(Standard Year 2251)
Return to Valjiir Stories
Return to Valjiir Continum
Lieutenant Commander Jeremy Paget tore off his red shirt and collapsed on the bed in his cabin on the U.S.S. Hood. It was late, nearly 0200, and he’d only been back from his stint as special protection for Noel DelMonde at the SanFran Shipyards for a little over a week; but as Security Chief he'd had to see to the discipline of the two men who'd been brawling in the Mess. A lover's quarrel - or more accurately an ex-lover's quarrel. Reed and Nogosuke, neither of whom could stand to see the other with their respective new infatuations, had made their grievances public and violent. Jeremy had told them both to grow up and ordered them to inventory the shuttlecraft equipment. Manually. He had, of course, stayed at the hangar control booth to oversee them - unbeknownst to them. He'd had to make sure they didn't kill each other. He'd also wanted to see if his idea would work.
It had. After a few shoving matches and verbal battles, Reed and Nogosuke had started talking, getting their anger out and their hurts aired, explaining, apologizing – and finally admitting their love was still there, even if a bit volatile. They had agreed to try again, this time taking things a bit more slowly. Jeremy left at the embrace that, despite their words, wasn't taking anything slow.
How fortunate for them, he thought, having a section chief who’s also a closet psychiatrist.
It took only a few moments for him to deal with his other reaction: the one that was neither Security Chief's nor Doctor's, but simply Jeremy's. Reed was Ter-African, Nogosuke Japanese. That simple fact brought memories that were bittersweet: of himself and Sulu. It was something he tried not to think about. At least not 24 hours a day. He had always loved Sulu - would always - but he accepted that Sulu loved him only as a friend. He accepted that Sulu gave to Jilla the devotion Jeremy wanted for himself. He was genuinely happy that Sulu was happy - but that didn't make his own lost hopes hurt any less. Seeing Reed and Nogosuke made the pain of those lost hopes temporarily more immediate.
Jeremy swore and sat up, using his surge of emotion to yank off his boots and throw them across the room. They hit the bulkhead with a satisfying double thud. He stood to remove the rest of his uniform, glancing casually about his cabin.
The message light on his comm was lit.
Mail! Hot damn!
He quickly entered his I.D. code to activate the tape scanner. He'd been so busy with Reed and Nogosuke he hadn't checked with Communications. There were three tapes: one from Barak at Cameron Intergalactic, one from his mother (when you gonna get married and stop this foolishness), and one from the Enterprise.
Sulu.
"I don't need this tonight, Kam," Paget said aloud, but he called up Sulu's tape first.
Origination: U.S.S.Enterprise
NCC 1701
Exec. Office
Cmdr. T.Sulu - -3419098/CMO
Terminus: U.S.S Hood
NCC 1707
Security and Operations
Lt. Cmdr. J.M.Paget - P-4038751/SEC
Something very bizarre has happened here, Jer. I won't go Into the details - hell, I don't even know the details - but for the past twenty-some-odd hours, Jilla and Ruth have been combined into a single woman: Jith Valjiir. Some name, huh? I suppose Ruth did it to save them both when the mind-sifter they were trying to examine blew up on them. Anyway, Jith Insisted that she was my wife AND Spock's. She didn't remember being a separate Ruth and Jilla at all. She said she was always Jith. And she expected us to act as if that were the truth. Let me tell you, it wasn't easy. It's no fun being in a rivalry with a Vulcan... I know, I know. You're gonna tell me I've been in one for years. But it's different when the Vulcan is alive and breathing and HERE and your captain to boot.
Jith was beautiful. Not Antari unapproachable beauty, and not Indiian innocent beauty. Just - beautiful. Ordinary beautiful. Maybe I mean Terran beautiful, I don't know. You know I'm hardly a xenophobe. There was just something so - reachable - about her. She was taller than Jilla but shorter than Ruth. Her hair was strawberry blonde. She had Jilla's full mouth and sensual body, and Ruth's special smile and teasing eyes and willowy grace. She accepted her damnation in a way Jilla never has. She was understanding about her ability to scare us poor non-telepaths to death in a way that Ruth never was. She had all of Jilla's sweetness and devotion and all of Ruth's fire and aggressiveness.
Tell me, Jer; how could I help but love her?
Anyway, Spock and I couldn't agree whether she was BOTH Ruth and Jilla, or neither (guess which was my position). Jith as an entity wasn't at all stable - we knew that almost right from the start. All we could do was hope that when she disintegrated, she'd disintegrate back into Ruth and Jilla. I wanted to wait and let it happen if/when it happened. You see, Jer, she was all of Jilla I had. If she deformed into nothing.... where did that leave me? Spock was equally adamant that she should be forced to de-form as soon as possible. He couldn't share her, so Ruth was lost to him either way. In the end, he won (I know, I shouldn't think of it that way, and I don't, really. It's just a convenient word). We fought over her and the strain forced her to disintegrate. Ruth and Jilla are both fine and everything's back to normal.
Except the way I feel. Jith was real, even if only for a few hours. I loved her: the Jilla part of her and the Ruth part of her, yes; but I loved her, Jith, for what she was. I loved the combination, and there's a part of me (I don't know how large) that actually preferred her. She was so easy... She was everything I've ever wanted. She was Jilla without the guilt, Ruth without the rejection. In fact the only thing she wasn't was you (small joke). And now she's gone. I'll never see her again, except for half-flashes from Ruth or Jilla. She's GONE!
And the real bitch of it is I can't even mourn her. How could I do that? What would I tell Jilla? Who would understand if I told them? Not Spock. He didn't want her. Not Ruth. She won't discuss it. McCoy would lecture me about hurting Jilla. Everyone else would say 'LiLing'. But it's not like that, Jer. I couldn't've loved Jith without my love for Jilla. We (I mean Jith and I) were as bonded as Jilla and I are. So what can I do? How do I mourn? The sum was so much greater than the parts.... Not that I can't be more than content with the part I've got. I am. It's just that...I loved Jith and I have to acknowledge that loss to somebody.
As usual, you're elected.
So next time I see you, bear with me while I get drunk/stoned/wasted and terribly maudlin; pat my hand, then kick my ass and tell me to appreciate what I got.
Is it a date?
Love you, Jer.
Sulu
Jeremy drew a ragged breath as the tape finished. There wasn't anything he could do, he knew that - and God, that 'small joke' hurt! Other than listen, be there... And, of course, keep the 'date'. He knew how Sulu felt. How do you mourn something or someone when that mourning would hurt the one you love most?
Yeah, he reflected. I know that feeling real well. After all, I've never mourned you, have I, Kam? Maybe it would help you to know that I do know how you feel - except I can't ever tell you. I can't mourn you, Sulu, because doing so would hurt you. And if there's one thing I'll never do, it's hurt you with the fact that I love you and you don't love me. Fuck. Where’s a closet psychiatrist when l need one?
Jeremy closed his eyes for a measured sixty seconds. He swallowed the pain, put in a tapedisc to record Sulu's message as well as the others. Then he silently turned out the light.
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