#and yes I know the rock guest starred in voyager too

[celtic-romulan]

Maje Culluh every time Janeway opens her mouth:

Rude.

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 6

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Summary: Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

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Rating: M

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Prologue; Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5

AO3

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A/N: Sorry for the waiting, but real life came along and I had to stop writing for a couple of weeks. Thank you @thisonesatellite for being the best beta reader I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. Happy Labour Day!

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Chapter 6 . .

Be not inhospitable to strangers,

lest they be angels in disguise.

(W. B. Yeats)

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When Killian regained consciousness he found himself in what reminded him of a military hospital. There were thin white curtains around his bed, but through them he could spot other beds like his, most of them empty. The room seemed large and dimly lit.

He closed his eyes and remembered the crash landing, the unknown desert planet, the great rock that was about to crush Henry, and that feeling of unease and imminent danger he had felt just before the impact. Where was he? And above all what kind of situation was he in, a good or a bad one? He opened his eyes again, and noticed he wasn’t alone. A woman was checking his IV, and a nearby monitor was beeping intermittently.

Killian tried to sit up, but a stabbing pain in his lungs made him desist immediately. He groaned loudly.

“Look who’s awake.” Said the woman, who was now staring at him. “Hello, handsome.” She added cheerfully.

Killian had found himself dealing with uncharted waters several times in his life. He decided to play the waiting game. “This is usually my line, well, more or less.”

“Really? In this case, I'll warn my husband not to approach you.”

“Don’t worry I'm not into men, not recently at least.” He smirked.

“Oh, but my husband is quite the charming one.”

“I still prefer the company of a fair lady, if I could choose.” He winked and chuckled, and a dull pain made him gasp.

“Take it easy.” She immediately shifted her attitude from playful to worried. “How do you feel?”

“As if I've been hit by a rocket.”

“Not a rocket, but yes, you’ve been hit hard. You’ve suffered two broken ribs. And believe me, you were lucky, it could have been worse. Do you mind if I run some tests and see how you react?”

“No problem.”

While the woman was busy measuring his temperature, making him follow a small blue LED light with his gaze, and extracting some blood to examine later, he took advantage of the opportunity to observe her more closely. She had short black hair and green eyes, bright and lively in contrast to her very delicate skin. Killian found himself thinking of another pair of green eyes, which had been filling his thoughts frequently lately. The memory brought him back to reality quickly.

“What is this place?” He inquired, eager to know what had happened while he was unconscious.

“Welcome to Vernal-Den.” She answered smiling.

Killian tried to remember if he had ever read about this planet. “Never heard of it.”

“Yeah, we’re not very popular.”

Was she too concentrated on checking-in his vitals, or was she being too concise on purpose? He didn’t know, but he intended to keep an eye on her. “How long was I out?”

“A while.” Another elusive answer.

He decided to test the waters. “Were there ….other injured people with me?”

“If you’re referring to Henry and Emma, they are perfectly fine.” She seemed sincere. “They are staying at our place. Henry has visited you every day since you came in.”

“And Emma?”

“Well, she can’t come in. She’s not a relative of yours. But she has spent long hours sitting just outside that door.” She said pointing towards the exit. “I had to order her to go home and get some rest.”

After that she excused herself, saying that she had to attend to other patients.

He realized she hadn’t even told him her name. He didn’t know if he could trust her or not. The fact that she had avoided some of his questions sent chills down his spine. And most of all there was the Emma problem.

Why couldn’t she visit him? Was it true that it was only a matter of rules? Or was she in some kind of peril? He needed to know what was happening behind those doors that separated him from the woman that had been pestering his dreams in the last ten years of his life. He had to know that she was alright. To hell with rules! He thought. And by the way, when was the last time he followed one. He had to get out of this place. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his lungs was so strong that his vision started to blur and cold sweat formed on his temples. He lay back down on the bed, aware that in his conditions he couldn’t have gone far before collapsing unconscious on the floor. He promised himself to solve the problem as soon as he had enough strengths, but he couldn't dwell too much on that thought, because sleep was reclaiming his mind again.

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~·~·~·~

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Time passed very slowly, or so it seemed, but maybe it was simply the fact that every day looked the same. Killian was mostly asleep, probably due to the painkillers introduced through the IV, and when he woke up he couldn't tell how long he had been out, he couldn't even tell if it was day or night. There were no windows in that room.

During one of the moments when his mind regained consciousness, he felt the mattress drop slightly to one side and he slowly opened his eyes.

“You are awake! How do you feel? Can you breathe? Of course you can, you would be dead otherwise! Does it hurt?” Henry was sitting at the end of the bed, and he was asking a lot of questions, as usual. “Sorry.” He suddenly looked contrite. “I should let you rest, but…”

“It’s ok, lad.” Killian cut him off. “I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece.”

The boy greeted him with a wide grin.

Killian remembered the last moments before getting injured, and he was relieved to know that he had been able to prevent that rock from hitting Henry. But other worries crowded his mind. “How about your mom?”

“She’s fine. She’s outside. They won’t let her in. You know, only relatives and all that stuff.” He explained.

“I see. And why are you…?”

Henry didn’t let him finish the question. “I told them I’m your son.” He whispered with a conspiratory smile.

“Clever boy.” Killian’s chuckle turned soon into a cough due to the pain.

“Does it hurt?” The boy asked, frowning.

The man dismissed the question with a wave of his hand. “It’s not a big deal.” He didn’t want the lad to feel responsible for his well-being. “How many days have passed since we landed here?” He asked, changing the subject.

“I don't know exactly.” And at Killian’s questioning look, he added, “It’s complicated.”

“How so?”

“People live underground here,” The boy started to explain, “With no opportunity to look outside. And there are no clocks. My watch had probably broken when we arrived, it doesn’t work anymore.”

The man hummed, he was starting to understand. The lack of windows, the elusive answer he had received from the dark-haired nurse… everything was beginning to tally in Killian’s head. “I want you to think carefully about everything you saw outside this room. Did you feel something was wrong?”

The boy shrugged. “I don't know.” He seemed to ponder. “This place is strange. Lots of corridors and passages underground. We are not allowed to go out into the open. They say it’s dangerous. But I never felt a threat or something. I would rather say it’s boring.”

“Why boring?”

Henry was trying to find the right words to explain it. “All the days are the same, people repeat the same actions every day. They say it’s useful to maintain a routine. But I don’t think Mary Margaret and David are bad people.”

“I’m sorry, who?” Killian asked.

“Oh, yeah, Mary Margaret, she is your nurse. We’re staying at her home. She is very nice. And David is her husband. He showed me the greenhouse. It’s awesome and huge, you should see it! But I don’t think he works there. I don’t know what his job is.”

Routine? New people? A greenhouse? Well, that was a lot of information to process. But Killian felt sleep calling him back. Next time I see that lady Margaret, I’m going to ask her not to put more painkillers in my IV. He thought. “Thank you, Henry, for everything. But I may need to rest for a while now.” He managed to say before falling asleep again.

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~·~·~·~

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Emma knew Killian was feeling better, Henry had told her about their short chat, and some of her child's enthusiasm had even infected her positively, but she continued to feel restless, she wanted to make herself useful. Most of all, she wanted to see Killian again.

All this absurd situation was her fault. And no, she was not thinking about the fact that Killian was lying on a hospital bed because of some bad decisions she had made lately. No. She was not going down that path again. She had already spent a lot of hours regretting many choices done in the last month.

But this was nonsensical, why couldn’t she visit a friend that was hurt and maybe in need of some company? She had actually had a chance to say that she was his wife; after all in the eyes of her guests, she and Killian had a son together, so why not lie a bit more and make Mary Margaret believe that she and Killian were married. But the thought of a possible long time spent together on this planet feigning to be a happily married couple scared her, and she couldn’t go on with the lie.

So there she was, sitting on a very uncomfortable metal chair in the waiting room. She had spent more hours there than she could count.

David had passed by to greet his wife, and he had offered to take Henry with him, on the way back home. So she was left alone with her thoughts.

Mary Margaret peeked out the door with a steaming mug in her hand. “Take this. It will help.”

She agreed with a nod. “Thank you.” She sipped some of the hot liquid and it felt like her nerves were starting to relax a little.

“You should go home and rest. It's late.” The woman said.

“Mary Margaret let me enter.” Emma pleaded for the umpteenth time.

“We have already talked about it. You know I can’t do that. There are strict rules down here, and the best way for us to survive is to follow them.”

“This is insane. I’m not a dangerous criminal or someone who is plotting to destroy this planet. I just want to see him. Please.” She begged.

The dark-haired woman seemed to be pondering all the possible consequences. “All right.” She sighed. “Let’s just say that I’m going inside and leave the door ajar, by mistake, of course. I have to check some very important documents, so I’ll be busy and concentrated. I’m not going to ask you what you’re going to do in the next... fifteen minutes or so. Okay?”

“Thank you.” Emma handed her the cup back, rising from her chair. “You won’t regret it.”

After Mary Margaret disappeared behind the door, Emma waited some minutes before going after her. The room was large and there were many beds, she had no idea where Killian was, but after a quick look at the surroundings, she discovered that only a couple of all the beds were occupied.

She approached one of those and gently opened the curtain trying not to disturb the patient lying inside.

Killian seemed asleep. He was pale, with dark circles under his eyes. She could only imagine the pain he was going through. She had her heart in her throat because she felt responsible for the situation. If they hadn't taken a detour because she had requested it, they'd probably all be home safe and sound by now.

“Hey, beautiful.” He greeted her with a painful grin.

Immersed as she was in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed that he had woken up. She smiled, trying to be strong and not show her inner turmoil. “Do they treat you well here?”

“I'm not complaining. The nurse is kind and the food is edible.” He tried to downplay the situation. “Although I would prefer the care and attention of a certain blonde.” He winked.

Emma chuckled. Then she went closer to him and sat down on the side of his bed, trying not to cause him any more pain. She looked him straight in the eye, and then, gently, she took his hand in hers, intertwining her fingers with his. She saw him swallow hard, and the beeping of his heartbeat accelerated on the monitor. She smiled softly again. “Thank you for saving my son’s life.”

She saw how he wet his lips before answering as if his mouth had been suddenly dry. “It was the right thing to do.” Was his answer, but his voice came out slightly choked.

Emma looked back, checking if any hospital employee was nearby, “I shouldn’t be here, and unfortunately my time is running out. But I wanted to see you... needed to see with my own eyes that you are ok... well, more or less.” She whispered, with her gaze lowered, avoiding eye contact. The physical connection of their joined hands was already arousing too many contradictory emotions inside her.

“Aye. I know the feeling.” He replied, letting her know that he had been eager to establish contact with her throughout his stay in the hospital.

At those words, she stared at him again. “Get well soon.” She bent down and dropped a mild kiss at the corner of his lips. “We need you.”

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~·~·~·~

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Killian was lying on his back staring at the ceiling. This time there was no way he would fall asleep again. Every time he thought about what had just happened his beeping monitor sped up. He blushed. It had been just a chaste kiss, nothing compared to the hot and breathtaking one they had shared a few days before. But she had said it had been a one-time thing and he had promised himself not to indulge in those lustful thoughts anymore. Yet, this last kiss had seemed much more real, and meaningful... it had left him with a feeling of hope.

Hope and distress. Emma was such a strong and beautiful woman, a marvelous creature, as he liked to describe her in his mind, and a princess even. And what was he? A rebel, and a scoundrel. Or a rapscallion... whatever. Okay, maybe not anymore, but he had been in the past, for many years. He had been trying to redeem himself lately. But was he worth enough of her? That was the million dollar question.

He was still ruminating on it when the known brunette peeked out the curtains. “Hello. How are you today?” She greeted him with a bright smile, as usual.

“Better.” He hoped the monitor on his right wasn’t showing his state of mind.

She came closer. “Do you mind if I check your ribs? It's time to change the dressing.” After a short pause, she added, “I'm sorry, but we don't have the best equipment to assist our patients. We have to work with what we have available on this planet.” She said pointing to the bands that covered his chest.

Killian nodded, and Mary Margaret started to untie the bandages. She seemed concentrated on her task, probably she was trying to avoid causing him any pain. It was only when she started to apply an ointment on the bruises, that she spoke again. “You love her.” It was just a whisper, and Killian doubted if he had heard correctly. But then she added “Emma.”

It wasn’t a question, and he pondered what was the correct answer, or if she was expecting one. “I'd go to the end of the world for her… Or the multiverse.” He said eventually.

“And she for you, I take it?”

Killian chuckled and shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“What’s the problem?” She looked at him surprised. Then took some clean gauzes and started to wrap them on him.

“She's bloody brilliant, an amazing woman. She fights for her son and always does what’s right.” Killian’s voice was so full of admiration.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Mary Margaret inquired.

Killian shook his head again. “She raised the bar very high. The fact is, I don't think I measure up.”

The woman folded the old bandages and took the ointment bottle, then she stood up, she was making an exit when she stopped short. “Since you came here I've been watching you.”

“I don't know if I should be flattered or scared.” The man tried to ease the tension of the moment.

“We don’t have many foreigners on this planet, but believe me, you're not one of the bad guys. You sacrificed yourself for the sake of a young boy. There's good in your heart.” She smiled at him softly. “I’m going to look for the doctor; I bet you’ll be leaving this room soon.”

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~·~·~·~

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The following day started the same as the previous ones. But during the first hours of the evening a man in a white coat came to visit Killian. He explained the medications and precautions to be taken to him, some movements that he should avoid for a while, and other tips for a speedy recovery. Then he handed over some papers for the patient to sign to be discharged. Finally some good news.

After a while redressing and packing up his few belongings in his satchel Killian went to the door. Walking hurt a bit but nothing he couldn’t bear.

Mary Margaret was already waiting for him, and a tall blonde guy was with her. “You must be Jones.” He said. When they shook hands, Killian learned his name was David Nolan, and he remembered Henry had mentioned him in his conversations. “I’m going to take you to our humble abode.”

Nolan's house was in fact modest. A loft with a large dining room, a kitchenette, a bedroom, and a small bathroom on one corner, all open, without doors, except for the bathroom. There was a raised bedroom opposite it, whose access was a metal stair.

Dinner was good, if a little awkward. Emma didn't interact much, and Killian wanted to ask if something was troubling her, but he preferred to wait for a better time, perhaps a less crowded one. Henry entertained them with what he had done throughout the day and kept repeating how glad he was that Killian was back with them.

But the man was still a bit cautious with those new people around him. He didn’t know them, especially the Nolan guy, who had been silent for most of the dinner, glancing sidelong at him as if he wanted to study him thoroughly before making a personal judgment. The feeling was mutual, Killian thought.

Just after dessert, David started to speak. “What will you need to restore your ship?” He asked.

“Uh… a new stabilizer, I think, and some parts of the propulsion engine for sure. But I’ll have to look closely at the damages to be sure there’s nothing else broken.”

The blond man nodded. “Not many ships come and go from here. But I hope we can find all the pieces you need.”

“Thank you, mate.”

“Tomorrow I’ll take you to the hangar where your ship is. We’ll have a look at it.” He seemed sincere in his generosity.

“May I help?” Henry barged in.

A chorus of “No!” echoed the room.

“I appreciate the support, but it could be dangerous.” Killian explained.

“I hate being here. I feel trapped.” The boy complained.

Mary Margaret sighed. “This is a feeling that will vanish with time.”

The woman was no doubt trying to instill some optimism, but Killian didn't like the idea of staying in that place longer than necessary. “Well, then, let’s hope we could leave this planet before the feeling has entirely vanished.” He made a grin and passed his hand on his side.

“Time for resting.” The brunette stated although it sounded more like an order. “But before that, we should change those bandages. Emma, would you like to help me?”

“Me?” Emma, who had been silent and a bit on the sidelines all evening, seemed to re-emerge from wherever she’d gone.

“He won’t be able to do it by himself when you won’t live here anymore. It’s better if you learn how to help him.” Mary Margaret clarified.

Emma looked like she was going to object, but in the end, she asserted. “Sure.”

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~·~·~·~

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If a certain nervousness had taken hold of Emma as she climbed to the upstairs room, it disappeared the instant Mary Margaret helped Killian get rid of his shirt. That wasn’t a thorax, it was a nautical chart. Most of it was covered by gauze, but she could still spot many marks and scars.

There was a tattoo, two of them to be exact, but Emma saw just one at first. It was on his right forearm; it was a big red heart with a dagger running through and the name “Milah” across it. Emma made a mental note to ask him later who she was.

Mary Margaret showed her how to unfasten the bandages, and then she ordered her to stand behind him, to help better in removing them all.

On his back, Emma saw the second tattoo, on his right shoulder. It was an old nautical instrument she had read about in a book when she was younger, but she couldn’t remember the exact name. The drawing was beautifully detailed, even if it had faded, it was probably older than the other one, she thought.

And when all the gauze was out of the way, she saw them: tiny, blurred, old scars that studded most of his back. Emma wondered what kind of life he had to endure when he was very young.

Mary Margaret asked her to help with the ointment. She had already opened the bottle and was showing the blonde woman how much cream to use. But Emma wasn't listening, standing now in front of the man, her attention was caught by the glorious chest hair that was covering most of his torso.

Okay, there was also a big, horrible bruise on his right ribs, but Mary Margaret was saying that it seemed on the way to a fast recovery, if the yellow and purple veining was some indication.

Emma was ogling and she wasn’t ashamed of it either. The amount of hair decreased in the lower part of his chest, leaving a black trail that disappeared under the hem of his pants.

"See something you like?" Emma was abruptly taken back to reality by a smug Killian that was smirking at her while arching an eyebrow. She blushed. She was caught red-handed, but she couldn’t let him win. She took advantage of the fact that Mary Margaret was looking for something in a nearby drawer, to get closer to him. She looked at him lasciviously from under her lashes. “Maybe?” She purred.

Now it was his time to blush, he looked intently at his feet, but she found the bright red that appeared on his ears extremely endearing. Point for Emma.

Mary Margaret taught the other woman how to fix the bandages, and Emma had to use some tiny hooks to hold them together. She did not miss the opportunity to casually slide her fingers over a part of his chest hair that came out of the bandages.

“Bloody Hell!” Killian muttered.

Emma retreated her hand immediately. “Sorry. Did I hurt you?” Worries that she had done something wrong clouded her gaze.

“Apologies.” Killian was scratching behind his ear, in evident embarrassment. “While I do enjoy two lovely ladies attending to my needs, I'm not used to someone taking care of me…” He smiled and brought his mouth close to Emma’s ear: “I’m usually the one who devotes full attention to a woman’s needs.” He whispered, but clearly not as quietly as he would have liked, because Mary Margaret's answer - “Well, you will have to put that off for a while” - made him blush again like a schoolboy scolded by his teacher.

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~·~·~·~

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Suddenly it was bedtime. Everyone was busy making preparations and taking shifts for the bathroom to change for the night. Killian was upstairs, staring at the bed he knew he had to share with Emma, who was arranging a pillow on the nearby sofa. He passed a hand through his hair and then scratched a spot behind his right ear. “I'll crash on that couch.” He stated as if it was the most logical conclusion to a battle he was fighting inside.

“Don't be ridiculous,” she scoffed. “It's barely long enough for Henry. Plus, you’re still recovering, you absolutely need to rest.”

He didn't seem very convinced. “Emma, I'm not sure this is a good idea.”

“And why is that?” Was her exasperated reply, turning towards him with her hands on her hips. “What are you going to do? Seduce me with a couple of broken ribs and a ten-year-old boy sleeping next to us?”

He lifted his arms and surrendered. “Fair point.” He conceded.

In no time they were all ready for the night and Henry was snoring softly on the sofa. Killian was supine, staring at the ceiling and thinking about the events of the day. In any case, sleep had no intention of coming, but he tried not to move. He didn’t want to wake up his roommates. Emma was lying close with her back to him and he didn’t know if she was already in the arms of Morpheus.

He turned his head to observe how her upper body moved with the rhythm of her breathing, blond curls covering her shoulders. Killian had to repress the urge to touch them. And as if responding to his call, she stirred and turned to face him.

Her eyes opened lazily. “Still awake?” She murmured.

“I have the feeling that I’ve slept enough for the rest of my life.” He whispered. “But you can’t rest either, I see.”

She didn’t answer.

Perhaps it was the closeness, perhaps it was the fact that they had spent the last few days apart. Killian didn't know how he found the courage, but he lifted his left arm as an invitation. “Come here,” he said.

She seemed to ponder the situation, chewing her bottom lip. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

He decided not to think about all the possible implications of that sentence. He was falling in love with her, he was aware of it. Probably the simple doubt that she might not reciprocate was already hurting him, but he knew that at that moment she was referring only to his physical bruises. “You won’t.”

She slipped under the sheets towards him, resting her head gently on his left shoulder and placing a hand on his chest, avoiding the bruised part. Not many minutes passed before her lids grew heavy and she dozed off to the rhythm of his heartbeats. Killian placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

[falkenscreen]

Star Trek: Voyager

Yes this show ended some time ago; that doesn’t mean that it’s not still underrated.

A relative late convert to Star Trek, this author committed to traversing the Delta Quadrant having finished The Original Series, The Next Generation, Discovery & Picard to date. Deep Space Nine is next; like the Doctor I don’t know anything about this ‘Dominion’ but they seem important and we’ll get there.

Having now finished Voyager, here’s the (spoiler-filled) thoughts of someone who came to the bridge afresh and savoured the light-hearted nature of the show. Yes TNG demanded more attention and the episodes herein that do are generally better, but for relaxed, semi-serialised adventure Voyager is a high point.

We’ll start with the negative and get to the fun stuff.

From the get-go there was a jarring disconnect between the premise and goals of the show. If a ship more advanced than any in the region is travelling really fast in one direction they’re not going to keep running into the same people; better begetting a saga poised for episodic rather than serialised fiction. The writers and audience were evidently a little tired at this point of TNG’s slavish devotion to wrapping everything up in 40-odd minutes so wanted to try variations on a theme; it was the right approach for the time accompanied by a smart premise that didn’t match.

And a stellar premise it was only set to be buoyed by the Federation-Marquis dynamic. Also partly squandered, corresponding grounds for strong tension and stories were left by the wayside – characterised by Chakotay’s ill-established, apparently immediate and seemingly endless trust in Janeway; together major failings of the show.

On continuity, and just so it’s out of the way; no they don’t show it but it’s clear the crew just manufactured more photon torpedoes like they did so much else.

Commencing with one of the best episodes, there is rarely a subsequent moment as character-defining as Janeway destroying the array. Don’t get me wrong, Kate Mulgrew is great, but she alike Kirk and Picard are, as fleshed out as they become, for stretches bare variations on a tired theme; young headstrong hotshot dedicates their life to the stars to become a reasoned, seasoned Commander. ‘Tapestry’ did it best and there was no need to explore this further.

Voyager had a general problem with characters that took several seasons to grow; it was a long time before Neelix stopped being grating and his earnestness became endearing. There is too very little you can relay about Tuvak beyond his being a Vulcan and a little sardonic, or Harry besides his yearning for advancement or Chakotay aside his membership of the Marquis and focus on his cultural background.

The stand-out worst episode of the entire show was Chakotay finding out that the Sky Spirits central to his people’s religion were actually from the Delta Quadrant; you can garner Robert Beltran’s clear ambivalence (at best) to such material. This author is aware of the significant tension between the actor and others on set; I can understand the frustration at a lead cast member belittling the series in public but the directions and emphasis the character took in later seasons was something else, as were the music cues whenever his or some others’ cultures came up.

Star Trek, and notably The Original Series, is often (but not always) shrewd for both telling stories addressing the place of culture, religion and community in people’s lives while not overly if at all drawing attention to particular characters’ backgrounds. To Beltran’s credit, he only made the disaffection perceptible on screen in the episodes that were of poor taste, as opposed to the ones that were just bad. There are many lousy episodes of The Original Series but what near always makes it enjoyable is Shatner et al’s absolute commitment to the bit. One of the very worst episodes of Voyager is the one where Harry is lead to believe that he’s actually from a planet in the Delta Quadrant full of attractive women; yet no one in Star Trek ever needs to look bored reading their lines. There are good ones and bad ones and we’re along for the whole ride.

There’s also that one where Tom and the Captain turn into salamanders, start life on a random planet and somehow transform back into their usual selves with these shenanigans never brought up again. Yeah that was awful but it was preceded by a generally decent few acts centred on exceeding warp limits; reputation aside it wasn’t quite down there.

On Alpha Quadrant folks being in the Delta Quadrant, as much as I missed the Klingons they did not need to rock up latently and near the very end; there were plenty of better ways to give B’Elanna an arc. One of the more interesting characters, she offered a variation on Worf’s overwhelming pride as a Klingon, though she barely got enough episodes to shine and these were predominantly featured much later on. And when the show stopped pretending Tom was the cocky pilot we’ve seen dozens of times before he too managed to get a whole lot more interesting.

It would have made a lot more sense for McNeill to just directly continue his character from TNG’s ‘The First Duty;’ alas.

Also welcome were the insights into the Borg; even if they became a lot less eerie it was great to learn that much more about them, though nothing, save the introduction of Seven, bettered the recuperating drones who were the ship’s first Borg encounter. The Borg children were also very funny (the related Voyager pick-ups in Picard were excellent) and should have stayed on the ship longer so Seven could say more things like “fun will now commence;” she can only say “Naomi Wildman” deadpan, as good as it was, so many times.

Heralded by such a superb actress, Seven and the Doctor thrillingly shared dual arcs akin but distinct to Data’s and each other’s, permitting us to relish their gradual growth and revel in their leaps forward. Seven’s narrowing down of eligible crewmen, unlike Chakotay’s later courting, was a particular highlight, as was her month of isolation when the crew were in stasis and the one where the Doctor overtook her node.

The Doctor however emerges the best character, far and above all others save the near as interesting Seven. Picardo’s charisma and stage presence, well-befitting an exaggeratedly humanistic, bombastic piece of programming, only propelled the most relatable arcs in the series; his desire to fit in and, as any, make a contribution. The Doctor’s opening number in ‘Tinker, Tenor, Doctor, Spy,’ but one occasion where Picardo’s vocal abilities were graciously integrated into the series, by this author’s judgement is the funniest sequence in seven seasons.

‘Message in a Bottle’ with the Doctor centre was too among the very best of the series. Mining any opportunity for comedy we can nonetheless be grateful, alike TNG, that they kept the bald jokes to about one per season.

As asides, it was lovely to see Reginald Barclay return and realise his aspirations in one of the best and most heart-warming episodes of the saga, while the singular and very obvious inspiration one episode draws from Predator proved amusing for just being so unabashed.  

‘Scorpion’ was amazing as was anything to do with Species 8472. Captain Proton, acknowledging the entire franchise’s schlocky roots, was a definite recurring highlight, with Mulgrew in one installment clearly having no end of fun alike the cast’s enjoyable turns in late 90’s Los Angeles alongside Sarah Silverman. Speaking of guest stars, seeing The Rock was a nice surprise though with hindsight they may never have cast him given Star Trek shrewdly chose to not have celebrity appearances overshadow the show. But hey, they can’t see the future; at least cleverly opting to obscure Jason Alexander in piles of costuming.

‘Year of Hell’ is good, but the premise befitted an entire season and alike the lacklustre finale nothing really matters (with some well-executed exceptions) if you can just go back in or erase time. There were many, many episodes that shouldn’t have been contained within forty minutes and deserved longer-form devotion, ala ‘30 Days.’ ‘Timeless’was a much better (and unusually technically-focused) variation on the aforementioned themes and it was fun to catch Geordi, as it was Deanna and especially Sulu. ‘The Omega Directive’ was cool; ‘The Thaw’ was great.

The fable-esque nature of the franchise has always been enjoyable and digestible given the show is partially aimed at kids, though there are episodes where it’s just a little too direct, and characters take a little too much pause. ‘Alice,’ the one where Tom almost cheats with his ship as an overly obvious parallel about why you shouldn’t have sex with other people if you have a girlfriend, if a good lesson, in execution was a tad much.

On reflection this author was surprised to discover some of the least generally favoured episodes, among them the Fairhaven double. It may be my great personal affection for Ireland but it makes perfect sense that given the time available this sort of world would be created and characters might pursue holo-relationships, a theme underexplored in Voyager yet still covered to great effect. The established technical deficiencies of holo-technology in such regular use should not come as a surprise when they recur.  

The one where Kes comes back was actually a later highlight; her character was never very well handled and no it wasn’t that blast off into the sunset but sometimes old friends lose their way and it’s the job of old friends to set them on the right path.

Most surprising was the dislike directed at ‘Tuvix.’ The difference between Voyager and much heavier sci-fi is that herein characters make a lot of decisions that are hard, not ones that are difficult. The destruction of the array was devastating but not morally questionable within the confines of the show. As a tangent, you could argue that had Janeway made the decision to return to the Alpha Quadrant at the beginning of the series that it would have been the morally correct decision given that, as we see in ‘Hope and Fear,’ another highlight, the ship would not otherwise have been a factor in much disorder and destruction. The show was not however so expansive philosophically as to greatly tread such ground as the franchise otherwise managed in the likes of ‘City on the Edge of Forever.’

In ‘Tuvix’ Janeway, a figure, like Chakotay, who often shifted characterisation to fit the requirements of any given story, was faced with a difficult decision with no easy moral out nor ethically unquestionable approach. It was a refreshing change and correspondingly dark denouement to boot apparent in the likes of ‘Latent Image,’ another fine instalment with the Doctor.

‘Eye of the Needle,’ the only episode this author has watched twice to date and a deeply empathetic early high point, save ‘Balance of Terror’ is the best treatment of the guarded but necessarily relatable Romulans (I haven’t seen all the movies!). ‘The Void’ bookends the show as a later stand out while the in respects not dissimilar ‘Night’ bears one of the darkest challenges and finest, most resonant endings.

This brings us to the ‘best episode;’ one featured regularly in top ten lists but seemingly not a very favourite.

‘Blink of an Eye’ is everything that is exceptional and aspirational about Star Trek. Stranded in the stratosphere of a planet where time passes with greater rapidity, the curious presence of Voyager in the skies begins to influence the society to the point where the inhabitants develop space travel to face the spectre.

A commentary on the Prime Directive as deft as any and a relatively novel variation on both the time travel and petri dish tropes resplendent throughout sci-fi and Star Trek, the episode is also a fabulous meta-commentary on the place of the franchise in popular culture much less crude than Janeway bemoaning the Doctor’s fleeting interplanetary fans’ obsession with every aspect of his personal life. Incorporating a fair bit more science than is typically par, the astronaut’s moving decision to help them, as with his staring into the heavens as Voyager finally departs, speaks to the selfless ethos and sense of overwhelming curiosity so intrinsic to the most basic lore of Star Trek, the most beloved episodes and all that Gene Roddenberry best achieved.

It’s also an amazing meditation on first contact principles and pitfalls which unlike many episodes doesn’t borrow story bones from TNG.

A more than welcome reprieve from a pandemic, I didn’t spend as long in the Delta Quadrant as the crew but for what I did I was glad to relish with them.

Star Trek: Voyager is now streaming on Netflix

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 20 with special guests: Day 19, Day 18 and Day 15

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 20 : “You could talk about it, you know?”

Prompt 19 : “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Prompt 18 : “Secrets? I love secrets.”

Prompt 15 : “That’s what I’m talking about! ”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager, Skyrim

Words : 3,551

Warnings : light gore and mention of blood and body horror

Day 20, 19, 18, and 15 - Vorik x Modern!OC

With a loud whoosh the flames from my hands extinguished as the last vampire collapsed in a heap of ashen clothes. The cavern plunged into near-total darkness again save for the flickering torch on the stone floor that Vorik had been carrying until we were ambushed. One fairly short fight later showed them this coven never stood a chance. I shook out my still smoking hands and blew on them. “Damn, that will never get old. It's still so cool!”

“Technically, it would be hot,” my companion said dryly, nudging a set of black robes near the entrance with the toe of his boot. A dagger clinked onto the limestone and he bent to pick it up and inspect it.

I was already heading towards the line of cupboards and bookcases along one roughhewn wall to rummage through them. “‘Cool' is human vernacular, you know, for when things are—”

“Yes, I am familiar with the terminology.” I heard the clatter of metal from behind me. Dagger must not have been up to his standards, I thought with a smile.

“Oh, so you're just being facetious,” I laughed.

Vorik fixed me with a somewhat smug look. “Yes.”

“Jerk,” I said with a smile.

Returning to my grand work pulling out drawers, I had to marvel at the little details that didn’t exist when I would play Skyrim on my computer. Where before I would “Press A to open��� things and get a list of goods inside, I now had to work at finding anything worth looking for. I pulled out a rough linen dress from the bottom drawer and shook it out. I was rewarded by a puff of dust and the clatter of lockpicks on the rocks. One thing was for sure. This certainly felt a lot more like stealing now that I had to dig through physical objects to take things.

I grabbed the little coin purse tucked in the corner and turned around to search for the lockpicks I’d inadvertently spilled all over the floor, but my friend was ahead of me.

As Vorik extended his hand to give me the lockpicks, I noticed a streak of dark green on the inside of his arm.

I gasped. “Vorik! Are you bleeding?”

Appearing to notice it for the first time, the Vulcan inspected his forearm, loosening his leather braces so he could pull the shirt back. There, standing out stark against his pale yellow skin, thick dark green blood oozed out of two long jagged claw-like nicks. “Curious,” he murmured. “Are the safeties off?”

“They shouldn't be,” I replied slowly. “Computer? Status of holodeck safety protocols, please.”

An acknowledgment beep sounded in bizarre contrast to our surroundings from somewhere in the depths of the limestone vampire den. Then the robotic voice answered, “Holodeck Safety Protocols are still in effect.”

“Okay, thank you.”

We looked at each other.

“This wound is not real, then.”

“Looks pretty real,” I said doubtfully, reaching out to take his arm. But I stopped short and kept my hands to myself. “Does it feel real?”

Vorik glanced at me through his eyelashes. “Perhaps you should look away.”

“Why?”

“You're squeamish,” he said as though it should have been obvious.

I shrugged. “Whatever. It's not my blood.”

His eyebrow rose but he didn't say anything else before he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and squeezed. More blood seeped from the wounds running in long drips down his arm. A little gush shot into the air.

He was right. I should have turned away.

“What the fu—Oh, gross,” I choked before I clamped my mouth shut and spun around so my lunch wouldn't come up next. Even though on some level, I knew that our bodies acted differently despite looking very similar on the surface, I still wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t think I would ever have been prepared for blood spurts. My stomach churned.

“It does feel real,” I heard him say, his tone completely indifferent, “and it is acting real as well.”

“Well jus—ggkkh. Stop playing with it and just take care of it, will you?”

Unable to stand there without imagining more blood spurting from his arm, I wandered away towards the mouth of the cavern. It opened up into a long, steep passageway that led outside. It would take some time to walk but I knew that’s where it went. So whether the air was actually cooler or better circulated,  or I just imagined it was, being at the passage helped clear the dizziness somewhat. I certainly felt less like I would pass out, leaning against the rocky wall.

After a few minutes, Vorik joined me, his mouth turned in that slight secretive sort of smile that always killed me. “I did warn you to look away.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just so you know, we should find an herbalist or an apothecary as soon as we get back into town. You should have a Potion of Cure Disease on hand.” He looked over at me quizzically, so I clarified: “In case you get vampirism.”

This time my companion scoffed. “I cannot contract vampirism. I'm Vulcan.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” I laughed. “You think you're immune? Why? Because your blood is green or because your ears are already pointy? You were nicked with a vampire's claws, which means you can contract vampirism. Those are the rules of Skyrim set down by our lord and savior, Todd Howard.”

I felt more than I saw his eye roll. Together we ventured back into the gloom of the hallway. The torch in Vorik’s hand cast leaping shadows over the jagged limestone walls as we made out ascent.

“I am certain I cannot contract vampirism. This program was not made for my kind, the default avatar setting is human. And vampires can only be human, as they are human legends.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Sounds an awful lot like more speculation than a logical assumption, my dude. You don’t have to take my advice if you don’t want to, but you’d better stay away from my neck!”

                                                              ***

“Computer, end program,” Vorik said into the air. No sooner had the acknowledgment sounded than the world shimmered and disappeared around us. My house in Riften was replaced by the reflective metal and crosshatching, bonelike metal bars of the holodeck. Vorik’s armor and most of my own, with the exception of Gilmorrak and my belt, disappeared, replaced by our civilian clothes.

“Hey, how’s your arm, by the way?”

He unbuttoned the clasp at the cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his grey tunic. He twisted his forearm left and right for me to see. There was no trace of any blood now. No evidence that he’d been harmed at all.

“Evidently it was part of the holodeck program.”

I shook my head. “That’s weird though because I’ve been straight up stabbed and shot with arrows until I looked like a pin cushion and I still never bled. It’s got to be a vital part of the programming, dude.”

“It is strange,” he agreed, “but it shouldn’t be of any concern. The wound is gone now. It was likely an oversight on the part of Mr. Kim or Mr. Paris. Perhaps something about translating such an ancient game to the holodeck.”

I ignored his jab at Skyrim and flashed him a smile. “Unless you become a vampire in the next couple of days,” I said.

“I will not become a vampire.”

I shook my head at him and sighed as he led me towards the door. I was always a little sad to leave Skyrim, or any of the holodeck programs, honestly, but my crewmates needed time to play. If I didn’t have that pang of guilt and unfairness hanging over my head, I would be way too content to stay on a holodeck forever. It always astounded me while watching the show: How could these people have this technology and not want to be there all their lives?

“Can a person live in a holodeck program?” I asked as we exited. I recognized the next two eager adventurers as Ensigns from security, so I waved while Vorik nodded to them.

“No, so you should never try it,” Vorik said, catching on easily to my line of thought. He did that a lot. I guess I was just a simple sort of creature. “Most holodeck programs are not equipped for sustained use,” he went on, “You would drain the reactors quickly. And while some holodecks utilize food replicators, like our own, this is not true for each one. Non-starship decks tend to use lower grade protein synthesizers since holographic meals are not meant to be the staple of one’s diet. These would have negligible nutritional value and you would eventually waste away.”

“You’re a spoilsport.”

“And you would kill yourself chasing fantasy as a coping mechanism. Problems, even your emotional ones, should be faced head on. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

I stopped dead in the hallway and gaped at him. Vorik had continued several paces before he realized I was no longer beside him. He looked around expectantly, his hands clasped behind him, but my brain had 404-ed.

“Did you just…?” A smile crept onto my face. “Did you just… quote Albus mcfreakin’ Dumbledore at me?”

Vorik stared at me blankly.

“You did, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t catch it, but you did! You read it??”

Vorik’s eyes closed for a half a second longer than normal as he took a deep breath. His gaze cast downward for a moment as if resigning himself before he looked at me again. “Yes, I did—”

I rushed him and grabbed him by the arms, grinning from ear to ear now. “You did? You did! Ohmygosh! You have to tell me what you think. What part are you at? How far have you gotten? Were you planning on reading through all of them or were you just trying out the first one? Are you finished with it? Please—ohmygod—tell me everything!”

Appearing both bemused and like he had just realized he’d made a horrible mistake, my Vulcan friend led me towards the mess hall, succinctly answering my questions as rapidly as I fired them off.

                                                             ***

“You don’t look too good,” I told Vorik as I set my bowl of spaghetti down at our table in the corner of the mess several days later. It was quiet, halfway between a midshift, and the hall was all but empty save for a handful of people and one Vulcan with his head in his hands.

At my voice, he sat up straight and blinked whatever it was bothering him away. “I am fine.”

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fork in hand, he started picking at his food. “I just need to meditate,” he mumbled.

I nodded and spun my own fork in my noodles idly for a few heartbeats. But like so many somewhat intrusive thoughts, I couldn’t keep it in my brain, and I opened my mouth to say conspiratorially, “Unless.”

“Giana,” Vorik warned, closing his eyes.

“Is the vampirism making you peakish?”

“I am not a vampire.”

“Sounds exactly like the sort of thing a vampire would say,” I replied, jutting out my lip in a face of disbelief. “But seriously, you could talk about it, you know. The actual thing that’s bothering you, I mean, not your unfortunate illness.”

Vorik rolled his eyes at me and continued to push his food around his tray. Even that he gave up after a few moments with a sigh and a shake of his head. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Or allocate the proper time to meditate. I keep going over our run-in with mining colony virus. There has to be something else we could have done, without leaving the captain to take care of herself.”

I barely suppressed a shudder at the mention of the nasty bugs that solidified my now-very-rational fear of anything insect-like. Doing what I did best, I covered it with humor. “Are you not sleeping at night because your new lifestyle requires you to sleep during the day?” He opened his mouth like he was going to chastise me, so I quickly added, “Captains are supposed to be able to take care of things themselves, that’s why they’re captains. Besides, there wasn’t anything else you could have done. We all did our best! We didn’t know we were being attacked. I can’t believe I, of all people, have to tell you this, but agonizing over it isn’t logical.”

“Perhaps not. But analyzing a situation where I believe my abilities to have failed me for the purposes of self-reflection and to ensure it does not happen again, is.”

I waved my fork around and shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’m mad at myself too for forgetting that stupid episode happened. Must’ve blocked it out. Those things were so nasty. And I bet if we weren’t all so caught off guard maybe we woulda thought of the holodeck trick too. I dunno, just be glad the captain came back when she did and don’t lose your head over it. I don’t want you to spiral out of control with your analysis, my dude.”

“I will not. I am not you.”

“Ouch.”

A new person joined us at the table. Their tray clattered next to mine and I turned to find Harry grinning at me. Instantly, I beamed back. His smile was always so infectious.

“Hey guys. What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Nothing,” Vorik said.

“It’s a secret.” I said over him.

“Secrets?” chimed a new voice, “I love secrets.” Tom sat on Harry’s other side and almost immediately began shoveling his mashed potatoes into his mouth as soon as his tray was down. “Do tell.”

“There is nothing going on,” Vorik repeated, his voice a little tighter. “There are no secrets. Giana is being impossible.”

“Vorik is turning into a vampire!” I said in a rush. Vorik folded his hands in front of his face and fixed me with a Vulcan’s closest approximation to a glare. I smiled and nudged his boot under the table with my own. He didn’t respond.

Harry, however, did. He lowered his spoon from his face, looking stricken, and fixed me with a very serious look. “Giana! We…we don’t say things like that around here…”

What?

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. “Oh! No! Just ‘cause the- skin and th-the pointy— No, nonononono. We were playing Skyrim together the other day and he was scratched by a vampire’s claws so I’ve been teasing him, that’s all! It’s not—no!”

Finally, Vorik looked satisfied and returned my kick under the table. Then it was my turn to glare at him.

“Oh. Good,” Harry sighed, clearly relieved he was spared a lesson in microaggressions, “I was going to say… I’d be surprised if that’s what it was coming from you.”

I ate my spaghetti in silence, hoping Vorik never thought that’s what I ever meant. Maybe I was laying it on a bit too thick, bringing up his vampire-hood every so often over the last couple of days. I really did just think I was being funny, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I was just being a huge asshole.

“So you were hit by a vampire, huh?” Tom asked, bringing the conversation back. “Harry and I cleared out a den by Morthal for the Thaneship not too long ago. Harry wants to build the house.”

“I just think it’ll be better than all the pre-built ones!”

“Anyway, he had to chug two Potions of Cure Disease. He caught vampirism one right after the other.” Tom laughed and wolfed down the last of his steamed vegetables. “You end up bleeding?”

Vorik arched an eyebrow and glanced at me before warily answering, “Yes.”

Tom pulled an apologetic face. “Mmm, yup. You’re a vampire now.”

“Yes! I knew it!”

“But I am Vulcan,” Vorik said over me, “How can I become a vampire from Human folklore?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s all in the coding. It’s not that you’ll become human or anything, it’s just that the aspects of vampirism will be overlaid onto your Skyrim avatar and all the buffs and debuffs will apply. Think of it like a…a filter. A vampire filter.”

“See, no that’s what I was talking about; it had a purpose. Tom had to reinterpret the original game. Making you appear to bleed was probably just the indication that you caught something, otherwise, you’d never know because we don’t really have a convenient way to check our status. And you said it was probably nothing. Everything has a reason.”

Tom nodded.

I slurped the rest of my spagetti from the bowl and pushed it aside. “You ready to go back and get cured?” I asked Vorik. I wanted to get him alone again, maybe to keep talking to him about the virus or maybe make sure he didn’t think I was being rude. But I couldn’t keep one more from coming out. “The sooner you’re cured, the sooner the UV lights will stop burning your skin.”

“Will your vampire jokes cease when I am cured?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, probably.”

“Then absolutely.”

                                                              ***

The holodeck hummed to life and the blank room started being filled with materializing objects. Vorik fidgeted with his sleeve and sure enough, once the front room of our Riften house came into focus, the bandage seeping dark green blood reappeared as well. Hopefully taking care of the vampirism would take care of the uncanny wound that was not really a wound as well.

“First thing’s first. Let’s find an apothecar—eee!” As soon as he looked at me, I recoiled back. “Vorik…your eyes…”

He barely looked like himself in the torchlight. His face was sunken and shadowed and his dark eyes had been nearly swallowed by blackness from the irises out through the whites of his eyes. Black vein-like lines spread from his sunken sockets like a sickness, reaching towards his cheekbones in a spiderweb of tendrils. I could see now how vampires could be considered completely terrifying.

“Holy shit, dude.” I reached up and grazed the side of his face with fingertips, still looking in wonder at the vampiric effects that Tom and Harry had engineered. With a horrified realization it hit me that, yes, this is what a monstrous vampire should look like to an everyday person and I understood all the horror stories.

Vorik stiffened slightly as the pads of my fingers swept his temple and with a jolt in my stomach, I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand away.

“Do… Do you feel different? You look way different. How did I not notice this before??”

“It was dark the last time we played,” Vorik answered. He strode to the washbasin and peered into the spotted mirror above it. He prodded his skin and turned his head from side to side, admiring the reflection. “The detail is rather astounding, and the effect is…unsettling.”

“You can say that again. I very suddenly don’t want to be a vampire anymore myself.”

“I do not feel different,” Vorik continued as though he were observing the results of a particularly interesting experiment. “Perhaps because the sickness hasn’t been given time to spread?”

“Or just because you aren’t in the sun yet.”

“Fascinating.”

‘Fascinating’ though it might have been, I really wanted to get him taken care of. Though I didn’t remember Skyrim vampires looking like this (so maybe the blackness around his eyes wouldn’t stay) he was starting to creep me out just being in the same room. The effect it had on me when it wasn’t just pixels, when it was suddenly someone I knew, didn’t sit right in my brain. Not to mention that I would probably be really disturbed if I had to watch him feed off NPCs to keep his powers up.

Speaking of, I wondered if this meant that joining The Companions was out of the question for me now. If vampires looked this strange, imagine what if would feel like to be a werewolf. I shivered at the thought of my skin splitting and actually sprouting hair all over my body.

Nasty.

“Sooo…” I began in a nonchalant voice, wandering to the table and picking up an apple from a wooden bowl. “Is there something you wanna say to me, maybe?”

Vorik turned the full force of his unnerving face on me and I had to physically stop myself from recoiling by clutching the back of a chair.

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I admit it. You were right. I am a vampire.”

For the first time, I noticed as he spoke that the teeth that would have been his canines if he were a primate were far longer and sharper than they had been before. “Oh shit, you’re growing fangs too, dog. Yeah, let’s get you fixed up before you start thirsting for my blood.”

His expression as I darted out the door told me that, at this moment, he didn’t need to thirst after my blood in order to want to rip my head off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone actually made it all the way down here, gosh, I love you and you’re great and I appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed my nonsense.

[rebelsofshield]

Panels Far, Far Away: A Week in Star Wars Comics 11/13-11/27/19

It’s certainly unfair for Lucasfilm to pick my first semester of grad school to start supplying us with more Star Wars content than at any other point in recorded history. Jerk move on their part. Anyways, as a result, here are three (!) weeks worth of Star Wars comics review in which: Marvel’s ongoing ends its seventy five issue run, Doctor Aphra gets her groove back, and Chewbacca knocks some heads. Hopefully I can be quicker about this in the future!

11/13/19

Star Wars #74 written by Greg Pak and art by Phil Noto

In its seventh chapter, “Rebels and Rogues” hurtles towards conclusion. The result may just be the strongest installment of an arc that has been chockfull of great ideas, but often struggled on just how to tell its sometimes overly scattered story. With the different teams now in open communication with one another and each fighting for their lives in desperate situations, writer Greg Pak’s take on the galaxy far, far away has never felt more a live and energetic.

We hop between narratives with surprising ease and elegance and the flow of the story is easy to follow, high energy, and positively fun. Han, Leia, and Dar Champion are flying for their lives in a defenseless ship against an Imperial star destroyer, Luke and Warba are in route to the planet’s rebels but with an Imperial patrol of Stormtroopers riding velociraptors right on their tale, and Threepio and Chewbacca are right in the center of a growing conflict between the rock people of K43 and Darth Vader himself.

Threepio’s arc here still remains the most fascinating stuff in “Rebels and Rogues.” For the first time in a long time, old goldenrod feels like he has an emotional story all his own and it culminates in a moment of self-sacrifice that capitalizes off all the themes of sentience and personhood that this surprisingly delightful subplot has been playing with since day one.

The promised Chewbacca/Darth Vader showdown on the cover doesn’t occur until the comics final pages but it sets up what should be a killer finale. Noto draws a suitably visceral encounter and no other panel in this creative team’s legacy will likely spark as much joy as Chewie spiking a boulder off of the Sith Lord’s ebony helmet.

Score: A-

Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order: Dark Temple #4 written by Matthew Rosenberg and art by Paolo Villanelli

At the time of this writing, I’ve actually finished playing Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order. The first single player Star Wars game in over a decade provides a very fun and rewarding experience that is populated with some truly outstanding characters. The game also shows that its tie-in comic, Dark Temple is surprisingly more consequential than one might have originally thought. Sure, Cere and Eno Cordova were known characters in the game from the start, but Dark Temple sees the two encountering numerous elements from Fallen Order for the first time.

Even outside the comic’s surprising consequence to the game it draws from, Dark Temple continues to be a very entertaining prequel era narrative. Even four issues in, writer Matthew Rosenberg is still providing us with new information and twists that upend our understanding of what exactly is going on. Cere and Cordova may have gotten involved in something bigger than they originally anticipated and there is more on the line than freedom for Fylar. Rosenberg has weaved a complex web and just what exactly lies within the titular temple is just as much a mystery now as when it started.

It also helps that this comic is arguably the best looking Star Wars comic on the stands now. Paolo Villanelli has always excelled at drawing dynamic and well choreographed action sequences and he truly shines here as the violent conflict between Flyar and the DAA corporation explodes into full blown war. Villanelli is great at creating a sense of motion and scale and these moments of larger conflict are filled to the brim with well designed characters and explosive energy. Colorist Arif Prianto makes the comic feel like it comes ablaze too with multicolored embers peppering each panel.

Between the surprisingly complex story and the killer art, Dark Temple has quickly evolved into one of the stronger tie-in comics that Star Wars has released in recent memory and a significant improvement on both creator’s previous works in the franchise. Its final issue may not stick the landing, but this is a comic that is well worth considering picking up.

Score: B+

Star Wars Target Vader #5 written by Robbie Thompson and art by Cris Bolson, Robert Di Salvo, and Marco Failla

So turns out the Hidden Hand isn’t the rebellion? I’m very lost at this point. The mysterious crime organization that has been at the center of Target Vader from its start has always been its biggest head scratcher. A last panel reveal at the end of the comic’s first issue heavily hinted that the Hidden Hand was actually just an organization used by the Alliance to work in the criminal underworld. Over the past few issues, we have been given to doubt this reading, until now, where this theory is thrown out the door. Turns out the Hidden Hand may have older and more mysterious origins, but now we are just as lost as ever.

It speaks to the overall aimlessness of Target Vader. Despite the violent thrills of last issue, this miniseries has still been a mostly confused and overly long affair. Beilert Valance is still a mostly dull protagonist and his quest to neutralize Vader feels even more muddled than ever before. Writer Robbie Thompson does some work to try to remedy this situation by giving us an issue that is split between retelling Valance’s past and maiming by the Imperial military and the present where he is now caught between the grip of the Empire and the Rebel Alliance. It creates an interesting scenario for our central anti-hero, but ultimately fails to reveal much enlightening about Valance as a person. We may know why he is a grumpy, angry loaner by this point, but it doesn’t make his relatively one-note behavior any more interesting.

It also doesn’t really help that we have three guest artists on board instead of Stefano Landini. Marco Failla’s pencils may do a good enough job of approximating Landini’s style, but as a whole the result is a bit jarring as the comic never establishes a clear visual consistency. Combined with the fact that we already lost Marc Laming after issue one, this just adds to the weirdly confused reading experience that Target Vader has maintained to this point.

We have seen this comic work. Last issue’s installment was a brutally realized explosion of violent chaos, but we only have one issue now to really bring it all together, and I’m worried that Target Vader may not be up to the task of making this long, strange voyage worth it.

Score: C+

 11/20/19

Star Wars #75 written by Greg Pak and art by Phil Noto

All roads lead to K43. In its eighth and final chapter, “Rebels and Rogues” sees all our team members converge on the rocky moon for one climactic stand against Darth Vader and the Empire. In this extra sized finale, Greg Pak and Phil Noto try their best to pull the disparate threads of this arc together while also delivering a satisfying finale. The result proves fun, very strange, and ultimately forgettable. It ends with a summation of this run as a whole: filled with smart art and ideas, but lacking in standout storytelling beats to leave a lasting impression.

Some of the disappointment comes from the fact that much of this issue comes down to our various cast members beating up on Darth Vader. We open with the final blows of Chewbacca and Vader’s brawl which Noto clearly enjoyed bringing to life, but much of the rest of the issue resorts to the extended ensemble blasting away at him in various set pieces. It plays out like a miniature version of 2016’s Vader Down, but lacking in the edge and thrills of that original crossover.

There’s also some strange choices made with the rock people of K43 that don’t entirely gel with what came before. Part of what made these characters so refreshing throughout this story arc has been how Pak used their existence to challenge our characters’ concepts of sentience and to allow C-3PO to bond with another group of non organic life that is similarly overlooked. This fun play continues, but the conflict of it all is handwaved away in a manner that feels unusually flippant. Given the amount of effort put into finding a way around murdering this race, Pak introduces a last minute plot detail that makes it all feel unnecessary and that’s before the giant planet sized stone giant appears.

Yes, this comic gets very weird and it’s certainly fun, but it feels more than a little scattered and chaotic in a comic that already feels all over the place.

With that, we bid goodbye to this short but enjoyable era of Marvel’s Star Wars ongoing. While Empire Ascendant will presumably be the final issue of the main series, with it being rebooted for a new post Empire Strikes Back ongoing headed by Charles Soule and Jesus Saiz sometime in January, there is a sense of finality to this creative team’s last chapter aboard. Pak and Noto prove a fun bunch and had a great sense of playfulness and scope to this ongoing during its final days even if the execution wasn’t always immaculate. I’m glad to hear that Pak will be staying around to write the next volume of Darth Vader. He has some big shoes to fill, but if the heights of this comic are any indication, he is capable of the same spectacle and intrigue as past creators.

Score: B

11/27/19

Star Wars Adventures #28 written by John Barber and Michael Moreci and art by Derek Charm and Tony Fleecs

Chewbacca’s adventures with his porg sidekick, Terbus, are pretty much perfect fodder for an all-ages Star Wars comic. Given how strong Adventures’ visual storytelling has been since day one, having two protagonists who speak through grunts, squawks, and body language is right up this teams’ alley. Yes, it’s cutesy and yes it is a bit simple, but there is undeniable charm in the way Derek Charm draws us through the liberation of Kashyyyk. It may not be as visually inventive as last issue, but the way that Chewbacca hops through the forest and takes on First Order baddies is still illustrated with the same energy and personality.

There is a bit of tonal whiplash here though. While it’s hard not to be won over by Porg salutes and Wookiees knocking heads, there are moments where the enslavement of the Wookiee population is presented as an all too real possibility. The lighter, more playful execution of this issue may do a lot to make this subject matter more palatable for younger readers, but one wonders if this should have been the direction that the story went with at all.

Michael Moreci’s droid adventure is more tonally cohesive and certainly also a fun time, but it lacks the standout visuals and heart of the Chewbacca section. Last issue succeeded by pairing the under appreciated droids with another outcast that also was invisible to the First Order, but the events here are less concerned with character and theme and more so with the fun action of their plan. All the same, it’s still a decent read and sure to delight younger readers.

Score: B

 Star Wars Doctor Aphra #39 written by Simon Spurrier and art by Caspar Wijngaard

With just one issue left before the end of their tenure, Simon Spurrier and Caspar Wijngaard are pulling out all the stops for the end of Doctor Aphra. After the misstep that was “Unspeakable Rebel Superweapon,” it has been nice to see Spurrier get back in the swing of things with “A Rogue’s End” as each issue improves upon the last. Wijngaard and colorist Lee Loughridge feel more in sync here than ever before and Spurrier twists the knife as Aphra digs herself further and further into a disaster of her own making.

While she was first introduced in Kieron Gillen’s run on the title, Magna Tolvan and her relationship with Aphra have been staples of Spurrier’s run since he first stepped into the title. Here as we hurtle towards the big finish, it seems only fitting that the tortured and complex romance between these two very different souls take center stage. “A Rogue’s End” isn’t afraid to really dig into what it is about these two broken and confused women that drives their attraction to one another and just how deadly and ill advised their love, if it can be called that, is. It’s antagonistic, violent, but ultimately brimming with the sort of affection and tension that makes a good Star Wars romance sing. There is one image in particular here that is beautifully realized by Wijngaard and Loughridge and may rival the two’s first kiss for the iconography of this pairing.

It’s not all two woman coming to terms with one another under extreme circumstances, Aphra is still full speed ahead on her own mission survival. We hurtle towards a series of decisions at the issue’s end that may just cross the line into Aphra’s biggest moral slippage to date. Spurrier seems poised to deliver final judgement on what kind of person our dear rogue archaeologist may be, but knowing her and this series, the final thematic resting point is anyone’s guess. It’s a good thing that Spurrier makes the whole thing so damn fun to read and Wijngaard creates such beautiful imagery.

Score: A-

[whereintheworldisdani]

Monday October 16th, 2017 - Sunday October 22nd, 2017. The bulk of this post is going to be about my birthday over the weekend, but before I get into that, I do want to talk about the great experience I had at Epcot on Thursday.

I decided I wanted to avoid cooking and grocery shopping, so I went to Food & Wine at Epcot right after work. I spent a good deal of my time there walking around Japan and Great Britain (surprise surprise, right?). I actually posted a video of some of the drum show they do in Japan, it is really entertaining so I encourage you to check it out. In Japan there is a Japanese department store which I spent way too much time in (probably). There are SO many different types of souvenirs and candies and clothes and things in the store. And yes I wanted to buy it all. However, I settled on a post card and a picture. When I checked out, I got to speak in Japanese to the cashier (or at least what Japanese is left in my brain to speak). It wasn’t much, but it certainly was something.

After that, I wandered into the tea shop in Great Britain. As we all know, I LOVE tea, and what tea do I love the most? Twinings. And what was the only tea they sold in the shop? You guessed it (hopefully). There were also lovely tea cups and pots and mugs in the shop. BUT there were also biscuits and Mars bars which I have missed so dearly since leaving London. And there probably isn’t any shock or surprise as to what I bought: Lavender Earl Grey Tea, biscuits, and a Mars Bar. I struck up a conversation with the cashiers about being a Disney Cast Member and having lived in London (one of them was quite impressed I could pronounce his hometown ��Leicester”, England. Look it up, probably not pronounced the way you think).

Later I met up with some friends and we ran around to a bunch of different food stalls for dinner. It was a pretty fantastic evening for lack of a better way to put it.

And then the weekend happened. WOW what a birthday. Honestly, this may have been the best birthday yet, or at least it is in the top. But really, how great does a birthday at Disney sound? And even better, my lovely and wonderful parents flew in for the occasion. This past weekend was truly amazing.

On Saturday I picked mom and dad up from the airport and we wasted NO time; we hit the ground running and took off for Epcot to check out the Food & Wine Festival. We made a quick stop at “Club Cool” (the place where you can taste Coke products from around the world) so we could try some sodas and get myself a birthday button. Pro tip: if you are looking to feel like the royalty you truly are, pick yourself up a birthday button at any store in the Disney parks. On the surface, it is just a circular pin that says “happy birthday” on it, but underneath, oh it is SO much more. You put that thing on and BOOM you get smiles and happy birthdays left and right! People even write happy birthday on stuff for you, and you get gifts when you go out to eat!

So with my new super power on hand, the three of us took Epcot by storm. We went to food stalls in Scotland, Ireland, The U.S., and Australia, and honestly probably others, we ate so much food. We also road on Test Track and Soarin’. I’m convinced Soarin’ has become mom’s new favorite ride. She was in complete awe the whole time. But as far as Test Track went… well you can see in the photo that only one of us wasn’t so photogenic. You can also check out the car Dad and I designed.

At night, we went the Biergarten restaurant in Germany. In true Bavarian style, they seat you at a table with random people, and there is a buffet full of AMAZING German food. And while you eat, there are performers playing instruments and singing songs. I was a big fan of the place. 10/10 would recommend. And of COURSE what helped to make it awesome was the waiter printed a Biergarten birthday certificate for me, and gave me some Mickey and Minnie stickers.

Oh, and a note on the people we were sharing a table with: there was a guy there by himself, and a family of four, and then the three of us. The guy who was there by himself was from just outside of Seattle, and as you all know, my lovely brother Craig and future sister Heather live in Seattle, and the family of four was from Portland (not the same, but near there at least). And then the guy from Seattle was talking about how he had just come from Baltimore before going to Disney, which is what my parents did (they had just spent the weekend in Baltimore), and the father of the family of four is originally from Baltimore. BUT WAIT THERE’S MORE. The mother of the family of four was celebrating her birthday this past weekend JUST LIKE ME. WHAT?! Pretty crazy.

So now on SUNDAY (my actual birthday) Mom and I went to Hollywood Studios while Dad had to rest up his knees for the Halloween party later in the day. I, of course, had happy birthdays left and right, and even the barista at the Starbucks wrote happy birthday on my drink. Honestly, I felt like royalty. Like, people telling me happy birthday just made me feel on top of the world.

Mom and I did all our favorites and then some. I took her to the Frozen Sing-a-Long, and we cracked up the whole time. We also went to the Beauty and the Beast show, which we went to when I was a tiny human. When it gets the part in the show (or any rendition of Beauty and the Beast) where Beast turns back into a human, and he says “Belle it’s me!” And then she looks at him and says “It is you!” We always laugh because when I was little, I always called him “Prince Itisyou” and my parents never knew why, UNTIL they took me to see the Beauty and the Beast show at Hollywood Studios. Mom says it was the biggest “aha” moment ever. Anyway, when it got to that point in the show, mom and I started laughing, and then we started crying, and then we were laughing and crying. He will forever be Prince Itisyou.

Afterwards we saw The Voyage of the Little Mermaid and rode on Rock ‘n’ Roller Coaster, Star Tours, and Tower of Terror. It was a long day, but it was GREAT.

AND THEN in the evening, we snagged Dad, I put on my costume (Honey Lemon from Big Hero 6; look up a picture for comparison, I look just like her, and FOUR people recognized me and complimented me), and we headed off to Magic Kingdom for Mickey’s Not So Scary Halloween Party. For five hours in the evening, Magic Kingdom turns into one giant Halloween party, complete with trick or treating. We started the night on Space Mountain, the single most greatest ride in the world. The whole party, however was started with the Sanderson Sisters of Hocus Pocus brewing up a “party potion” with the help of some villains. Check out the videos I have posted, they were AMAZING. I absolutely adore Hocus Pocus, and it was amazing to see the Sanderson Sisters perform. Where else could this happen other than Disney?!… and well I guess, Salem in 1993, but whatever.

Later, we rode the Haunted Mansion, which Dad doesn’t think is scary, but I think it is pretty terrifying. Then again, I can hardly watch a Goosebumps film without jumping. After that we went on Peter Pan WHICH I HAVE NEVER BEEN ON. Shocking, right?! Seeing as I know that film, book, and all other adaptations backwards and forwards. The cue leading up to the ride is truly magical. You get to walk through the Darlings’ home, and see the nursery and Peter’s shadow appears, and Tink comes in as well! It is safe to say I love the ride. It is amazing, at least for those of us who are obsessed with Peter Pan.

We got off the ride in time to see some of the Halloween parade. The parade has TONS of characters, and they all dance and sing along to the Halloween music playing on the loud speaker. Again, check out the photos, I even posted a video of the Jolly Roger (Captain Hook’s ship in case you don’t know).

We had to leave the parade early in order make our dinner reservation at Be Our Guest. Now, Be Our Guest is this amazing French restaurant made to look like Beast’s castle, complete with picture gallery, Ballroom, and West Wing. Before you enter, a host comes out in the dim light carrying Lumiere to escort you in and to your table. They play instrumental versions of the music from Beauty and the Beast over the speakers, and Beast comes out to meet his guests. Dinner was delicious. I had ratatouille, and tried the onion soup and shrimp and pasta my parents had. It was all just wonderful. And for dessert, the waiter brought out a plate of the Grey Stuff (it’s delicious!… if you don’t get it, please listen to Be Our Guest) with a candle, and in the shape of Mickey. It was such a wonderful surprise, and he later came up with a birthday card signed by Belle and Beast. Truly, the birthday button has power. After we paid, we met Beast and took a photo with him. He was quite the gentleman. Maybe someday Prince Itisyou will be there to greet guests…

After we left, I was wiped, but the parents wanted to run around and snag as much candy as possible. Honestly, from the way we were talking you wouldn’t be able to tell who was the parent and who was the kid (I had work the next day, so sue me!). It was so much fun. Honestly, the day was practically perfect (in every way!… really, if you don’t get it, then get on my level).

I could not have asked for a better weekend. Thank you to EVERYONE who wished me a happy birthday; it meant the world to me. And also, thank you to my parents for flying out to spend it with me and make it AWESOME.

This adventure is brilliant, and I am loving every minute of it. (Well maybe not EVERY minute, but you get it! Right?)

Until next time!

[suwya]

Till the Stars Had Run Away - Chapter 1

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Summary:  Killian Jones was a voyager. Actually, he was many things, or at least he had been - a lieutenant, a brother, a loving boyfriend - until everything had turned upside down and his life had hit an all time low. So, he gave up. Aboard his spaceship he abandoned Arcadia, his planet, navigating the stars and other solar systems in search of... well, he still didn't know what he was searching for, but his rule was "never remain in the same place longer than necessary."

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Rating: M

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Prologue

AO3

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A/N: Thank you @thisonesatellite​ for being the best beta I could ever ask for. And thank to all of you who are reading this. 

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Chapter 1.

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How many loved

Your moments of glad grace,

And loved your beauty

With love false or true;

But one man loved

The pilgrim soul in you,

And loved the sorrows

Of your changing face.

(W. B. Yeats)

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Ten years later.

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It was a warm late evening. Killian was at home dedicating his time to his most precious love: his spaceship. 

He had traveled the multiverse for ten long years. He and his friend Robin had left New Tolemac a couple of days after Killian's encounter with the Princess on the shore. They had spent four years away with one thrilling adventure after another, with no worries on their minds, and it had been liberating. 

One day they had landed on Althea-Seals, a quiet planet, always dry and warm with no differences between seasons. Neither seas nor woods, but never-ending yellow sand and rocks all over the surface. 

It wasn't a place full of opportunities to become rich and famous, but they weren’t looking for that. It was a planet inhabited by a mix of people from the four corners of the universe. And most of them went about their own business, accepting anyone who wanted to enter without asking too many questions.

Althea-Seals was big enough to hold a couple of large cities and some small villages around them. Places were called using numbers, starting with the two biggest cities named I and II. They had decided to stay in a village called VI, mostly a bunch of houses dug in the light yellow rock of the hill that dominated the south-west of II.

Robin had opened a tavern and had started to settle down. He had met a beautiful girl, Marian, and soon fallen head over heels in love with her. Luckily the feeling was mutual. 

Killian had become a supplier, flying back and forth from Althea-Seals, transporting goods in his ship to other planets, or procuring exotic items for his clients. His need to explore every possible universe had never abandoned him. 

But he had always come back: He had come back for his friends’ wedding, he had come back when their son Roland had been born, he had come back when Robin's wife had died after a severe illness... and that was when he had finally decided to stay more present in his mate's life, to help the other raising the little kid. 

So his trips had become less frequent, and when he had to go, he had tried to stay away no more than a couple of months at a time, always bringing back some curious toy or gadget for little Roland. The kid loved the stories of the journeys, trying to imagine the different places that uncle Kil had visited. 

The three of them lived next to each other, two apartments separated by a wall. Killian's was the smaller one: a living room with an open kitchen, one bedroom, and a bathroom, but actually, he didn't need more space. Robin's apartment was the same, with the addition of another bedroom. 

It had been a few months since his last trip and Killian was feeling a bit restless. He had parts of his ship’s engine scattered on his living room table. There wasn't an actual problem with them, but the last time he had gone on a journey he had heard some noises he hadn’t liked. So he was cleaning some pieces: Better be sure.

A knock on the door distracted him from his thoughts. When he opened it he didn’t see anyone at first, but then he lowered his gaze and a brown mop of hair came into his field of vision. “Uh... can I help you?” He asked the young boy that came with it.

“Are you Killian Jones?” The boy asked back with curious eyes.

Killian studied the person in front of him. He was probably nine or ten years old, skinny, freckled face, eyes the same color as his hair; he was wearing casual non-branded clothes, with a grey and red scarf and a backpack hanging from one of his shoulders. 

The man didn’t detect any threat, so he decided to answer honestly. “The very same one. And you are...?” 

“My name is Henry. I'm your son.” He announced with a bright smile.

Killian thought he didn’t hear correctly. “I beg your pardon?" But when the boy just stared at him back with a big grin, Killian felt the need to clarify "I'm pretty sure I don't have a son, lad.” At those words, the boy ran into the house without permission. 

“Hey! Where are you going?” 

“What's this?” Henry asked, pointing at all the pieces on the table. “Are you a mechanic?” He seemed to be full of questions but less inclined to answer ones.

“No, I'm not,” Killian replied patiently. “These are parts of my ship's engine that need to be fixed.”

“You have a spaceship! Cool!” Enthusiasm was something quite evident in this young man. “I knew you were the only one who can save my mom.” 

That was enough. “Save? From what?" Killian was starting to lose his patience. Who was this kid, and why was he in his house? “And who exactly did you say your mother is?”

“I didn't say it.” Henry shrugged.

“Does she know you are here?”

“Nope.”

“I should probably bring you back home.” Killian kept his door open to invite the unexpected guest to follow him. It was getting dark outside.

“Are you going to help us?” The boy asked with a hopeful look while going out.

Killian didn’t want to disappoint the lad, but he needed more information before deciding anything he could regret later. “Well, that depends. Maybe your mother doesn't want to be helped. Come on, let's get going, you'll explain what you need my assistance for while walking.”

They kept a good jog for quite a few minutes in silence until they reached the borders of the village. Darkness was already surrounding them, and Killian wondered if the boy had spent the whole day searching for him. 

Henry headed towards a suburban district of II, one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city. 

Killian was expecting the lad to start explaining his story, but when it didn’t happen, he decided on a different approach. “What's in the backpack?” He asked.

“Just my stuff.” The boy was being evasive.

"You mean your school stuff. Did you skip your classes to come to find me?" He inquired.

"Maybe. Are you going to tell my mother?" He asked, but he didn't wait for an actual answer and went on. "It doesn't mind. She will figure it out eventually. It's impossible to lie to her."

"Mothers tend to have the ability to find out the truth," Killian said with a soft smile on his lips.

"No. I mean, she has this superpower, you know? She can detect a lie from a million miles away."

"Can she?” He asked, but he wasn’t surprised, he had seen many strange things during his trips, so why not someone with an ability to find out the truth. “A useful skill, indeed."

The boy went silent for a while. He was chewing his bottom lip, a gesture that reminded Killian of something or someone, but he couldn’t quite figure out what it was. Then the boy spoke again. “There’s this bad guy. I saw him talking to my mom. I know she is afraid of him, even if she tells me I don’t have to worry about him.” He went on walking and then added: “She works so hard to give me a normal life. I want to help her, but I don't know how. That’s why I came to you. Maybe you can help us.”

“What does she do for a living?” Killian was still trying to understand the whole story, and if he really had something to do with it, or if the boy was wrong. But of one thing he was sure: He did not have a son.

“She finds people.”

“Come again?” That was unexpected.

“You need to find someone? She finds this person for you. She’s pretty good at it.” The lad explained.

“What if someone doesn't want to be found?”

“Well, those are the best rewarded, the most difficult ones. Sometimes she spends months going after someone, and then... Bang! She finds a good lead! She has those devices, you know.” 

“Devices?” Killian asked.

“Yes. You can search for names, or birth dates, or relatives, and many other keywords. Mom says I shouldn’t touch those things, but...”

“Is that how you found me? Did you use your mother’s devices?”

The boy didn’t answer but he seemed frankly contrite. Then he stopped in front of an old decrepit building carved in the yellow rock and Killian sensed that it might be the kid’s house. 

A dusty light bulb spread dim shadows throughout the entrance, Henry climbed the stairs two by two and Killian followed him up to the fourth floor where the boy reached a door with no numbers on it, exactly equal to the other doors on the landing. The perfect kind of place where you hide if you want to go unnoticed, Killian thought. Maybe the lad was right and his mother needed some help indeed. What trouble am I getting into? He saw the boy taking a deep breath before grabbing the handle of the door to open it with resolve.

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***

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Killian stood in the door frame watching the scene in front of him. The kid had run inside the house leaving the backpack on the floor next to the door, and was now in the middle of the small living room, enveloped by his mother's arms, who had bent down to hug him and was caressing and kissing his head.

Killian scanned the room, which seemed to be the whole apartment: a table surrounded by a couple of old armchairs and two mismatched chairs, a kitchenette on the right, and a bunk bed on the left. The bathroom was probably in common with the rest of the apartments on the same floor. Killian didn’t expect a luxury hotel suite, but this, well, this was miserable.

"Henry!" She sobbed.

As soon as he heard her voice, Killian instantly steered his gaze to the woman kneeled in front of her son. He could see that her eyes were slightly red and a bit swollen as if she had been crying for some time. 

She was older than he remembered, but alas 10 years had passed for her as well. She wasn't the fragile girl anymore, but a beautiful grown-up woman. Her hair was shorter, wavier, and a bit darker than the last time he saw her. Killian couldn't believe his eyes, but the very Princess of New Tolemac was now in front of him, in one of the poorest rock houses of the planet. 

“Mom!” The lad started to speak, but his mother interrupted him.

“Henry, are you alright? Oh my God! I was so scared! Where have you been? You know what? It doesn't matter.” She was rambling without pause, kissing her son’s forehead. “What's important is that you're home again and you're fine!” Then she looked at Henry seriously: “You are, right?”

“Yes, yes, I'm ok,” Henry reassured her. “Mom, I've found him!” He exclaimed enthusiastically. 

“Who?” She asked, a little perplexed. 

“My father! I've found my father!” The boy explained. 

“Uh…” She seemed to be out of words, and if Killian was good at reading her, the look in her eyes was one of concern. Then she looked up and her eyes found the man standing at her door. The concern was gone in one second, and her eyes widened in disbelief. She opened her mouth but no word came out. 

“Mom, this is Killian Jones. Killian, this is my mom, Emma Swan.” Henry introduced.

Emma Swan. Killian repeated in his mind. The surname didn’t ring any bells. She had probably changed it during the years. That, the place where she was living, and the fact that Henry admitted she needed help, gave him the chills. Something was wrong, so very wrong. But he decided to keep those thoughts to himself.

“It's nice to see you again, Emma.” He smiled.

“Of course, you two already know each other. I mean. I exist, so…” Henry giggled.

“Seriously kid?” She inquired incredulously at her son, with a slight red blush on her cheeks. 

But Henry was already distracted by something on the square table behind him “Dinner! I'm starving.” He said joyfully. 

This seemed to wake her up from her trance and she stood up from her previous position. “Wash your hands before sitting at the table.” She warned while the boy was already discarding his scarf and jacket over one of the armchairs.

Killian could recognize the authoritarian tone of the Princess he once knew and a smile appeared on his lips. Then she turned towards him and with no words, she approached him and put a couple of fingers on his chest, softly pushing him out of the house. He complied. 

When they both were outside, she almost closed the door behind her. She wasn't looking at him, she seemed more interested in her shoes. “I'm sorry for all the problems Henry may have caused. If there's anything I can do for you…” 

But Killian dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “No problem.”

“Thank you for bringing him home.” Her tone was genuinely thankful.

“It was the right thing to do.” And when she didn't reply he felt it was the moment to say goodbye. 

He started stepping back but suddenly stopped and turned around facing her again. “Uh... now that I think about it. There is a thing you could do for me.” He tilted his head arching an inquiring eyebrow “I have one question” he said, emphasizing his words lifting one of his fingers “why does your boy believe that I'm his father?” 

At those words, she lifted her gaze to look straight into his eyes.