605: The Final Verdict

by Keiran O'Sullivan
81024.17
Following Enough
-=Soundtrack: Lost! by Coldplay=-

-=/\=-

The innocent and the beautiful have no enemy but time.

~William Butler Yeats

-=/\=-

-=USS Serendipity=-

Keiran waited in the transporter room for the last three members of the Perseids crew to arrive.

He had asked, specifically, to beam down with them.

He had spoken to each of the rest before they'd gone, and they knew that their Captain would be close by; keeping a vigil of a most unique kind as they closed their eyes as one person and awoke again as someone else.

Before Ledbetter, Adams, and Gira Lassiter arrived he had one call he needed to make.

He asked the transporter operator to step out a moment, and tapped his badge.
"O'Sullivan to Cristiane,"

[Sir?] Dane was still in his quarters, having just finished showering and dressing after Gira had left.

"I heard an ugly rumor just now, boy. I heard that you took a certain young lady back to your quarters last night and she didn't emerge 'till mornin'. Tell me that I don't have to start my day by takin' ya apart a piece at a time."

[No! No sir, you don't-] Dane suddenly fought the urge to throw up.

"So you didn't take her back last night?"

[She was here, but-]

"I'm going to kill you."

[No! Sir! Ask her! We only talked. We played a board game, we ate pizza! I offered her the bed, she refused it and slept on the couch. She was nervous about today. That's all, I swear! I swear I didn't touch her. Sir, where are you?]

"Transporter room three, why?"

[I'll be right there. Cristiane out.]

"That brat did not just hang up on me." Keiran grumbled.

Moments later, Dane skidded to a stop in front of him. Keiran grabbed him by the front of his shirt, still unconvinced by his story.
"You've got ten seconds."

"She beat me by two hundred and twelve points! Ask her, she'll tell you."

"Beat you at what?"

"Scrabble. Sick little game. But she really likes it, so,"

Keiran released his hold of Dane's clothing. He knew too well that Scrabble was one of the girl's favorite pastimes.

"What did she have on her pizza?" He asked, with the combined intensity of a homocide detective on a case and the determination of a father trying to wring the truth out of his daughter's first date.

"Green pepper and onions. It was revolting."

"And what was her winnin' word, then?"

"QUIXOTRY! 365 freaking points!" Dane shouted, causing Keiran to wince at the volume of his voice. "Triple word score plus the fifty bonus points for using all her letters! She's a maniac!"

Keiran was, for the moment satisfied. "All right. You live to see another day. And to help me with a project that I've got going on."

"Project, SIr?"

"Yes." Keiran said, rubbing his hands together. "Project. But we'll discuss it later. Right now I've somewhere to go."

"Are you...going down there with them?" Dane asked softly. When Keiran didn't respond, Dane grabbed hold of his shoulders. "Sir, please, take me with you!"

"Cristiane, you're touchin' me," Keiran snarled, enjoying making Dane squirm far more than he'd ever admit.

"Sorry, sorry. Please, Sir. I was in the training program for two years, but I've never seen the place. Please, let me see it?"

Keiran hesitated. He had a feeling that Dane's interest in going had more to do with the young woman they'd been speaking of than any curiosity about how the headquarters for Temporal Investigtations might be decorated.

Still, he knew that Dane was now more set than ever on becoming a Jumper- and he thought that before he made his final decision he deserved to see what he was really getting into.

It was a chance that recruits usually didn't get- but one that Keiran had the authority to afford him. He couldn't deny Dane the experience.

"All right. But you just keep your eyes open and only speak when spoken to, mind? And if you leave my side for an instant without permission,"

"I won't. I swear."

"All right." Keiran tapped his badge. "O'Sullivan to Blane, I'll be takin' the whelp down to the planet with me, you'll have to put somebody else at communications this mornin'."

-=Hours later=-

Barely a word had been spoken between Keiran and the three last members of the Perseids crew to go in for their procedures.

He had shaken Ashton's hand, given Azalea a hug, and thanked them again for the gift that the crew had given him last night at the party. It was a gesture of thanks for his leadership during their journey, but more so, a way to ensure he would always remember what he meant to them; even if they couldn't.

That gift was a platinum pocket watch. Engraved upon the outside, his initials and the ship's name and registry; inside, three simple words:

Here and Now

That was the mantra that Jumpers were instructed to repeat to themselves whenever they had a moment where they were starting to lose their perspective, or their composure. A verbal talisman to remind them that no matter how much time they had traveled through and in what direction, the only thing they could influence in any way was the present moment in which they found themselves.

Finally he had watched as a pale and quiet Gira Lassiter had been escorted out. She hadn't said a thing. She had only smiled at him gently, and then she was gone.

It had been two hours since her procedure had begun, and there was no word. Being that it was her first time, it should only have taken half that long.

Keiran didn't have to say a thing to Dane to tell him that he was getting worried, his body language said it all.

-=Medical Wing; Procedure Room 29 beta=-

"She's coming around, Doctor," the nurse advised nervously.

"Let's hope the second attempt did the job," the Doctor mumbled. He did not want to have to be the one to tell the Admiral that things had not gone according to plan.

"You..." Gira mumbled, babbling with almost complete incoherence as people generally tended to do upon awakening from a resequencing procedure. "...you can't spell zephyr with two f's and an i, Cristiane," Gira was complaining, sounding like she'd had too much to drink.

They began to ask her detailed series of questions, and after a few minutes of receiving completely accurate, if slurred answers, they simply gave up.

It was not going to work.

"Damn." the doctor sighed, holding his index fingers over the bridge of his nose. His head pounded.

The people upstairs were not going to be happy about this.

Why was it that nobody Ensign called Steele could be wiped clean like a dry-erase board, but the Admiral's daughter retained every damn detail of her life, and the paradox?

"What now? Do we try again?" A second doctor asked, but the first shook his head.

"No. It's too dangerous." He took off his lab coat and threw it across the room. "I'd better go and tell her."

He reluctantly entered an adjacent waiting area where Gem Lassiter was pacing, anxious to hear an update on her daughter's condition.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry, Admiral. The second procedure, like the first, was a complete failure. She simply cannot be resequenced."

"I don't understand, anyone can be resequenced."

"Apparently not." The man said with a shake of his head. "I'm sorry to say it, but her career with this agency is over."

-=Down the hall=-

Dane paced, and he was making Keiran more nervous the faster he moved.

"Sit ye down, willya eh? You're makin' me crazy."

"Sorry, Sir." Dane was trying to process all he'd seen since he got here.

The building itself was immense, and amazing; but he found all he could think about was the girl who was lying still on a biobed in a room down the corridor.

The one who would not recall anything about him the moment she emerged from it.

They heard the door open and a moment later were surprised to see two very familiar faces staring back at them from the doorway.

"Ashton?" Keiran looked at Ledbetter, and the man nodded.

"Sir." Ashton gave a wry smile. "It's good to remember you. Though I am sad to report that apparently, I also remember Maris. Her alimony payment is due this Thursday."

Keiran was too emotional to react to the joke.

He had not dared to hope that any of the Perseids crew would remember him, but as he saw Azalea Adams walk in behind Ledbetter, he was astounded that at least two had.

Even if they only knew his name and face, it was more than he could have asked for.

Adams looked at him with dulled eyes, still a bit dazed.

"Captain O'Sullivan." She began slowly. "When they were doing the post-procedural examination, they showed me your picture," She tilted her head curiously. "I remembered your face, and I thought that," she shrugged.

"Yes?"

"I remembered the initials K.O."

Keiran smiled gently. "Aye," he felt a lump forming in his throat. "That'd be me, all right."

"They tell me we served together?"

"For quite some time, in fact. Is...there an'a'thing I can do to help you, Doctor?"

"I just wanted to see you," She said softly, tears filling her eyes when she realized that not all of her past work was lost in another resequencing. "I hope...that's all right."

He held his hand out to her, and she shook it slowly.

"'Tis more than all right," he whispered, "'tis a gift."

"Zanh Liis won't believe this," Dane gasped beneath his breath, causing Ledbetter to turn on him violently.

"Zanh Liis? Zanh LIIS!" His eyes flew open. "You serve with Zanh Liis?"

Dane glanced at Keiran as if asking permission to speak. Keiran nodded.

"She's my...captain..."

"God help you, you poor, dear boy." Ledbetter shuddered.

"Um, he's going to marry her..." Dane jerked his head in the direction of O'Sullivan, and Ledbetter's eyes were the image of stark terror.

"Dear God." he gulped, leaning against Dane and looking ready to swoon. "I think I'm going to faint."

"There was a girl that I remembered," Adams interrupted, leaning closer and whispering softly in Keiran's ear. "Do you know what happened to her? She has brown eyes, she's very young. I think she may have been a pilot."

"Gira?" he asked.

"That's her..."

"Don't know, Doctor, " Keiran said sadly, "Still waitin' to..."

Just then the doors flew open again, and a seething Gem Lassiter stood before them.

"Is she all right?" Dane blurted, unable to contain himself. "Is she hurt?"

"Oh, she's all right." Lassiter growled through clenched teeth. "And you, Captain O'Sullivan, will be overjoyed to know that she will never work for Temporal Investigations again."

"What?" Keiran strode up to her, "How do you mean?"

"It was a complete failure." Lassiter's eyes were glazed over with tears, more of anger than sadness. "She cannot be resequenced."

"She remembers..." Dane's mouth fell open.

"Everything. All of you." Lassiter barked, before turning back toward the door. "It's a nightmare."

"Glory be to the Father," Keiran prayed softly, crossing himself. "and to the Son,"

"What is going to happen to her now?" Dane stepped forward, ignoring Keiran's earlier warning not to speak unless spoken to first.

"She's finished. Starfleet won't put her anywhere that matters, not with those memories rattling around in her head and so little experience to manage them." Lassiter complained.

"But...what's going to happen to her?" Dane stressed the words, trying to get to Lassiter as a mother through the tough, military exterior.

"I don't know. She'll have to figure something out, Ensign."

"and to the Holy Spirit," Keiran continued to pray softly, head bowed slightly. "...as it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end..."

"I have to go. They're taking Vox out now-" Lassiter, in her agitated state, let slip information she had not meant to share with O'Sullivan.

Keiran's jaw dropped. "Whatdidyesay?"

"I said," Lassiter growled, "That Jonas is about to be taken out."

"You're tellin' me that Jonas Vox is in this very building? Right now?" Keiran thrust his shoulders back and locked eyes with Lassiter. "Everyone, if you'll excuse us a moment,"

The room quickly cleared. He folded his arms and stared through Lassiter, silently demanding an explanation as to why she didn't tell him sooner.

"I had to talk to him before they-"

"Where."

"Keiran,"

"Tell. Me. Where."

"Level ten, section beta, but,"

Keiran flew from the room.

Lassiter folded her arms and stared up at the ceiling, sighing. "...he's saying goodbye to his daughter."

-=/\=-

O'Sullivan moved as quickly as he could through the lifts and corridors, so darkened in this building they seemed more like underground tunnels than they did hallways.

He was so well known here he did not have to go through any of the usual security cross checks or stops between the medical wing and holding area. He was allowed access to all, and anyone who made their living in this building was aware of it.

His heart was pounding as he ran the final leg of his journey, and he asked himself what he'd say to Vox given the chance. What was there to say?

Then he realized that words were meaningless.

He only wanted to see Vox being taken out of the building in custody. To see the look on Vox' face when he realized Keiran knew that he was about to pay for all that he had done to him, to Liis, and most of all, to the crew of the USS Perseids.

Two Starfleet Intelligence agents stood sentry outside a door at the end of the last corridor, and Keiran knew that this had to be the room where Gira and Vox were.

Just as he was about to threaten to unscrew the head of the young outsider denying him admission, the door slid open.

Wiping tears from the corners of her eyes, Gira emerged.

She saw Keiran and, without thinking, rushed up to him and threw her arms around him. She felt more concern and paternal affection from the Irish Captain than she had ever, or would ever, feel from the man who had biologically fathered her.

Keiran patted her on the back. She released him as the two agents went into the room to bring Vox out.

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes, Sir. I'm afraid we have our orders."

Jonas Vox sighed and held out his hands. "Very well."

"We'll be going out the back way, Sir. No one will see you." One of the agents commented, knowing that Vox would suffer immeasurable disgrace should his former subordinates see him now.

Gira stepped aside, allowing Keiran a clear view of the door just as Vox was brought out.

Keiran's eyes narrowed, his chest still rising and falling rapidly from the speed with which he had run.

He consciously slowed his breathing, drawing air deeply in and out so that he would appear calm, clear, and determined.

Vox was staring down at the ground, and intent on not looking up again until he was out of this place and taking a long last look at open sky.

He wouldn't be seeing it again for six long months.

Then, he saw them: a familiar pair of boots, scuffed at the toe as ever.

His heart sank.

Incrementally, he raised his eyes.

They focused squarely on those of Keiran O'Sullivan.

O'Sullivan was, as Vox had been told, as alive as he was angry.

For Keiran's part though, it wasn't anger that was the dominant emotion of the moment.

Satisfaction won out, Keiran decided, and though no hint of a smile was detectable on his features, his countenance conveyed in one instant just how pleased he was to see Vox led away...in handcuffs.

Almost imperceptibly he nodded to Vox, and the man's face burned.

Vox inhaled sharply, betraying his reaction on a gut level.

Keiran experienced unspoken vindication in this small moment; the quiet culmination of judgment so long in coming.

The words of an old song that was very meaningful to him rang in his ears.

Gira stared at Vox as well.

He glanced over at her, then back at Keiran as Gira reached up, grasping for O'Sullivan's arm, asking silently for strength and support.

Keiran responded by putting his hand on her shoulder protectively as he continued to stare Vox down. His message was clear.

Jonas Vox had lost it all.

Keiran took some small comfort in the fact that Vox would have six months, at least, to live with that knowledge before his memory was wiped clean again.

Not a word was said. The only sound heard was the loud clang of a set of metal doors; banging as clearly as a judge's gavel to announce that the verdict was final.

-----------------------------
Keiran O'Sullivan
Formerly of Temporal Investigations