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"Calm Before the Storm" by Lady Rainbow Rating: PG-13 for innuendo. Thanks, Pesterfield! :) Eleven “What’re you doin’, Nate?” Nate Kemper finished adjusting what looked like a black half-sphere, with three colored buttons on its top. For all Nate’s work, it didn’t look like it was doing much, but Trip knew better than to judge a book—or a Security invention—by its cover. Nate pulled him aside and said in a low voice, “Just making sure Matt’s ‘little device’ works.” “Device?” Trip asked. He pointedly didn’t look at it again, for he could feel some of the guests’ eyes on his back. Nate told him about the “present” from Harris. When he was finished, Trip looked at him skeptically. “That‘s why Matt took off for New York?” “Yep.” Nate made a final adjustment to the odd-looking black contraption that occupied an unobtrusive corner of the room. “Apparently, Harris wanted to pay back a few debts.” “Which one?” “Didn’t say.” Nate grinned and his hands snaked back to his uniform collar. The MACO uniform was different from Starfleet’s: a tailored green-brown vest and jacket, with white dress shirt, dark slacks and spit-polished shoes. The oak leaves of his rank still looked a bit crooked to Trip. “Excuse me, Nate,” Liz Cutler said mildly, “but your insignia’s as crooked as Lombard Street. Come here and let me fix it.” She looked stunning in a blue-green kimono that matched her eyes. He rolled his eyes, but allowed Liz to fix the oak leaves. Trip grinned and surveyed the room. The chapel was significantly smaller than the one in San Francisco, so both Michiko and Amanda had to trim the guest list significantly. A traditional Japanese wedding included only close family members, but Michiko had made a few accommodations. She eventually had to draw the line because the chapel could only hold so many people anyway. Instead, she diverted most of the well-wishers to the makeshift reception room at the hotel across the street. They still managed to squeeze in Hoshi’s and Matt’s families, Soval, T’Les, the senior staffs of both Enterprise and Columbia, and Admiral Forrest. To Trip’s surprise, sitting in the middle of the room were Captains Shran and Gral, with their respective mates. Trip recognized the graceful form of the Lady Jhamel, Shran’s wife, next to the Lady Commander Narrali. Both women seemed at ease with each other, while their husbands continued to glower and argue. Some things don’t change, Trip thought and chuckled to himself. Then he saw another familiar face sitting next to Shran. It took him an effort to keep a straight face. What the hell is she doin’ here?? Intellectually, he knew the reason: after all, she was Shran’s sister, and by extension, Matt’s and Hoshi’s “adopted” sister as well. It was only polite to invite the last remaining member of Shran’s blood clan. Lieutenant Talas met his gaze, her violet eyes to his blue. There was no anger in them, only cool appraisal. Her mouth twitched into a slight smile. Trip shivered and the thought popped unbidden into his head: Come into my parlor, said the spider to the fly... Colonel Amanda Hayes walked into the room and all eyes went toward her. Trip fancied she heard backbones snap all over the room, while the civilian contingent regarded her with mixed amusement and fear. “They’re coming,” she announced. “Places everyone.” Then she marched straight to Admiral Forrest and whispered something to him. Whatever she said made Forrest’s face turn scarlet and the admiral threw back his head and laughed. “Very well, Colonel. I shall make sure the good captain is duly chastised,” Forrest said with good humor. Trip, Nate, Travis and Jon took their places at the front of the room. “What’s going on?” Travis whispered to Trip. “The admiral looks ready to burst.” “I dunno...” Commander J.T. Daniels spoke up in a low tone, “Colonel Hayes has somehow convinced her son that Admiral Forrest is going to court-martial him for his little jaunt.” “Court martial him?” Trip repeated in horror. Daniels’s eyes sparkled with mirth, though his face was as deadpan as ever. “How else was she going to get him into his formals without him suspecting a thing?” All six best men glanced at each other, then started to laugh too. Trip caught Amanda Hayes’s expression of tolerant annoyance and that only made him laugh harder. Hoshi had gotten into the habit of roaming the halls every evening before dinner, just for a change of scenery. Matt usually pushed her around in an anti-grav chair, but this time Malcolm did the honors. Michiko and Hitomi preceded her, while Grace acted as rearguard. They stopped by the tiny Hydroponics lab, then made a wide circuit around the various floors. All the doctors and nurses greeted her like an old friend. Their smiles only served to deepen her suspicions. As usual, they went by T’Pol’s room. The Vulcan stepped out in a purple Vulcan-style robe, with a light veil over her elaborately braided crown. T’Les followed in a hunter-green robe of the same cut. Hoshi raised her eyebrows and swiveled her head to look at Malcolm. The slight smirk on the doctor’s face told her all she needed to know. And suddenly her heart dropped into her stomach. “Oh my—“ “Peace and long life,” Doctor T’Les said, as she split her fingers into the ta’al. “And may you and your bondmate find serenity and peace.” Her eyes filled at the traditional Vulcan wedding blessing. “Thank you, Doctor T’Les,” she whispered. She looked at Michiko, whose eyes shone with tears. “Mama—“ “Everyone’s waiting in the chapel, my dear,” Michiko said. “We don’t want to keep them waiting, do we?” Matt Hayes sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Well, there was no avoiding it now. It was time to face the music. He squared his shoulders and made his way across the street from his hotel to the hospital. Admiral Forrest had sent him a message saying that he would meet Matt in the main lobby, then they’d continue on to an undisclosed location “to discuss matters.” He saw Forrest as soon as he passed through the front doors. The young intern at the reception desk flashed him an encouraging smile. It made him feel marginally better. He snapped to attention in front of Forrest and saluted. “Sir,” he said, with more confidence than he felt. “Reporting as ordered.” Forrest nodded, his mouth in a thin line. “Do you understand why I’ve summoned you, Captain?” “Yes, sir.” “And are you prepared to face whatever lies ahead for you?” “Yes, sir.” “Very well, Captain Hayes. Follow me.” Forrest nodded to him and headed for the stairs, and Hayes followed a pace behind. Although Forrest was a master at hiding his emotions, and Matt was usually on target when gauging an enemy, Matt felt a jangle of conflicting feelings from Forrest. It was as if...well, if...Max was trying to be stern when he wanted to be otherwise. Stern, but amused at the same time, like... A father who’s hidden a Christmas present for his kid and who’s fit to burst with the secret, but knowing he can’t spill the beans till the right time. Suddenly, the nervousness evaporated and Matt couldn’t help the huge grin across his face. Damn, I’ve been had. Mom, I’m gonna get you back for this. “Sir?” “Captain?” “Where are we going?” Forrest glanced over his shoulder and saw that Hayes was smiling. The admiral realized the jig was up and laughed. “To face your future, Matt.” “Does Hoshi—“ “If she doesn’t yet, she’ll know in a few minutes.” Matt shook his head. “I’ll be damned.” “Don’t underestimate your officers, Matt, especially your armory and security officers. And your mother. And the family of your imminent mother-in-law. We all worked together, and I must admit, it turned out as well as the best special ops assignment I’ve ever seen.” They reached the floor where the chapel was located, and Matt’s eyes widened as he saw Hoshi there in the hall. She sat in an anti-grav chair, for she wasn’t strong enough to stand on her own yet, and seeing her so vulnerable sent a pang through his heart. Her mother, aunts and cousins fussed over her robe. It was nowhere as elaborate as the original wedding kimono she was supposed to wear, but she looked radiant. She wore a crown of baby’s breath in her hair and carried a bouquet of red roses in her lap. “For God’s sake, you aren’t supposed to see the bride before the wedding,” Liz Cutler whispered. He’d been so entranced by the sight; he hadn’t seen one of Hoshi’s bridesmaids approach him. “This way. She hasn’t spotted you yet.” He could only follow where she and Forrest steered him. When he entered through the chapel’s side entrance, he stopped so abruptly that the admiral ran into him. Forrest reached out to steady him, just as Trip Tucker appeared at his side. “Congratulations, Matt,” Trip said with a wink. “You made it to your own weddin’. We were gettin' kinda worried.” “Well, I thought I was going to be court-martialed,” Matt retorted with good humor. “You weren’t the only one worried. How’d you guys manage it?” “We had some help,” Travis Mayweather said in a modest tone. “Now, are you ready to get married? Because if you aren’t, I think we’re gonna have a mob on our hands.” Matt looked over at his crew and his friends, then to his mother sitting in the front row, her eyes shining. He smiled. “I’ve been ready for a long time. Let’s do this.” Despite all the elaborate preparations, it was the simplest and most touching wedding they’d ever seen. There was no formal procession; Liz Cutler, T’Pol, Grace Hikagawa, Michiko Sato and Hitomi Kanagawa took their places in silence. The entire audience stood as Hiroshi Sato proudly escorted his daughter down the aisle. Hoshi’s father stopped the anti-grav chair and helped Hoshi sit on the embroidered pillow in front of a low table. Hiroshi took her hand and placed it in Matt’s, then took his place in the front row. Jun Sato, resplendent in his Shinto priest robes, began the ceremony with little flourish. His trained voice carried to all corners of the room; no one said a word as he bestowed the formal blessings on the couple. Jun Sato’s eyes looked over the crowd, for he could feel the warm happiness in the room...except for one particular person. He hid his surprise well as he zeroed in on the source of ambivalent feelings. It originated from the last place he expected. Doctor Malcolm Reed, Hoshi Sato’s chief medical officer, stood next to the Vulcan delegates, beside Doctor T’Les and Ambassador Soval. Jun had heard much about the Englishman’s work on Vulcan and had been looking forward to conversing with the doctor. Of all people, he’d expected Reed to be joyful for Hoshi’s happiness. Instead, he felt a sense of loss, of resignation, of bittersweet joy. Empathy was Jun’s strongest ability; it served him well in his calling. Even as he said the traditional words, his heart went out to the Englishman. He loved Hoshi in his own quiet way, and now he was losing her to another. Jun doubted anyone else was aware of the man’s feelings, especially Hoshi herself. As he gazed deep into Reed’s blue-gray eyes, he acknowledged the bitter pain, and even more, respected Reed’s unspoken plea for secrecy and privacy. And Reed’s mouth turned up in the slightest of smiles. Thank you, he seemed to say. Jun Sato smiled back gently and nodded, then turned his attention back to the couple kneeling in front of him, and gave Reed the privacy the doctor needed. Hoshi chuckled as she saw the cups of saké on the low table. The tradition was called “san-san-kudo”: the ritual sipping of the saké, three sips from each cup, for a total of nine sips. Michiko had spilled one of the bowls on Hiroshi during their ceremony thirty years ago. To her relief, Hoshi’s own hands were steady and she made it through the ritual without incident, as did Matt. Then Michiko and Hiroshi sipped from the cups, and finally, Amanda Hayes, thus sealing the bond between both of their families. Jun Sato bowed to them, then gestured for Admiral Forrest to do his part of the ceremony. Matt got to his feet, and helped Hoshi to hers, but she waved off the anti-grav chair. She wanted to stand as well as she could for this; there was no way she wanted to be married sitting down in an anti-grav chair. Matt seemed to understand; he held her securely as she leaned in his arms. “We are gathered here today to witness the bonding of two dear friends: Hoshi Namiko Sato and Jeremiah Matthew Hayes,” Forrest began. “If there is anyone who objects that these two should wed, speak up now, or forever hold your peace.” There was silence, then Trip Tucker said loudly, “I think it’s a bit late to back out now, Captain Hayes.” Matt raised his eyebrows and sallied back, “I don’t think you’ve got to worry about that, Lieutenant Commander Tucker.” Laughter echoed throughout the chapel. Hoshi noticed the Vulcans didn’t laugh, and Malcolm only wore a slight smirk. The humor didn’t reach his eyes, though. Malcolm looks ready to fall asleep on his feet, she thought. Poor man. “Captain Hayes, please repeat after me...” Matt said his vows in a strong, sure voice. Then Hoshi did the same. She felt Matt’s arm tighten around her waist as she did. Then Liz and Trip stepped forward with the rings, and Matt placed his on Hoshi’s ring finger. Hoshi’s hands trembled as she put hers on Matt’s. He helped her do it, then squeezed her hand in reassurance. Admiral Forrest smiled as he finally concluded the ceremony. “I now pronounce you man and wife. Captain Hayes, you may kiss your wife.” Matt wasted no time, dipping Hoshi in his arms and kissing her. Trip, Nate and Travis started the applause and the cheers, but she didn’t hear it. As Matt lifted her back up, Trip glanced at the other groomsmen with a wicked expression, and counted silently to three. Then he, Trip, Nate, Travis, J.T. and Jon Archer all hollered at the same time, “ABOUT DAMN TIME!” And with that proclamation, Matt and Hoshi looked at each other and laughed in relief. |
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