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Dukat was silent as he listened to what Damar told him and he could feel rage growing. He was almost apoplectic as he looked at his fellow Cardassian. He had always liked Damar and had found him to be good and true soldier and solid in his beliefs but this was beyond a joke. “I hope you’re not suggesting what I think you are Damar,” His said his tone was harsh and showed that his level of anger was now dangerous. Dukat was half tempted to reach over and knock some sense into the younger man but he refrained. “I suggest you drop the topic. I like you and I don’t want to have to do something to drastic to stop that loose tongue of yours,” Dukat said sourly.

He glanced around and made sure that the little Vorta wasn’t anywhere nearby to hear what they were discussing. The last thing he wanted was for him to get involved in the conversation. “I think we can allow the Bajroan people some concessions now don’t you?” He asked lightly his anger fading slightly but it was still close to the service. “Once we hold the Alpha Quadrant there will be nothing to stop us from putting them into their place and that includes Odo,” He said. Oh he was well aware of how Weyoun worshipped the very air Odo seemed to breathe and it sickened him. Weyoun had given him almost everting he’d asked for and that was irritating. “But for now we we play the role we’ve been given,” Dukat told him sharply. As much as he loathed it they needed the Dominion to be able to get even close to their goals.

“If you do anything to upset Ziyal…or the Major I will not be happy do you understand?” He asked. He knew that one would only upset the other so he didn’t want either of them unhappy. He didn’t really care if he liked it or not. He would have to do what he was told. Dukat would accept no further discussion on the subject. “Now why don’t we discuss that something that actually should be concerning us. Those damn mines,” Dukat said sharply. He paused when he heard the little Vorta come into the room his mere presence making Dukat’s skin crawl. “Not a word,” He murmured though h knew that the Vorta would no doubt be able to hear what he had said.

Damar clenched his jaw, taking a deep breath. Inside, he was seething, and he couldn’t entirely keep his frustration from his expression. He’d never been good at being anything but bluntly honest, and some part of him was aware that Dukat was the very opposite. He was the politician that Damar could never be… and the leader Damar couldn’t be either.

He fixed a cold stare on the Vorta instead of directing it at Dukat. Regardless of how he felt in that moment, he didn’t want to give even the slightest impression of tension between the two of them.

Reno’s eyes crinkled. It wasn’t quite a smile, but it was as close as she could get when it came to this topic. “I know. Just don’t get too sentimental on me, all right? Don’t know if I could take it.”

    The moment she felt the woman’s reaction to her words she felt bad for lashing out. She had allowed her frustration to take the upper hand and it wasn’t fair at all for her friend, she KNEW that but when Tasha had tried to talk to her she had simply snapped without thinking twice about it. She was overworked and she knew it but she couldn’t blame OTHERS for it. 

   “ Tasha … I’m SORRY. It’s just … a lot has happened lately. ” She sighed, burying her head in her hands. When she looked up again she tried to offer the woman an apologetic smile and gestured her to sit down next to her. “ I shouldn’t have been so harsh. This all isn’t your fault at all. I just ..didn’t want to talk about my problems and I admit I LOST my composure for a moment. ”

Tasha took a deep breath. It wasn’t easy for her to let go of that feeling of being rejected, but she had to. This was Deanna, and she could see that Deanna was hurting. She sat with her, and even managed a crooked little smile. “It’s not so bad to lose your composure now and then. I think I’m an expert on the subject; I’m not entirely sure I’ve ever found my composure in the first place.”

          Una quirked an eyebrow at his stuttering attempt to start, to voice whatever it was on his mind. She caught herself a moment later, straightened her own features. There were times when giving him a hard time was, perhaps, both justified and perhaps even good for him. This, however, certainly did not seem like such a moment. The words which followed, the clench  of his jaw, these confirmed her suspicions. No, whatever this was, it was a serious matter, and therefore one she must treat most carefully.

          If she might have had her way, they’d have had the conversation then. Not there, of course, in the midst of the crew, but now, before Spock might change his mind about discussing whatever preoccupied him to the point of distraction — and to the point of reaching out to her. She was not to have her way, however, for she had but five minutes left of her lunch break and would be due in a meeting. Wordlessly, she reached for the padd she’d discarded upon his arrival, not in dismissal nor in lack of interest, but to check her calendar.

          As ever, her schedule left scarcely a moment’s rest, but if she rushed a few of the more verbose department heads through their updates, she could rearrange it to grant herself at least a half hour. It might take nearly that long for him to get to the point, she thought wryly. It was not something she was accustomed to with their straightforward Lieutenant Spock.

          She made the arrangements. Shortening appointments, shifting them.    ❛ 1545? ❜    she said at last. It’s only half a question; she can see to it that if he’s expected elsewhere at that time other arrangements are made. But if she remembers duty shifts right, it shouldn’t require alterations.    ❛ My office. ❜

Relief came first, then shame. He had to clench his jaw to keep either emotion from registering on his face. Everything was too close to the surface without enough sleep or meditation. He could only be grateful that she’d stated it as an order. That was part of why he came to her. She did not react with a level of emotion that would make it more difficult to manage his own.

Finally, he managed to say, “Yes, sir.” He got to his feet again. He did not wish to take up any more of her time than necessary, and he certainly did not wish to remain in such a crowded setting. However, before he left, he added, “Thank you.”

Luckily, in the time between scheduling the meeting and the meeting itself, there were no further incidents. His focus had come at an expense, though, and when he arrived at her office at three seconds before 1545, his state of exhaustion had intensified.

At least their conversation would be away from the others, and he trusted that, even if he was unable to maintain this facade of perfect control, she would not tell anyone the details. Although perhaps she would feel the need to inform the captain. He could not fault her for that.

Calling Spock was always going to be met with failures since she had moved from the house and to her role in Starfleet but that hadn’t stopped her from trying. Thus, only made her to be a little more creative in her approach for at least one conversation that she hoped would be civil. 

Already, she knew to craft a conversation to the relevance of the topic; his new placement at Starfleet. Less personal so things wouldn’t ultimately end up in a battle of unwanted emotions of their…past. 

While she had been able to use Amanda’s channel for this, it had made her nervous to actually send the call request; waiting to see if he’d pick up. Of course, logically, he would; he believed it was their mother calling but this trick, she could guess would not be happening again. She knew herself well enough to ensure it wouldn’t happen again if she got a call from someone she didn’t want; it would be no different for Spock to do the same if he so dearly wanted. 

Though she put on a clear expression as the call was expected, her posture straight as his hologram too appeared in front of him; staying still as he realized who she wasn’t. 

Micheal’s head nodded once. “I have. A much agreeable decision, might I add.” She could only guess how their dear father was like; the expectation that Spock wasn’t signing up to the Vulcan Expeditionary Group wasn’t being fulfilled. “I do apologize for the deception but I must ask you not to close the line so soon. I would like to talk to you, especially on the topic of Starfleet.” 

Spock’s expression remained blank, but behind his back, he squeezed his hands together hard enough that his knuckles hurt and the tips of his fingers felt slightly numb. 

“You would like to talk to me,” he repeated flatly. He lifted his chin. “What would you like to talk to me about, Michael, that is so urgent that you felt the need to lie?” 

He emphasized the word the way their father would sometimes emphasize a word to express his displeasure. A Vulcan does not lie, in theory, but neither of them is entirely Vulcan.

“If it is your intention to expound upon the many ways in which my decision is a mistake and a betrayal, I assure you, the case has already been made, and I have rejected it.” 

The arguments had lasted for days. Every word that his father had said remained fixed in his mind. Although he was moving further away from Vulcan with each moment, still, it was as if his father was in the room watching them. Disapproving. Disappointed. And now the hologram of his father’s true protege stood before him, more a reflection of his father than he could ever be, regardless of blood. 

Spock rarely left his quarters on the transport ship that was taking him to Earth. He was spending much of his time in meditation, when that was possible. When it was not, he studied what he thought might be necessary to prepare for Starfleet Academy. He had already been in contact with administrators at the Academy who assured him that he could finish an accelerated program in two years, given that he had already completed advanced studies on Vulcan. His concerns were less academic and more social. 

He’d visited Earth before, to meet the family of his mother. They had not liked him, and they did not keep contact with him afterwards. He did not wish to repeat that situation when he went to Earth this time, even with strangers.

He had been reading the history of the city San Francisco when he received an alert he was receiving a holographic transmission. He paused for a moment before checking the source of the transmission. It was his mother’s signature.

Something twisted inside of him. She was the only person on Vulcan that he had regretted leaving behind. He was not prepared to see her face again, but he could not ignore her call. He took a deep breath and accepted the transmission.

The person who appeared in front of him was not his mother. He narrowed his eyes and straightened his back, immediately defensive.