
labor…you mean—“
“Yes,
Admiral, the accident on the planet brought it on. It’s a little ahead of schedule but not dangerous; I thought you might want to stick around overnight.”
Jonathan moved past Phlox without another word and went immediately to Riaan’s
bed. She lay on her side, asleep, oblivious to all the sounds from the
monitors and curious creatures Phlox had brought with him when he came on board. He
grabbed a chair and sat down next to her, holding her hand as she had done for
him day after day, week after week, until he woke up.
It was one
of the few times in his life he’d felt helpless. Jonathan hated the feeling of
having his hands tied. He was too tired to sleep, but when he closed his eyes,
he was back at the hospice with his father. He stood beside Henry Archer’s bed,
holding his hand, his mother standing behind him. It was the last time he saw
his father before the drug stopped his heart and the pain finally ended, at least for
Henry. For Jonathan and his mother, it endured.
“I’m so tired,”
Riaan mumbled as she opened her eyes. “Oh, no, not sick bay. I want a real bed.”
“Baby, it’s
okay. You're okay, you're safe.”
“Oh...hi, Jon." Riaan blinked slowly a few times. "What are you doing here?”
“I’m not
leaving your side.” He yawned and leaned back, but didn’t let go of her hand.
“It might
be a while,” she told him, then looked at the monitors above her head. “Or
maybe not, I sort of don’t feel anything right now so I don't know--"
“Why is it
that I can face a thousand alien enemies and certain death, but the thought of
losing you terrifies me to the core?” And then, at that exact moment, Jonathan
knew without a doubt, in no uncertain terms, deep where he may have never
searched before that he didn’t want to live one day into the future without
her. And he wanted the rest of the world to know it.
“We’ll be
back to Earth in a few days, Jon. Everything is fine.” He held her hand tightly, afraid to let go.
“Ten
billion people on Earth and I had to go 100 light years to find the one woman
in the galaxy that I can’t live without. Riaan, I think it’s time you make an honest
man out of me.” He loosened his grip on her just a little, and looked in
her dramatic eyes. “Marry me?”
At Last
“Wait. I thought
you said Riaan wasn’t your great,
great grandmother?” Bernard asked Valerie. He picked up a sofa pillow and
gently threw it at her.
“I never
said she wasn’t. But yeah, I only ever told you I was related to Jonathan. All
three of their children were full siblings. You couldn’t pry those two apart
with a left handed spanner.”
“Three?”
“Brannigaan
was their half-brother. Ariannaa, Charles Christiaan, and Abigaail were all
Archers; Abby was born on Andoria, at the embassy, so she had Earth
citizenship.”
“You don’t
have any temple ridges. I thought the women had them?”
“I’m too
far down the line. But if I married an Akalli they’d probably be back for my
kids.”
“Have you
ever been to Akal?”
“Yes, I
like it. They’ve done away with nuclear, of course, and are using hydroelectric
power. They’ve modernized and have come into an industrial age, but without so
many of the problems of pollution most cultures endure before solving those
kinds of problems. They had the Federation to guide them. And there’s lots of fresh water on the planet, it’s green, not overpopulated. Not space age yet,
but they don’t care that much about it.”
“Don’t get
any ideas,” Bernard kidded her.
“So here,”
Valerie called. She stood in a large closet knee deep in assorted artifacts,
books, antiquities, and furniture. “I found it.” Backing out of the
closet she had a large, heavy box in her arms.
Bernard took it from her so she could escape without injury, and they
settled down at the dining table to examine the contents.
Valerie
pulled out several preservative sleeves each filled with one or more
photos. She sorted them as she took each
one from the box carefully, laying out quite a collage on their dining table.
Each was labeled, thankfully, for she wasn’t sure if she would know all the
people or not. Most of the pictures showed people wearing formal dress uniforms
and long ball gowns.
“I haven’t
looked at these in 20 years. Here: Dr
Phlox, and two of his wives; I know that’s him, but I can’t remember his wives’
names. Captain Mitchell, Commander Sato…This is T’Pol and Charles Tucker.
Here’s Captain Mayweather, Ensign French, Captain Ramirez, everyone who was
anyone was there.”
“This is
Commander Tucker?” Valerie smiled and nodded. “Charles, not Trip?”
“My great
grandfather’s name, yes, after him,” she confirmed. “He and Jonathan knew each
other a long time, probably the closest two friends could be. But you know
about the Romulan War and him being undercover and that from history class.”
She pulled out a few more and laid them near the others. “This is Mia,
and here’s…” She looked at the back. “Yes, I thought so, Brannigaan. Oh, here
it is, Jonathan and Riaan, also known as Admiral and Doctor Archer to everybody
else.”
It was a
captivating wedding photo, with San Francisco’s red Golden Gate Bridge behind
them. It had been an unusually clear day and the bridge, usually fogged in, was
bright and bold. The admiral wore a black formal dress uniform with gold
buttons and more commendation medals than any other man in Starfleet. The doctor’s dress
reached almost to the ground and was made from a deep scarlet satin silk
adorned with gold trim. Riaan held a bouquet not of flowers, but of a dozen or
so long white peacock tail feathers tied with a golden ribbon. They stood
together on a green knoll with red-roofed white buildings scattered in the background.
“They were
married at the Presidio?”
“What about
Abigaail?”
“She wasn’t
born yet, not until 2172.”
“Okay,
you’ve finally convinced me,” Bernard said smiling. “But I’ve never seen any of
this before; it’s never talked about at Starfleet, or in the museums.”
“Can you
pick out Great Grandpa Charles?” Valerie rose from the table and wandered back
into the closet to bring forth another smaller, lighter box.
“Must be this
one.” He held up a picture of a small baby boy, dark haired and dark eyed with
pale skin but no cranial ridges like his sister or Brannigaan. An elder, smiling human woman held him
securely for the photographer. “Who is that holding him?”
“Ms.
Archer, Jonathan’s mother.”
“Wow, look
at the clothes; very 2100s!” Bernard turned it over, reading the hand written
note:
Charles Christiaan
Archer, 2168
“Why ‘c h r
i s t i a a n’ with two As? I know why the girls have the extra
As.”
“Christiaan
Huygens. You know, discovered Saturn’s rings, Wave Theory of Light, physics. The shuttle was the Huygens, Eta Carinae, it's a nod to him, and that's really how his name was spelled.”
“I guess I was
asleep during that lecture.” Valerie shot him a glance. “So why is Riaan
wearing red?”
“Red is
Akalli tradition. Red and gold symbolize love and fortune. Here’s another one of
Ariannaa, she has the white dress, and look at her eyes; she had the most beautiful eyes.” She opened
the second box, and pulled out another box, wooden, but padded and covered in
scarlet silk. “This is the material from her dress,” Valerie told her fiancé
with a soft look. “These were given down the line to me, from great grandpa to
grandpa to father, and now to me. If I had a brother he would have gotten it. I'm the last Archer.
“What’s in
it?”
“I’m going
to show you.”
Valerie
slid the photo of her great, great grandparents away from the edge of the
table. Atop it she placed a number of silver and gold rank insignias worn by
both the admiral and the commander. She also placed two polished platinum
rings, a larger one and a smaller one, near the pips. She pulled out an
elaborate hair piece made of hammered bronze but studded with verdanas and
zircons from Akal; it resembled the tail of a peacock, and Riaan wore it in her
raven hair on their wedding day. There was also Riaan’s gold caduceus pin, the
Starfleet insignia pin from the admiral’s hat and two gold buttons from his
jacket. Then she pulled out a clear box with some stationery sealed inside – a
copy of the formal paper wedding invitation Riaan had insisted on using. Paper
wasn’t a thing of the past on Akal as it had nearly become on Earth.
“This looks
like it ought to be in a museum,” Bernard commented, picking up the insignia.
“Most of the stuff is there, all the commendations and
uniforms. There’s two fake buttons on this dress uniform on display there.” She
tapped the photo. “Now you know something no one else knows but the curator.
So, you see, there are traditions
that Archers follow. I wear the hairpiece. You can wear the insignia if you
want to. It was special made out of bronze.”
“Admiral
Archer’s Starfleet insignia?” Bernard’s eyes widened in veneration. Valerie
nodded. He picked up the pin, carefully, and barely dared to set it down again.
“But you aren’t going to be an Archer much longer.”
“Why do I
have to become Valerie Scott? You could become Bernard Archer. It works either
way. Or we can just be Valerie Archer and Bernard Scott.”
“That’s not
very traditional for a girl as traditional as you.” Valerie smiled.
"A rose by any other name."
"A rose by any other name."
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