She told herself later that she had been driven to that point by fear. Fear told her that she would end her journey alone and to pretend otherwise was courting unnecessary pain. Fear told her that he would grow tired of her and her problems long before the end, that he would never want or love the child they had created together, and that what she felt was irrelevant.
Fear was a powerful thing. It led people down paths that felt true, even if they were lies.
Loving was always a risk, but she had known since the day she had first asked him for a date, a real date, that there was something special about him. That exploring that relationship was important. That given enough time, whatever it was she felt for him could become love. She’d never had that before and Harry had seemed to be the safest possible person with whom to go looking for it.
But almost as soon as that journey had begun, fate had intervened, throwing one crisis after another at her until she’d barely had time to breathe, let alone consider her future dispassionately. Harry had become her lifeline, the one solid place she could always go to find comfort. As long as that remained true, it didn’t matter how much time she had left or exactly how her body was finding new ways to fail her right now. This, her connection to Harry, was essential to her continued survival.
She didn’t know if that was love, but it was close enough.
He finally lifted his head and shifted his position so that they could sit side by side, his hand firmly holding hers.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be. You’ve taken responsibility for everything. And you’re not usually one for procrastinating when it comes to your emotions. It’s one of my favorite things about you. You stay present for the good and the bad. I never need to wonder what you’re feeling. I just have to look at your face to see it.” She squeezed his hand gently. “But that stopped the minute we woke up in the middle of this nightmare. You’ve been holding everything in, afraid that if you let yourself feel how awful all of this is, you’ll break, and you’ll scare everyone who is looking to you for leadership. All the things you feel, Harry, you don’t need to hide them or hold them in. They are your greatest strength, and everyone who knows you at all knows that.”
“We needed him,” Kim said.
“We did. I only met him a couple of days ago, but I wouldn’t have gotten through them without him. He knew when to talk, when to make a dumb joke, and when to listen. And he wasn’t afraid to look stupid. If I asked him to do even the smallest thing and he didn’t understand, he made damn sure he did before he touched anything. He was a great security chief.”
“Out of curiosity, what makes one a great security chief?” Kim asked.
“You looking for pointers?”
“Maybe.”
“Good security chiefs make you feel like they will jump in front of a phaser for you. Great ones make you want to do the same for them. And yes, you are also one of the great ones.”
“Do you know if he had any family?”
“He said he had a sister and a couple of nephews, maybe? Nobody else in Starfleet, though.”
Kim nodded. “I wish I’d had a chance to work with him and the other security teams on DK-1116. I wish I knew more about him beyond the fact that he traded his life for our chance to communicate with the fleet again. If we ever get out of here, it will be to his credit.”
“I wish I didn’t know how terrified he was at the end,” Conlon said flatly.
Kim nodded and both sat for a long miserable moment in silence.
“You need to inform the crew—officially, I mean. Rumors move at maximum warp on a ship this small, and it’s going to frighten people if they don’t get the facts from you.”
Kim nodded. “Are these working yet?” he asked, gesturing to his combadge.
“Should be.”
“What am I… I mean, how do I…?”
“Just tell them the truth. They need to hear it and he deserves that much.”
The Doctor had only served with Commander Clarissa Glenn for a little over a year. In that time, she had proven herself to be a competent physician and an extremely patient commanding officer. Their crew was young and eager but lacked the tempering he had come to associate with the more experienced officers that held senior positions among the rest of the fleet. Glenn led them with a firm hand, always conscious of their relative inexperience while still demanding that they meet her expectations and exceed their own. She did not merely issue orders or make demands. She offered instruction when necessary, encouragement when appropriate, and made time to get to know those she led as individuals.
The Galen had been the brainchild of his creator, Lewis Zimmerman, and Lieutenant Barclay. Together they had proposed the construction of the small vessel meant to serve as a supplemental medical resource for fleets like Project Full Circle, whose mission parameters took them well beyond the Federation’s medical infrastructure. It was also meant to be a test bed for the next generation of holographic personnel. Although these supplemental officers had yet to see much action, both the Doctor and Barclay were anxious to test their abilities. In time, the Doctor hoped that others like him might show signs of exceeding their original programming and Glenn had embraced that potential more readily than many in her position might. To her credit, she made no distinction between the Doctor and her organic crew, accepting that he was a unique individual and always giving him her full support and a friendly ear when needed.
They had journeyed together to Starbase 185 when Starfleet had recovered a former Borg drone known
