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Star Trek: Lilip

Chapter Five: The Defector

Summary: A supposed Romulan defector comes aboard the Enterprise, and Lilip ends up feeling a sense of kinship with the sharp-tongued alien.

Word Count: 5354

Author’s Note: Takes place Season 3, Episode 10. Y’all already know how the episode ends, but I’m still putting a warning for depictions of suicide regardless ok. This is a heavy one.

Act One

“Splendid, Data! Splendid!” Captain Picard let his hands clasp together in a brief applause. “You’re getting better and better!”

Data was in between two unknown humans, all three of them dressed in medieval garb. The one to the android’s left held a halberd. Spooked, the man tightened his grip on the pole and pointed the weapon at the captain.

Data held up his hand urgently. “Freeze program!” The two men that he was between froze in place. He and Captain Picard were in a forest. A campfire blazed through the night, then flickering flames now as unmoving as the men.

The android approached the captain, and Data let his cloak billow behind him majestically. “Thank you sir,” He said, “I plan to study the performances of Olivier, Branagh, Shapiro, and Kullnark.”

As Lilip crossed over a large rock to join the two, they let their eyes fall on the scene. They just happened to be passing by in one of the corridors when Data invited them to watch a performance. Captain Picard, though hesitant, allowed them to join, as he believed that classic human literature would help the young alien understand their peers better. According to the Captain, there was no better way of embracing the human condition than by the way of Shakespeare. Lilip wasn’t human though. In fact, neither was Data.

As Picard gave his lectures, critiques, and praises to the android, the comm system chirped its two tone sound. “Riker to Picard. Sorry to interrupt, sir.”

Here we go. Lilip thought. Holodeck fun always had to be interrupted by something or other.

Commander Riker continued after Picard gave his acknowledgement. “Sensors are picking up an unidentified craft in the Neutral Zone. It's heading for Federation space.”

“We’re on our way. Picard out.” The captain kept his eyes on Data. “We’ll get to the rest another time, Data.” He then turned to Lilip. “As for you, I advise you to return to quarters immediately. Perhaps you’ll have the time to study The Bard’s excellence.”

Lilip wanted to protest, but thought against it. The captain’s commanding aura was a little too intimidating to battle. They simply nodded as the trio exited the Holodeck. “What’s the Neutral Zone?” They asked when they thought it appropriate to add to the two men’s conversation.

Picard’s face cocked their way in surprise. “I’m amazed you don’t know.” He didn’t slow down his pace as he led himself, Data, and Lilip to the turbolift. “It’s a band of demilitarized space between the Federation and Romulan territories. Entry from either side is strictly forbidden.”

This only made Lilip conjure up more questions. “Why would they try to enter, then? And what if there are sapient species within the Zone?”

“While I admire your curiosity, I advise you not to concern yourself with that right now.” Picard raised his hand steadily, as if he could stop Lilip’s thoughts from intervening. “Please, I demand that you return to quarters.”

Lilip paused in their tracks just outside the lift. “Yes, sir…” They regretfully accepted. Their face perked up suddenly, placing their hands against the lift doors before they had the chance to close. They gave Picard a shy smile before turning to the second officer. “Data, we’re still hanging out later, right?”

“I do not plan to cancel our appointment,” Data confirmed, “I will inform you whether current events may change that.”

The captain gave Lilip a smile and nod before ordering the lift to take him and Data to the bridge. The doors whooshed shut, and Lilip was left alone.

As soon as Lilip found themself on Deck Nine, the red alert blared throughout the corridor. They hurried to their room, making it inside just as the red alert had cancelled. Confusion ripped through them with intensity, but they held themself back. A curious creature, Lilip couldn’t help but wonder.

Looking out their window, Lilip saw a green scoutship shaped like a bird type thing. They had never seen a ship quite like it before, and ogled at the sight. It looked very pretty with its beautiful metal wings and peridot color.

And then the scoutship exploded.

Lilip jumped back and accidentally clipped their heel against their coffee table. After a brief writhe around on the floor, the pain subsided, and Lilip glanced back out the window. Pieces of beautiful green metal floated aimlessly through space before disintegrating on their own. Quite the shame, it was, for they thought such craftsmanship should be preserved. Nevertheless, Lilip did as the captain ordered and stayed in their room.

After two hours of painful boredom, Lilip decided to browse through the most recent logs, hoping that there would be something interesting about this Neutral Zone situation. Their search proved fruitful, as several logs from those on the bridge recorded the presence of a Romulan that had come aboard. He apparently had defected from his government, seeking asylum in Federation space. Many of these logs voiced their suspicions and concerns, but Lilip–having no understanding of Romulan-Federation politics–believed these thoughts to be rubbish. How fascinating it would be to pull this lone alien into a conversation!

The red alert had been silent for a while, so it must be alright to exit quarters by now. Lilip traced careful steps as their door opened to the familiar corridors of home. They were about to step out when Commander Riker passed their room. He gave them a quick glance of acknowledgement before continuing on his way.

Lilip peeked to the left, where the commander had come from. Down the hall, just before it turned out of sight, a security officer was stationed in front of a door. Perfect, Lilip thought, as there was no doubt that those were the guest quarters housing the Romulan.

They crossed the way with confidence in each step. Unfortunately, such confidence began to wane as they neared the room of interest. Lilip wondered what they would say to the security officer at the door in order to be let in. They had to think fast, too, for the stretch was not that long.

The security officer cast an inquisitive glance their way as Lilip approached. “Need something?” They asked.

Lilip browsed their mind for a passable excuse. “I’m an exobiologist, and have been assigned to study the similarities between a Vulcan and a Romulan,” They lied, finally landing on something, “Now would be the perfect time to observe a Romulan, what with our guest on board, don’t you think?”

“Who gave you this assignment?” The officer asked, eyes leering into Lilip’s soul like twin phasers set to kill.

“The captain!” They blurted, Lilip not having a chance to think. A pressure in their chest gripped their heart as they continued to spout falsehoods, and Lilip had to force their face to remain steady.

Tutting, the security officer stayed where they were. “Do you honestly expect me to believe that Captain Picard ordered you to interview our Romulan captive?”

Heart sinking, Lilip was already ready to admit defeat. “Well, no,” They said as they began to deflate, “But… I myself still have much to learn. With my unbiased mind, I’d be perfect for getting information out of our friend, don’t you agree? No propagandized Federation brain would break through his exterior, unlike mine!” They tapped their head with a fist as if rapping at a door. “That’s why the captain assigned this task to me!” Knowing that baby-doll eyes were a winning bet, they let their pupils dilate to impressive size. The light from above the twosome shined beautifully into their eyes, accenting Lilip’s purple irises.

“I’m a little hurt that you think a Starfleet officer wouldn’t be able to break information out of a Romulan,” The officer replied, “Look, you don’t have to make up excuses to want to visit someone just because they’re being monitored by security. You’re not very good at lying.”

Busted… “Uh, right...”

“Just remember who’s got the phaser here. Behave yourself.” They stepped aside to give Lilip space to enter.

They did just that, and let the door chime ring. Upon hearing a quiet “Enter,” Lilip allowed themself in. In quarters that very nearly mirrored Lilip’s own, the Romulan sat atop a bed on the opposite wall where Lilip’s couch would be. His pronounced brow ridge in the shape of a V gave him an inherent sour expression, though it didn’t take Lilip much brain power to see that he genuinely was upset. His hair was in a classic Romulan bob with straight bangs, and he wore the usual gray clothing with heavy shoulder padding. His tail was thick, toned with muscle as all Romulan tails are, and a long tuft of fur at the end of the limb crawled along its underside.

The Romulan looked up to see his visitor, and his eyes flashed with intrigue. “Well, with that face, I suppose you’ve never seen a Romulan before?”

Suddenly aware of the guest’s hawk-like gaze, Lilip shifted their eyes to the floor.

Standing, the Romulan’s own eyes never left Lilip as he stalked towards them like a predator that had cornered its prey. “This is the part where you tell me, ‘No, I have never seen such a sublime being before, and am honored to bask in your excellence.’” His lips parted into a sinister smile, his eyes still showing the hunger of his curiosity. “And then I would respond, ‘And I have never seen quite the little mystery like yourself.’ And, of course, you’d divulge me with all your species’ little secrets. Isn’t that how this goes?”

Finally meeting his gaze, Lilip stood firm. “I have no secrets to give.” They stated plainly.

The small huff of a laugh escaped the Romulan’s nose. “Spare me your lies,” He sneered, “A strange, purple species suddenly makes an appearance, the only one of its kind revealed to us thus far, and you think to tell me you know nothing of your kin?”

“I don’t.” Lilip held their gaze, refusing to be beaten. “How would you know about me, anyway?”

“Please, you’re a household name at this point!” His words seemed insincere. Lilip knew he was lying.

A pause blanketed the room like a thick fog. Then, the Romulan started laughing. He raised an arm and gave Lilip’s shoulder a few hearty pats. “You’re an interesting little thing,” He said before taking a few steps back to admire Lilip’s stern expression, “Unfortunately, you’ll only get as much information out of me as I can from you. And, I’ve told your captain all he needs to know.”

“Well, I uh…” Lilip struggled to find their words after the Romulan’s little show. Their tail swished back and forth impatiently. “I’m not here to interrogate you. I’m an exobiologist, you see, and I thought that maybe—”

“—That maybe you’d squeeze out your little questions, cloaked in mindless curiosity, with words so innocent enough that I may indulge you with information that no Romulan worth his ship would be stupid enough to give!”

Lilip shrank away from the blistering tongue lashing. “N-no, I was just curious… th-thought that maybe you just needed some company to talk to… I mean, it would be nice to learn more about you, but you don’t have to! Not to me, anyway!”

“And I will tell them to no one, least of all to a Federation civilian!” That last word was spat with such scathing hatred, that Lilip once again shrank back as their eyes began to water, almost as if the words themselves burned their face. “You have no right to pity me, to think of me as a lonely little babe crying out for his mother! Do I seem so pathetic to you?!”

The opportunity to learn now having been squandered, Lilip let out a brief apology before leaving, pacing down the hall back to their quarters with brisk steps.

Act Two

Lilip twirled their fork until the pasta became a giant ball, stuffing it in their mouth as if they hadn’t eaten in weeks. Data cocked his head to the side, curiously observing them from the opposite seat at the table. While Lilip was gorging themself on plate after plate, the android had nothing on his end. He didn’t need to eat, after all, nor did he feel it necessary in this setting.

“I suppose that you would indeed need fuel in order for your guts to amplify your intuition.” Data stated as he observed his companion.

Lilip swallowed down their morsel and glanced up, confusion in their eyes. “Pfft… what?” While they had met up with Data at Ten Forward, the two indulging in conversation, this break from a sudden lull definitely made their head spin.

“I have had a most illuminating conversation with Geordi not long ago,” Data said, “He explained to me what it is like to have intuition… instinct. Perhaps it is more of an expression, but he mentioned how such a concept is a ‘gut feeling’. If one is to go with their guts, I would imagine that it would prove ineffective, should they be empty. Thus, keeping one’s hunger at bay would result in better intuition. Would this be a correct assumption?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Lilip chided lightly, “I’m as sheltered as a troglobite. My only intuition is insatiable curiosity.”

“Troglobite… Ah, the term for a species adapted exclusively to the depths of the underground, in caves beneath the biomes of the surface.” Data’s yellow eyes moved to and fro. “That is to say, you have little understanding of what was beyond your home. In this instance, you would not know what your guts tell you about the Romulan, Setal, as you have only just learned about his people not long ago.” Data glanced up, viewing someone that had just come through the door.

Lilip, while curious, didn’t wish to be obvious, and stared at the handsome android instead. “I suppose so,” They admitted, “I don’t understand everyone’s apprehension. I don’t exactly have context for that.” Lilip set their fork down, their belly finally telling them to stop. “What about you?”

Data continued to stare at the person that Lilip couldn’t see, who was now seated a table away. His head twitched. “As I have no guts to speak of, I am uncertain, myself. Meanwhile, I would be willing to provide you with information on the subject. Perhaps then your guts will grant you the intuition to judge accordingly.” His gaze never left the mysterious stranger.

However, Lilip had a feeling it was the Romulan guest. Curiosity itched at their brain, and they couldn’t help but turn their head to see who Data was looking at. As if he were taking a cue, it was Setal seated a few meters away with a drink in his hand. He took a small sip of his beverage, getting to know the flavor before scrunching his face in disgust and setting the glass down with disappointment. His tail punched itself against his seat, muscles rippling down the limb like waves of frustration.

Peeking up, Setal noticed Lilip and Data looking at him. Lilip immediately turned around to their front, warmth blooming throughout their face. Data, however, continued to stare. Lilip inwardly screamed, hoping the android would take the hint and remove his eyes from the guest.

“I take it you have never seen a Romulan before.” Setal surmised as he kept his gaze locked on Data.

Lilip, feeling a sense of déjà vu, wondered if he said such introductions to anyone that approached him.

“That would be an incorrect assumption.” Data replied, his hands folded neatly together on the table.

Setal continued to glare, eyes burning with annoyance. “Then why do you invade my privacy?”

“I was attempting to ascertain what my guts tell me about you.”

Lilip wanted to curl up into a ball and hide beneath the table from how obvious their company was being. The Romulan’s bruising words from before made them worry he would speak such things again.

There was a brief pause before Setal let out an entertained smile. He set down his glass and rose from his seat, taking intimidating steps towards the pair. “You’re the android.” He stated. His eye met with Lilip’s when they cast him an inquisitive glance. “The android and the little mystery, gathered together in a den of unfamiliar faces.” His eyes went back to Data. “I know a host of Romulan cyberneticists that would love to be this close to you.”

Data raised his brows briefly before scanning his positronic brain for a response, finally breaking eye contact. “I do not find that concept particularly appealing.”

Setal leaned in close, mischief painting his face with the colors of a threat. “Nor should you.” He returned to an upright posture and stepped away as he cast his eyes out the windows.

“I am told by various crew members that this viewport is their favorite on the ship.” Data said.

“It’s certainly mine.” Lilip added shyly.

Setal went from the window to Data, then Lilip, then back out into the vastness of space. “I thought it would bring me some comfort,” He hummed, “but these are not my stars. Even the heavens are denied me here…”

With a huff, he sat back down at his table and reached for his drink. He stopped when it was brought to his mouth before he set it down again in frustration. “Synthetic swill…” He once again let his eyes rest on Data and Lilip. “I don’t suppose your food terminals would be capable of producing a Romulan ale?”

Lilip perked up at the mention of alcohol. They had never thought to ask for such a thing, and wondered what such a beverage would taste like. Mouth watering, they could already imagine the infinite flavor profiles it could have.

However, Lilip’s desires were quickly terminated as Data answered. “I am afraid that would require the molecular structure of the beverage in question. And, as you are no doubt aware, our knowledge of your planet is quite limited.”

“The loss is yours.” Setal said pointedly, amused with Lilip’s shoulders going slack in disappointment. “I have visited over a hundred different worlds, and none possessed the awesome beauty of Romulus.”

Data was quick with his query. “Am I correct in assuming that you regret your decision to come here?”

“What I did had to be done.” Setal tensed up guardedly. “But… never again to see the firefalls at Gal Gath’thong… and the spires of my home as they rise above the Apnex Sea at dawn” He was almost wistful as he reminisced.

Lilip couldn’t help but have their heart tug Setal’s way. They, too, know what it’s like to have left everything he had ever known. They wanted to try and say some comforting words, but thought up nothing. Instead, they let their mind paint the beautiful picture described.

“It’s a bitter thing to be exiled from your own home,” He finished.

“It does appear unlikely you will ever be allowed to return to your planet.” Data commented.

Setal forced a disingenuous smile, his eyes haunted. “The cold reaction of an android.” He sighed and let his gaze once again return to the windows.

Lilip felt sick, not just from having eaten too much, but the feeling of discomfort that came from such a conversation ate at them. At least his home still exists. Lilip thought, though quickly shook their head to rid themself of it as it felt rather cold-hearted.

Data’s eyes once again went back and forth as he studied the interaction. Landing on a conclusion, he spoke in his calm tenor. “Perhaps we can bring Romulus to you.”

Both Setal and Lilip stared at the android, the two pairs of eyes flashing with interest.

Data had brought them to one of the ship’s Holodecks. Lilip thought it obvious that this was Data’s plan as he tapped away at the panel by the door, and wondered how they couldn’t make that conclusion while traipsing through the corridors. The idea of seeing the sights of another planet—although simulated—made their heart flutter.

“Program complete.” The computer’s voice chimed.

“Run program.” Data let the doors slide open, and gestured for Setal to enter alongside him.

Lilip took up the rear as the trio made their way inside. Instead of a small room, the Holodeck had created a vast, nighttime landscape. Two celestial bodies carried themselves across the starlit sky, and Lilip wondered if they were moons or planets, and how far away they were. A cloud passed overhead, casting the land in brief darkness.

On the surface, the trio were in a valley between rolling hills that dipped at a lake. Surrounding the waters were peaks of rock that must have been formed from ancient volcanic activity. The craggy towers speared the sky throughout the landscape.

Setal scanned the landscape with wonder, his tail curling upwards. “The Valley of Chula…” He gasped. He turned to his companions, eyes wide before once again returning to the valley. “I know it well.” His smile textured his tone lovingly.

“You are free to stay here as long as you wish.” Data gifted. He too looked around the landscape, and Lilip wondered if he could feel amazed at the sight of it all.

Setal’s lips slowly relaxed into his usual sour expression. “I no longer live here.” He motioned to Data. “Turn it off.”

“Cancel program.” Upon Data’s order, the valley disappeared and left the three of them in the empty room.

Setal stepped forward as he scanned the grid patterned walls. “This… this is my home now, my future. I have sacrificed everything. It must not be in vain.” His eyes returned to Lilip before resting them on Data. “Arrange a meeting between myself and Captain Picard.” He took a deep breath, exhaling as if all of his life was within the air released. “Tell him… Admiral Jarok wants to see him.”

Act Three

Due to the severity of the current situation, Lilip was not allowed any further involvement. Instead, they sat in their quarters, PADD in hand as they scoured through information on Federation-Romulan history. They were reading about the war between Earth and Romulus from the mid twenty-second century when a sight caught their eye.

Lilip looked out their viewport to see a giant, green ship appear out of nowhere just beyond the window’s line of sight. It looked much like Jarok’s scoutship but on a much grander scale. The wings curved around the sides, connecting in an oval shape that surrounded the body like a halo. Lilip had heard that Romulans had the technology to cloak their ships, but they had never seen such a thing up close. Their brain itched with questions as they stared out the window.

The Romulan ship fired a bright, yellow beam. It struck the Enterprise, the impact causing Lilip to cling tightly to their seat as the ship rocked. Several more rounds were shot into her hull as the Enterprise flinched from the onslaught. Terror bubbling inside of them, Lilip pressed their body to the floor, wrapping their tail around the legs of their coffee table for stability. Arms over the back of their head, they braced themself for more attacks.

They did not come, but the red light above Lilip’s front door flashed on and off with the klaxon alarm blaring its sound. It tore through their ears ferociously, but Lilip stayed put, their body tensed, expecting more heat.

When a minute or two had passed with no more shots, Lilip cautiously stood up. Still bracing themself, they slowly turned out the window to see the Romulan ship holding its position. Lilip pictured the ship to have a face scrunched up with hatred and impatience.

The only assumption they could make was that the Romulans had caught up with Admiral Jarok, and were now negotiating an outcome with Captain Picard. Lilip could picture it, the captain facing the viewscreen and defending his position, refusing to give up his Romulan guest at the hands of the empire he had fled from.

While fair and just, Lilip had a lingering thought that the captain would agree to an exchange after all. Their blood chilled as they continued to watch the ship, having developed a sense of kinship with Jarok. His life had been completely upended, much like their own. Jarok could never return home, and Lilip had no home to return to. They could see themself befriending the man, even.

So caught up in their own fantasies, Lilip had broken back to the present when they saw a Klingon Bird-of-Prey decloak next to the Enterprise. It faced the Romulan ship, and Lilip could imagine the Bird letting out an intimidating caw. With their heart pounding through their chest, Lilip watched on as the Romulan ship made a turn, vanishing in ripples as it put up its cloak once again. The Romulans had retreated.

Lilip went down the hall. A security officer was stationed at the door to Jarok’s quarters. He gave them a brief nod, letting them know that it was alright to enter. The little alien pressed the door chime. No answer. Lilip pressed it again. Then again, and again. Finally, a hasty “Enter!” mumbled through the door.

Lilip did as commanded, and stepped into Jarok’s room. The Romulan was sat on his bed, hair disheveled and back hunched over with haunted eyes staring sightlessly ahead.

Before Lilip had the chance to speak, Jarok murmured, “It was all for nothing. The information, falsified… Just a test of my loyalty to the Empire… A test I had failed.” He hissed through his teeth. “I’ll never see my daughter… ever again… and for what?” His tail thumped against the mattress with seething anger.

Lilip approached haphazardly. They reached out an arm to comfortingly place on Jarok’s shoulder, but he struck their hand with his own.

Rising from his seat, Jarok towered over Lilip with a scowl so vicious that they could only think of cowering. “Do not dare try to comfort me with your small words! You have no idea the extent of what has happened!”

“I can try if you let me understand,” Lilip whispered, “I… I lost my home, too. I can’t go back either.”

Jarok let out a scoff. “The little mystery thinks she can relate to me!” He branched out his arms as if addressing a crowd before once again towering over Lilip. “Spare me your sympathies! You have lost everything, yes, but you have lost it all! Your family, friends, home itself is nothing more than a statistic now! But I…” His voice quieted down as the anger evaporated from his eyes, only to be replaced by grief. “I will forever be remembered by my people as a traitor. I will live on in my daughter’s memories as a man so twisted that he’d betray her trust and love for a pathetic excuse of a Federation. You will never live with the fact that your own home will resent you until the end of time. Know how… lucky you are… to have that closure.”

His words stung with such potent venom, but Lilip refused to back down. “But, your people and your home will live on. Perhaps you should know how lucky you are to have that!” Lilip kept a firm gaze as their heart beat faster. “You and me, we still share the fact that we have nowhere to go. I don’t know anyone else who’s gone through what you or I have. I thought I was alone, but here you are.”

“What are you even trying to say?”

“I’m saying…” Lilip took a breath. “You and I both could use a friend. Why not each other?”

Jarok said nothing, but nodded in understanding. Turning, he paced around until he stopped by his own window. He looked out into the vastness of unknown stars, contemplating. “Your name… Lilip, was it?”

“Yes.” A light glimmered in their eyes, casting a rainbow within the waters of hope.

“Well, Lilip, I may ask something of you.” He turned to face them, his tail drooping behind him. He plucked an orange wafer from his pocket. After examining it for a moment, he placed it on his tongue and let it dissolve.

“What’s that?” Lilip approached, curious as to what that item was.

Jarok sat himself down on his mattress. “Let that Doctor of yours know that… Admiral Jarok has died.”

“What?!” Panic flashed through Lilip. “What do you mean? What was that?!”

Jarok said nothing as he laid on his back, crossing his hands over his stomach and closing his eyes.

Lilip ran over to him and pressed their palms on his arms. “But you can start over, you can stay here with me! Please, don’t let it end like this!” They shook the Romulan fretfully.

“Leave me now. Let me be at peace.” Admiral Jarok let out his last breath before going limp. Whatever he had ingested took quick effect. Of his own hand, he was dead.

Lilip continued to shake the Admiral’s body to no avail. Adrenaline coursed through them as the dam of panic burst and flooded their systems. They stumbled as they looked around the room, but found their way out the door to the rest of the deck.

The security officer leapt back in surprise at Lilip’s frightened state. He placed delicate hands over their back when they clung to him with a bruising grip.

“Something’s wrong!” Lilip cried as they burrowed their face into the officer’s torso. “He ate something and now he’s not moving!”

The officer let Lilip go and made his way into the room. When he saw the Admiral laying motionless in bed, he pressed his combadge urgently. “I need a med team down here now!”

Lilip hung back, their mind going blank as everything became static.

Lilip’s Personal Log, Stardate 43465.5 (June 19th, 2366; 9:46 pm). This conflict with the Romulans has been resolved… I suppose. But, at what cost? He wasn’t very kind to me, but I thought that that could change. Now, there’s no chance to find out.

I never expected such a threatening display today… the ship getting fired at, and all. And now… whenever I see Admiral Jarok in my mind, I can only see his last moments as they played out right in front of me.

Lilip was in Data’s quarters, sat upon a small couch against the wall. Spot hopped up onto the cushions and kneaded her paws into Lilip’s legs. Her golden fur was like a ray of sunshine, so captivating yet mocking of the tone. Regardless, fingers combed their way through the cat’s fur and Spot began to purr with satisfaction.

Wondering if Spot’s purring could be picked up, Lilip sighed. “Computer, end and delete log.”

A chime sounded, signaling that the command was followed. Lilip pressed the back of their head against the couch as the scene played over and over again in their mind. They closed their eyes tightly, as if that would blind them to the memory. A rogue tear found its way down their cheek, sponging itself into Lilip’s facial hair.

There was no two-tone song as the door opened, which made sense as Data walked into his own quarters. He was closely followed by Captain Picard, who’s eyes softened when they met Lilip’s. The two men sat down, Data on the couch with Lilip and Spot, and Picard in a chair against the other wall.

The captain leaned forward with his elbows against his legs. “I hope you understand the reason for this talk.” His voice was soft, almost fatherly in a way.

Lilip nodded wordlessly. They adjusted their seating, causing Spot to hop down and saunter off to a cat tree in the corner. Leaning into Data, who wrapped his arm around theirs in return, Lilip knew all too well that a statement must be made, as they were the last person to see the Admiral alive. They looked into Captain Picard’s eyes, taking a breath as they opened their mouth to begin.

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