Three Part Fiction 2/3
Second part of 3
Check Yes or No
Prompt:"All the knowledge in the universe won't make you happy." / The next round of mid-term report cards. Goddard gets one and writes one up for Davenport.
Rating: PG
Category: general, life after, some D/G
Characters: Goddard, Davenport,
Summary: Part 2 of 3. Goddard adjusts to retirement, ponders the future, and Davenport sends her final report.
Sunlight peaked through the barely parted curtains of Seth Goddard's bedroom window, yet he remained curled beneath the blankets, watching as specs of dust became golden fireflies dancing along the warm beam. It reminded him of a childhood, long ago. The UPP had spared no expense in creating his home. They had managed to combine perfectly the old feel of the two story farm house his grandparents had grown and lived in, that he had visited infrequently as a child, with the latest technology of the era so he would not be as secluded as the property sometimes felt.
The house sat along an abandoned dirt road, surrounded by forest and field for miles in all directions. Standing like a white, wooden and (hidden) steel monolith in what was left of Earth's North American wilderness. After all the years in the cold void of space, Goddard had warmed up quickly to his arrangement. Punishment, indeed, he smirked. The Admiral had said to him after the trial, that even though they had no intention of actually punishing him for his past indiscretions in any traditional matter, they observed a compelling piece of evidence that enticed them to actually mix punishment with reward. He, of course, would not share the evidence with Seth. When questioned further, the only comment the Admiral made was, “It seems you melted the ice... And that is a feet worthy of reward.”
The sound of click-clacking paws against the floorboards gradually approached his room. The door was nudged open further, and the dusty fireflies were parted as a ruddy chocolate dog approached the bedside. The shaggy cross between Labrador and hound stopped just short of Seth's out-turned face and quite happily began to pant, washing his face in thick, foul breath. Goddard had purchased the mutt from a small shelter a short time after his arrival on Earth. Upon spending a whole week in the house, though he was enjoying himself, he had become tired of fighting moments of loneliness.
The dog placed her big paws on the edge of the bed and leaned in to lick Seth's face. Goddard gave the dog a hard shove and sat up, it was time to start the day. As he made his way out of the bed and across the room, Seth took the time to spread open each window curtain, dousing the space in a wash of hot, golden murk. Though the house temperature was regulated closely, the late summer heat was undeniable and seemed to scratch at the window pains. The dog padded alongside him as he entered the hallway and descended the stairwell.
“Coffee,” Goddard called out as he reached the bottom step. A buzzing drifted down the hall from the kitchen as an assortment of machinery kicked on. The dog stopped at the front door, muzzle nearly buried in the crevice near the handle. Goddard smiled at her, “Go on Thelma...” A switch clicked and the door swung open, the dog disappearing through the space, and then the door closed itself behind her. A pang of nostalgia pricked him in the chest. He knew the android of the dog's namesake was long dismantled by the UPP lab rats. Scavenged away for the greater good.
He continued to his left around the stairwell and two doors later he entered the kitchen. A small table stood in the corner by a large window. To his left was a long counter top and cabinets that lined the wall. On the end, a fresh mug of coffee, cream only, sat waiting for him. As Goddard grabbed the mug and sat at the table he looked at the wall cornered near the window and said, “Screen on. New mail.”
The wall dissolved into a screen with various highlighted subjects, some blinked red in an urgent way. Goddard ignored them, pointedly, and said, “News,” and took a sip of coffee. The wall dissolved to black again, and then pixels reformed into an image of a very impressive doctored photo of himself and TJ Davenport taking a stroll along some tropical beach. Droplets of coffee flew across the table as he sputtered.
“... seen here, enjoying a secluded romantic rendezvous, Captain Seth Goddard and TJ Davenport seem to be having a wonderful time so soon after the stresses of a ten year ordeal in space. Reports have stated hand holding wasn't the only thing on their vacation agenda...” the image here zoomed in on Davenport's hand clasped in his, as she appeared to gently pull him along the shoreline. “... it's nice to see these two, the most talked about couple in the sol system, having a chance to truly connect...”
“Mute.”
Goddard frowned through the pounding of his heart. He squinted at the enhanced image, confirming his suspicion that the original image had been taken during one of the extravagant balls thrown in his crew's honor. If his memory served him correctly, the actual moment had been captured when TJ had grouchily snagged him by the hand and unceremoniously dragged him across the dance floor to converse with some very important ambassadors, all the while Goddard had complained that he just wanted to finish his drink.
Since Harlan's television interview, and subsequent tell-all moment, the paparazzi and news was glued to the relationship Davenport and himself may or may not be indulging in. Tabloids, inner pages, sometimes even front pages, declared various false facts concerning his private life. Now that the war was over, people were once again interested in the mundane, once again entranced in the rumor mongering of celebrities.
Goddard scoffed a little and drank more coffee. It was an unnatural thought, me, a celebrity. He was suddenly very grateful for the well kept location of his new home. Let them make up the stories, he thought, I can play the role of a prince charming with out lifting a finger. It's their fairy tale, not mine. The notion of him being turned into some over the top night in shining armor amused Goddard and he broke out into a laugh, followed by a crooked grin that lingered over his features. From where he sat, he did not have to participate in the silly game, just sit back and watch what happened in his life with out actually doing anything.
The mirth he experienced was wiped clear of his features as the image on screen shifted to a harassed looking TJ Davenport. As she tried to walk down a corridor in what Goddard assumed was the UPP main port, the bright lights and flashing of cameras dumped upon her. In one arm she clutched tightly a stack of plastic translucent reports and a compupad, her other arm was brought up in front of her eyes, trying to block out the ferocity of the bulbs.
“Unmute.”
“... what? What are you talking abo-” her accent thick with confusion, she tried to escape farther down the hallway.
“Where's your next date?!”
“Are you two in love?!”
“How was Hawaii this time of year?!”
“-- don't know what you're talking--”
“Don't be shy! Tell us!”
“-- a lot of work to do-- I must be going --”
And then she slipped into a room as the cameras nearly ran into the door. The sound of loud questions still filled the kitchen as the reporters knocked on the door. Goddard's gaze drifted down to his mug, steam still rising from with in, and then settled his stare out the window. The lush green grass reflected the early morning sunlight. A small breeze shifted the leaves on the trees at the edge of the side yard. As if sensing his need, the screen shifted back to the list of mailings waiting to be opened. Thelma raced past Goddard's view, chasing a leaf that had colored and fallen from a tree prematurely, but he looked right through her.
Life had become so normal aboard the Christa, everything flowed in its own way. He and Miss Davenport had even begun sharing a sense of normality. They fought less than in the beginning, an unspoken understanding had long ago been reached between them. For some time during the journey, Seth Goddard and TJ Davenport had grown into each other, had grown to actually enjoy each other. We were almost... close, Goddard mused sadly. Whatever had started between them had somehow vanished the moment they set foot on UPP territory. Seth felt regret begin to stir in his chest, but pushed it down again and focused on the mail in front of him.
The first five mailings were from Harlan. All of which were at least five minutes of him apologizing over and over. Goddard deleted them with out opening any for more than five seconds. There were a few new mailings after that concerning various projects to make the assimilation of the Spung race go smoother. Radu stressed that Goddard's input would greatly be appreciated in the matters. Seth spent the better part of an hour contributing and replying to these. The process left him feeling accomplished. It was always rewarding to know that he was still valued, and that even though he had been sent away from all of the action as punishment, he could still be apart of it all.
A memory suddenly dropped, uninvited, into his mind:
Miss Davenport, the truth is, you wouldn't want your old job back... After an adventure like this? You would go nuts stuck behind a desk...
Goddard knew she had been offered the position of all the sorting, reporting, debriefing, and more or less making an accurate historical record of all that had occurred during their ten year trip. Clearly, she had taken it. Goddard also knew that despite the woman's zeal for writing dry, clinical reports, there was also another side to her that she was most likely in the process of smothering by taking up the historical torch. He pitied her, and suddenly found himself angry that he was enjoying his new life so much, while TJ was still nose to the grind... And I'm sure the reporters hounding her aren't a big help. Seth felt a pang of guilt for not doing more to dispel the rumors about them. It was causing someone he cared for a great deal, stress and probably a whole slew of other unpleasant emotions.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a new message blinked to life on the screen.
Sender: Lt. Theresa James Davenport
Subject: Final Debrief of Christa and Final Term Report Cards
Seth let the text before him blink several times before he cautiously uttered, “Open.” He got up and retrieved his second mug of coffee that already waited for him on the counter. An automated voice read the name of the sender and subject out loud.
When Seth turned back around he was struck into stillness. Taking up the better part of his kitchen wall was an image of TJ Davenport sitting in uniform and looking slightly nervous. Except for the look of mild terror written in her eyes and along some of the new lines on her face, she seemed, as always: professional, clean cut, and impassive. She was always considered pretty by his standards, and perhaps it was the two months he had spent not seeing her, but a thought rushed rudely into his mind, she's beautiful. Suddenly, her voice filled the space around him. A heaviness entered Seth's chest and he slumped into the chair once again, letting the brisk British accent invade his senses. His eyes slid shut as he listened to her calmly go over a brief summary of what her message would contain.
When she was finished with her introduction an awkward pause filled the recording, and Goddard opened his eyes again. TJ still sat stiffly before the camera, but her eyes had wandered off to the side. She inhaled deeply before adding, “And I hope that this final recounting of our journey finds all the recipients in good spirits...” a hint of a smile edged at her lips, “I hope you're all doing well.”
She then began to re-tell the history of the Christa, how her unlikely crew was formed, and then passing between an unbiased, third person voice, and an experienced storyteller, she told of their journey. All ten years of it, in surprising accurate detail. Goddard allowed the hours to slip away, only leaving the area to relieve himself and to make himself food. The rest of the day was spent sitting at his kitchen table, sharing in the nostalgia. Many times he found himself smiling or laughing as memories were freshened within him. As the report went on, Davenport too became occasionally distracted, lingering longer than professionally necessary on a certain moment or situation. Goddard found himself making odd commentary during her account. He caught himself several times having a one sided argument with the woman on the screen. Well, at least that much hasn't changed.
Near the conclusion, Thelma appeared next to Goddard's leg, causing him to jump. Apparently, the house had finally taken pity on her and let the dog back indoors of it's own volition. As Seth produced her bowl of food and water, Davenport's voice changed from her clinical discussion into a softer tone. Over Thelma's enthusiastic crunching, Goddard heard her say, “... had we known how important or journey was going to end up to the UPP, and all solar systems, perhaps we would have done things a bit different... But, then again, perhaps it would not have had such a happy ending.” She paused here and looked around at whatever objects were contained in the room she sat. Her lips pressed together tightly and her breath came in sharply. Goddard recognized this immediately, she wants to say something more, probably something personal. Instead, she blinked several times, released the breath and returned her gaze to the camera.
“Now, as I was asked to do, I will now give my final report on each of the crew members, of their performance and my recommendations for their future pursuits.” And then, Davenport went on to give exactly that. Though her reports were less critical than the midterm reports she had handed out just before the doppelganger had shown up on the ship. Goddard grimaced visibly but continued to listen.
“... and in conclusion, I would like to broach the topic of Seth Goddard,” during her pause Seth's neck hairs stood up and he grunted at her through the screen, “Commander Seth Goddard, though admittedly, previously thought to be the worst possible teacher in the galaxy, did... exceptionally well. At the time of this report, his trial is still two days away. I would like to submit the following as testimonial toward the outcome of his sentence...” She paused again, this time forgetting herself and softly biting the corner of her lower lip.
Something inside Goddard tightened.
“When I first encountered Commander Goddard, it was on his arrival at Star Academy. He was not in proper uniform, nor did he address any of the current staff with any sort of respect. He was... insubordinate, smug, and completely consumed by his own ego...” she finished the sentence with a furious blush and irritation in her voice. Goddard slammed his mug on the counter and opened his mouth to protest, and then remembered she could not hear him.
“During the time I spent observing him at Star Academy, not much of these traits seemed to change. Indeed, The Commander seemed only occupied with counting down the days he had left. His disregard for the teaching setting was unsettling to say the least. I did not believe he would be properly reassigned, when his time was up, as I could not attest to his lesson learned. I'm sure if he knew that I was the one responsible for his review, he may have treated me differently. But as it stands, he treated me with the same offhanded annoyance he handed to his students.” Goddard swallowed hard at the revelation.
“I followed him onto the Christa that fateful morning because of my concern for the students. Once I finally comprehended our situation, I will admit freely that I was concerned for all of our lives knowing that this man was whom we must turn to. In fact, it rather terrified me...” Davenport looked down at her hands momentarily, then the lines on her face smoothed and she glanced back up.
“However, over the next ten years I continued to observe Commander Seth Goddard. It didn't happen over night, but I, as well as the students, became aware of who he really is. Soon, we were all able to notice the style and grace he possesses as a leader, those certain qualities few of us have, and even fewer of us are able to control and wield. Much to my horror, Seth Goddard would inevitably place himself between us and danger. I shrink to imagine what the journey may have been if something had taken him from me- I - us... In his own way, he taught the students discipline, courage, intelligent decision making, and above all, compassion. He is a brave man with an exceptional ability to lead and care for those charged to him... It is my opinion that... without Commander Seth Goddard, we would not have made it home. We would have been no safer with any other soldier in the UPP ranks.” Davenport stopped there, then allowed her features to harden as she concluded, “If this man is to be tried for his past actions, then, it is my opinion that he has already, over the course of this journey, more than 'done his time.'” Goddard could not help smiling at her air quotes.
“Commander Seth Goddard should not be judged on the events of the past, but rather, I implore you to look at how far he has come and recognize who he has become... He does not deserve punishment, but rather, I believe... The crew of the Christa believes... He should be rewarded... or at the very least... forgiven.”
It was clear that she had run out of steam. Davenport's features were tired now and she could not keep the look of concern from crossing her face. She wrung out her hands a few times, tucked a stray hair behind her ear, smoothed her pants out, and then the recording ended. When the screen was completely black, Goddard shifted his eyes to the window. The sun was already below the horizon, stars were now visible as the sky continued to darken. Seth looked down at Thelma, who returned the stare. Her eyes soft and deep, full of patience and unconditional obedience.
“This...” he waved his hand around toward the house, “is all because of her... You realize that right?”
Thelma cocked her head, but kept her level gaze.
“Don't you get it? THIS was the piece of evidence the council was referring to...” Goddard began to pace the kitchen floor. Emotions fought tooth and nail within him as he stalked back and forth. Thelma's head followed him for several minutes, before she laid down on the tile, exhausted from his efforts.
Here I am, enjoying all of this, when it is all because of a few kind words from this woman. I get all of this and what has she been given? Hell, I don't even know... I don't even know what sort of life she's been living... what sort of life they gave her on our return.
He stopped and looked down at Thelma, who didn't move her head, but glanced up with her eyes. “The truth is... I couldn't have gone these past ten years with out her... She is as much responsible for our success as I am.” Thelma ruffed softly in agreement.
She deserves better... If she really was the deciding factor in that trial... She deserves more.
The image of TJ Davenport being hassled by camera's and her weathered features struck him hard; he felt slapped. Guilt washed over him anew. Thelma ruffed louder, this time picking her head off her paws.
Goddard scratched his fast approaching five o'clock shadow and said, “You're right... I've got to do something... for her.”
Thelma got up and began to wander out of the kitchen, Goddard followed her, still deep in thought. Thelma lead him through the first floor hallway along the stairs, and then into the living room, where she jumped up onto a small couch positioned in front of a large bay window. Just outside the window Goddard half noticed the view of the front porch, complete with swinging love seat, and then to the long expanse of the front lawn.
He suddenly felt isolated and alone in the big house. It appeared very large to him. All this room for just one person and a dog struck him as absurd.
Thelma wagged her tail and it thumped dully against the cushions. Goddard grinned from ear to ear. Thelma opened her jaw wide and began to pant, giving the appearance of a large grin.
“Good girl...” he said fondly and went back to the kitchen.
He thought with a hint of his former smugness and ego, I have a report to compose.
-
TJ Davenport held the sheet of plastic in her trembling hands. A combination of irritation and relief sweeping over her. A gray cat maneuvered his way along the couch she sat on, and tried to crawl into her lap. She absently stroked his fur with her left hand and glanced back at the paper in her right. The cat began to purr loudly at her attention. Despite her allergy to all things fur covered, the cat remained her steady companion, and rarely bothered her nose. The small apartment she had moved into hummed and clicked, creating a static background for her thoughts to run across. Her eyes icily roamed over the report one more time.
Final Report and Recommendations for Crew Member Theresa James DavenportAfter reviewing the report submitted by Lt. Davenport, it is this Captain's opinion that the report had clearly left out one important subject. All though, I am certain the mistake was not intentional, it appears that the Lieutenant neglected to include a full disclosure of her own personal growth and recommendations. As her superior officer, I feel it is my duty to report on this subject. My first impressions of Lt. Davenport were of a woman who had her hair too tight and took her position far too seriously. Even though I realize we have different takes on how The Book should be abided by, it became clear immediately that she and I were destined to be at opposite ends of any topic. She presented herself as an uptight, rigid, insufferable know-it-all that obviously grated against all other personalities she encountered. In short, TJ Davenport was the epitome of the phrase “Ice Queen.” Even for the first leg of our journey, she remained distant from myself and the rest of the crew, with only appearing concerned or caring when extreme situations called for such emotions to be expressed. As our ordeals progressed, however, it is my opinion that she grew to become almost a maternal figure for the students, and she worked very hard to ensure that, despite our distance from Star Academy, they continued to gather the lessons and knowledge to become more complete Stardogs. There came a time when Miss Davenport was forced to take the care of the entire crew, including myself, under her watchful eye. During this time, it is my opinion that something changed within her character. I became able to rely upon her in most extreme situations. As the journey lengthened and neared its end, she had transformed into a fuller person. She is kind-hearted, warm, and still as professional as any high ranking officer I have met. I will freely admit, with out her unwavering support, that I would not have been able to perform my duties so satisfactorily. In her report, the Lieutenant observed that with out myself, the Christa would not have returned home, but it is my opinion that this observation is a reversible one. Indeed, with out her companionship, intelligence, and constant checks of my own logic, we would not have survived. It is my observation, however, that she still allows herself to become overwhelmed and over-stressed due to her work ethic. I don't believe, given the new peace our people have achieved recently, that this is appropriate. So, it is my recommendation that, TJ Davenport implement her own vacation. Or a hiatus of sorts... Preferably, she should find some peaceful moment to indulge in under the sun somewhere. I hope, wherever she chooses, she is able to realize that, she can have all the knowledge in the world, but it will not make her happy. And for goodness sake, TJ, unwind a little.
Why that arrogant... Davenport found herself crumpling the edges of the report and the cat mewed pitifully as her petting became rough.
“Sorry, Gizbot...” she muttered and softly stroked his ears. The report was only addressed to her. It comforted and took some of the heat from her anger away knowing this. Clearly, Seth Goddard had meant to be sincere in acquiring his revenge. Davenport found herself torn between affront that he would be so bold towards her and on the same note softened by his kind words. After all, did I not do the same to him?
“Maybe he's right... Everything is finally complete. Perhaps it is time to take a few moments for myself...” Gizbot nudged her hand in either agreement or perhaps simply to encourage her light attention.
For ten years she had devoted herself to the survival of the crew. She did not afford herself any luxury beyond a few quiet cups of tea in that time. Her duties finished and the uncertainty of where she would go from here overwhelmed her mind. I will go nuts stuck behind a desk... she smiled. Davenport briefly ruminated on a venture to the beach that she and Goddard had supposedly been strolling along two nights previously. But the notion of the solitude left her empty. I'm lonely... Why else would I have gotten this cat?
The report caught her eye once again. A wild thought entered her mind and stuck there. Somewhere secluded and sunny...
“Gizbot... what time of year is it in Tennessee...”
Gizbot purred louder and kneaded her leg through the fabric of her uniform.
To Be Continued...
“Where Green Grass Grows”: Radu drops by while Goddard comes to some realizations. Davenport arrives at her vacation destination and divulges what she has been doing since the Christa's return. Goddard and Davenport both work out a possible root to their feelings of isolation... and Thelma takes things too literally.
Check Yes or No
Prompt:"All the knowledge in the universe won't make you happy." / The next round of mid-term report cards. Goddard gets one and writes one up for Davenport.
Rating: PG
Category: general, life after, some D/G
Characters: Goddard, Davenport,
Summary: Part 2 of 3. Goddard adjusts to retirement, ponders the future, and Davenport sends her final report.
Sunlight peaked through the barely parted curtains of Seth Goddard's bedroom window, yet he remained curled beneath the blankets, watching as specs of dust became golden fireflies dancing along the warm beam. It reminded him of a childhood, long ago. The UPP had spared no expense in creating his home. They had managed to combine perfectly the old feel of the two story farm house his grandparents had grown and lived in, that he had visited infrequently as a child, with the latest technology of the era so he would not be as secluded as the property sometimes felt.
The house sat along an abandoned dirt road, surrounded by forest and field for miles in all directions. Standing like a white, wooden and (hidden) steel monolith in what was left of Earth's North American wilderness. After all the years in the cold void of space, Goddard had warmed up quickly to his arrangement. Punishment, indeed, he smirked. The Admiral had said to him after the trial, that even though they had no intention of actually punishing him for his past indiscretions in any traditional matter, they observed a compelling piece of evidence that enticed them to actually mix punishment with reward. He, of course, would not share the evidence with Seth. When questioned further, the only comment the Admiral made was, “It seems you melted the ice... And that is a feet worthy of reward.”
The sound of click-clacking paws against the floorboards gradually approached his room. The door was nudged open further, and the dusty fireflies were parted as a ruddy chocolate dog approached the bedside. The shaggy cross between Labrador and hound stopped just short of Seth's out-turned face and quite happily began to pant, washing his face in thick, foul breath. Goddard had purchased the mutt from a small shelter a short time after his arrival on Earth. Upon spending a whole week in the house, though he was enjoying himself, he had become tired of fighting moments of loneliness.
The dog placed her big paws on the edge of the bed and leaned in to lick Seth's face. Goddard gave the dog a hard shove and sat up, it was time to start the day. As he made his way out of the bed and across the room, Seth took the time to spread open each window curtain, dousing the space in a wash of hot, golden murk. Though the house temperature was regulated closely, the late summer heat was undeniable and seemed to scratch at the window pains. The dog padded alongside him as he entered the hallway and descended the stairwell.
“Coffee,” Goddard called out as he reached the bottom step. A buzzing drifted down the hall from the kitchen as an assortment of machinery kicked on. The dog stopped at the front door, muzzle nearly buried in the crevice near the handle. Goddard smiled at her, “Go on Thelma...” A switch clicked and the door swung open, the dog disappearing through the space, and then the door closed itself behind her. A pang of nostalgia pricked him in the chest. He knew the android of the dog's namesake was long dismantled by the UPP lab rats. Scavenged away for the greater good.
He continued to his left around the stairwell and two doors later he entered the kitchen. A small table stood in the corner by a large window. To his left was a long counter top and cabinets that lined the wall. On the end, a fresh mug of coffee, cream only, sat waiting for him. As Goddard grabbed the mug and sat at the table he looked at the wall cornered near the window and said, “Screen on. New mail.”
The wall dissolved into a screen with various highlighted subjects, some blinked red in an urgent way. Goddard ignored them, pointedly, and said, “News,” and took a sip of coffee. The wall dissolved to black again, and then pixels reformed into an image of a very impressive doctored photo of himself and TJ Davenport taking a stroll along some tropical beach. Droplets of coffee flew across the table as he sputtered.
“... seen here, enjoying a secluded romantic rendezvous, Captain Seth Goddard and TJ Davenport seem to be having a wonderful time so soon after the stresses of a ten year ordeal in space. Reports have stated hand holding wasn't the only thing on their vacation agenda...” the image here zoomed in on Davenport's hand clasped in his, as she appeared to gently pull him along the shoreline. “... it's nice to see these two, the most talked about couple in the sol system, having a chance to truly connect...”
“Mute.”
Goddard frowned through the pounding of his heart. He squinted at the enhanced image, confirming his suspicion that the original image had been taken during one of the extravagant balls thrown in his crew's honor. If his memory served him correctly, the actual moment had been captured when TJ had grouchily snagged him by the hand and unceremoniously dragged him across the dance floor to converse with some very important ambassadors, all the while Goddard had complained that he just wanted to finish his drink.
Since Harlan's television interview, and subsequent tell-all moment, the paparazzi and news was glued to the relationship Davenport and himself may or may not be indulging in. Tabloids, inner pages, sometimes even front pages, declared various false facts concerning his private life. Now that the war was over, people were once again interested in the mundane, once again entranced in the rumor mongering of celebrities.
Goddard scoffed a little and drank more coffee. It was an unnatural thought, me, a celebrity. He was suddenly very grateful for the well kept location of his new home. Let them make up the stories, he thought, I can play the role of a prince charming with out lifting a finger. It's their fairy tale, not mine. The notion of him being turned into some over the top night in shining armor amused Goddard and he broke out into a laugh, followed by a crooked grin that lingered over his features. From where he sat, he did not have to participate in the silly game, just sit back and watch what happened in his life with out actually doing anything.
The mirth he experienced was wiped clear of his features as the image on screen shifted to a harassed looking TJ Davenport. As she tried to walk down a corridor in what Goddard assumed was the UPP main port, the bright lights and flashing of cameras dumped upon her. In one arm she clutched tightly a stack of plastic translucent reports and a compupad, her other arm was brought up in front of her eyes, trying to block out the ferocity of the bulbs.
“Unmute.”
“... what? What are you talking abo-” her accent thick with confusion, she tried to escape farther down the hallway.
“Where's your next date?!”
“Are you two in love?!”
“How was Hawaii this time of year?!”
“-- don't know what you're talking--”
“Don't be shy! Tell us!”
“-- a lot of work to do-- I must be going --”
And then she slipped into a room as the cameras nearly ran into the door. The sound of loud questions still filled the kitchen as the reporters knocked on the door. Goddard's gaze drifted down to his mug, steam still rising from with in, and then settled his stare out the window. The lush green grass reflected the early morning sunlight. A small breeze shifted the leaves on the trees at the edge of the side yard. As if sensing his need, the screen shifted back to the list of mailings waiting to be opened. Thelma raced past Goddard's view, chasing a leaf that had colored and fallen from a tree prematurely, but he looked right through her.
Life had become so normal aboard the Christa, everything flowed in its own way. He and Miss Davenport had even begun sharing a sense of normality. They fought less than in the beginning, an unspoken understanding had long ago been reached between them. For some time during the journey, Seth Goddard and TJ Davenport had grown into each other, had grown to actually enjoy each other. We were almost... close, Goddard mused sadly. Whatever had started between them had somehow vanished the moment they set foot on UPP territory. Seth felt regret begin to stir in his chest, but pushed it down again and focused on the mail in front of him.
The first five mailings were from Harlan. All of which were at least five minutes of him apologizing over and over. Goddard deleted them with out opening any for more than five seconds. There were a few new mailings after that concerning various projects to make the assimilation of the Spung race go smoother. Radu stressed that Goddard's input would greatly be appreciated in the matters. Seth spent the better part of an hour contributing and replying to these. The process left him feeling accomplished. It was always rewarding to know that he was still valued, and that even though he had been sent away from all of the action as punishment, he could still be apart of it all.
A memory suddenly dropped, uninvited, into his mind:
Miss Davenport, the truth is, you wouldn't want your old job back... After an adventure like this? You would go nuts stuck behind a desk...
Goddard knew she had been offered the position of all the sorting, reporting, debriefing, and more or less making an accurate historical record of all that had occurred during their ten year trip. Clearly, she had taken it. Goddard also knew that despite the woman's zeal for writing dry, clinical reports, there was also another side to her that she was most likely in the process of smothering by taking up the historical torch. He pitied her, and suddenly found himself angry that he was enjoying his new life so much, while TJ was still nose to the grind... And I'm sure the reporters hounding her aren't a big help. Seth felt a pang of guilt for not doing more to dispel the rumors about them. It was causing someone he cared for a great deal, stress and probably a whole slew of other unpleasant emotions.
As if summoned by his thoughts, a new message blinked to life on the screen.
Sender: Lt. Theresa James Davenport
Subject: Final Debrief of Christa and Final Term Report Cards
Seth let the text before him blink several times before he cautiously uttered, “Open.” He got up and retrieved his second mug of coffee that already waited for him on the counter. An automated voice read the name of the sender and subject out loud.
When Seth turned back around he was struck into stillness. Taking up the better part of his kitchen wall was an image of TJ Davenport sitting in uniform and looking slightly nervous. Except for the look of mild terror written in her eyes and along some of the new lines on her face, she seemed, as always: professional, clean cut, and impassive. She was always considered pretty by his standards, and perhaps it was the two months he had spent not seeing her, but a thought rushed rudely into his mind, she's beautiful. Suddenly, her voice filled the space around him. A heaviness entered Seth's chest and he slumped into the chair once again, letting the brisk British accent invade his senses. His eyes slid shut as he listened to her calmly go over a brief summary of what her message would contain.
When she was finished with her introduction an awkward pause filled the recording, and Goddard opened his eyes again. TJ still sat stiffly before the camera, but her eyes had wandered off to the side. She inhaled deeply before adding, “And I hope that this final recounting of our journey finds all the recipients in good spirits...” a hint of a smile edged at her lips, “I hope you're all doing well.”
She then began to re-tell the history of the Christa, how her unlikely crew was formed, and then passing between an unbiased, third person voice, and an experienced storyteller, she told of their journey. All ten years of it, in surprising accurate detail. Goddard allowed the hours to slip away, only leaving the area to relieve himself and to make himself food. The rest of the day was spent sitting at his kitchen table, sharing in the nostalgia. Many times he found himself smiling or laughing as memories were freshened within him. As the report went on, Davenport too became occasionally distracted, lingering longer than professionally necessary on a certain moment or situation. Goddard found himself making odd commentary during her account. He caught himself several times having a one sided argument with the woman on the screen. Well, at least that much hasn't changed.
Near the conclusion, Thelma appeared next to Goddard's leg, causing him to jump. Apparently, the house had finally taken pity on her and let the dog back indoors of it's own volition. As Seth produced her bowl of food and water, Davenport's voice changed from her clinical discussion into a softer tone. Over Thelma's enthusiastic crunching, Goddard heard her say, “... had we known how important or journey was going to end up to the UPP, and all solar systems, perhaps we would have done things a bit different... But, then again, perhaps it would not have had such a happy ending.” She paused here and looked around at whatever objects were contained in the room she sat. Her lips pressed together tightly and her breath came in sharply. Goddard recognized this immediately, she wants to say something more, probably something personal. Instead, she blinked several times, released the breath and returned her gaze to the camera.
“Now, as I was asked to do, I will now give my final report on each of the crew members, of their performance and my recommendations for their future pursuits.” And then, Davenport went on to give exactly that. Though her reports were less critical than the midterm reports she had handed out just before the doppelganger had shown up on the ship. Goddard grimaced visibly but continued to listen.
“... and in conclusion, I would like to broach the topic of Seth Goddard,” during her pause Seth's neck hairs stood up and he grunted at her through the screen, “Commander Seth Goddard, though admittedly, previously thought to be the worst possible teacher in the galaxy, did... exceptionally well. At the time of this report, his trial is still two days away. I would like to submit the following as testimonial toward the outcome of his sentence...” She paused again, this time forgetting herself and softly biting the corner of her lower lip.
Something inside Goddard tightened.
“When I first encountered Commander Goddard, it was on his arrival at Star Academy. He was not in proper uniform, nor did he address any of the current staff with any sort of respect. He was... insubordinate, smug, and completely consumed by his own ego...” she finished the sentence with a furious blush and irritation in her voice. Goddard slammed his mug on the counter and opened his mouth to protest, and then remembered she could not hear him.
“During the time I spent observing him at Star Academy, not much of these traits seemed to change. Indeed, The Commander seemed only occupied with counting down the days he had left. His disregard for the teaching setting was unsettling to say the least. I did not believe he would be properly reassigned, when his time was up, as I could not attest to his lesson learned. I'm sure if he knew that I was the one responsible for his review, he may have treated me differently. But as it stands, he treated me with the same offhanded annoyance he handed to his students.” Goddard swallowed hard at the revelation.
“I followed him onto the Christa that fateful morning because of my concern for the students. Once I finally comprehended our situation, I will admit freely that I was concerned for all of our lives knowing that this man was whom we must turn to. In fact, it rather terrified me...” Davenport looked down at her hands momentarily, then the lines on her face smoothed and she glanced back up.
“However, over the next ten years I continued to observe Commander Seth Goddard. It didn't happen over night, but I, as well as the students, became aware of who he really is. Soon, we were all able to notice the style and grace he possesses as a leader, those certain qualities few of us have, and even fewer of us are able to control and wield. Much to my horror, Seth Goddard would inevitably place himself between us and danger. I shrink to imagine what the journey may have been if something had taken him from me- I - us... In his own way, he taught the students discipline, courage, intelligent decision making, and above all, compassion. He is a brave man with an exceptional ability to lead and care for those charged to him... It is my opinion that... without Commander Seth Goddard, we would not have made it home. We would have been no safer with any other soldier in the UPP ranks.” Davenport stopped there, then allowed her features to harden as she concluded, “If this man is to be tried for his past actions, then, it is my opinion that he has already, over the course of this journey, more than 'done his time.'” Goddard could not help smiling at her air quotes.
“Commander Seth Goddard should not be judged on the events of the past, but rather, I implore you to look at how far he has come and recognize who he has become... He does not deserve punishment, but rather, I believe... The crew of the Christa believes... He should be rewarded... or at the very least... forgiven.”
It was clear that she had run out of steam. Davenport's features were tired now and she could not keep the look of concern from crossing her face. She wrung out her hands a few times, tucked a stray hair behind her ear, smoothed her pants out, and then the recording ended. When the screen was completely black, Goddard shifted his eyes to the window. The sun was already below the horizon, stars were now visible as the sky continued to darken. Seth looked down at Thelma, who returned the stare. Her eyes soft and deep, full of patience and unconditional obedience.
“This...” he waved his hand around toward the house, “is all because of her... You realize that right?”
Thelma cocked her head, but kept her level gaze.
“Don't you get it? THIS was the piece of evidence the council was referring to...” Goddard began to pace the kitchen floor. Emotions fought tooth and nail within him as he stalked back and forth. Thelma's head followed him for several minutes, before she laid down on the tile, exhausted from his efforts.
Here I am, enjoying all of this, when it is all because of a few kind words from this woman. I get all of this and what has she been given? Hell, I don't even know... I don't even know what sort of life she's been living... what sort of life they gave her on our return.
He stopped and looked down at Thelma, who didn't move her head, but glanced up with her eyes. “The truth is... I couldn't have gone these past ten years with out her... She is as much responsible for our success as I am.” Thelma ruffed softly in agreement.
She deserves better... If she really was the deciding factor in that trial... She deserves more.
The image of TJ Davenport being hassled by camera's and her weathered features struck him hard; he felt slapped. Guilt washed over him anew. Thelma ruffed louder, this time picking her head off her paws.
Goddard scratched his fast approaching five o'clock shadow and said, “You're right... I've got to do something... for her.”
Thelma got up and began to wander out of the kitchen, Goddard followed her, still deep in thought. Thelma lead him through the first floor hallway along the stairs, and then into the living room, where she jumped up onto a small couch positioned in front of a large bay window. Just outside the window Goddard half noticed the view of the front porch, complete with swinging love seat, and then to the long expanse of the front lawn.
He suddenly felt isolated and alone in the big house. It appeared very large to him. All this room for just one person and a dog struck him as absurd.
Thelma wagged her tail and it thumped dully against the cushions. Goddard grinned from ear to ear. Thelma opened her jaw wide and began to pant, giving the appearance of a large grin.
“Good girl...” he said fondly and went back to the kitchen.
He thought with a hint of his former smugness and ego, I have a report to compose.
-
TJ Davenport held the sheet of plastic in her trembling hands. A combination of irritation and relief sweeping over her. A gray cat maneuvered his way along the couch she sat on, and tried to crawl into her lap. She absently stroked his fur with her left hand and glanced back at the paper in her right. The cat began to purr loudly at her attention. Despite her allergy to all things fur covered, the cat remained her steady companion, and rarely bothered her nose. The small apartment she had moved into hummed and clicked, creating a static background for her thoughts to run across. Her eyes icily roamed over the report one more time.
Final Report and Recommendations for Crew Member Theresa James DavenportAfter reviewing the report submitted by Lt. Davenport, it is this Captain's opinion that the report had clearly left out one important subject. All though, I am certain the mistake was not intentional, it appears that the Lieutenant neglected to include a full disclosure of her own personal growth and recommendations. As her superior officer, I feel it is my duty to report on this subject. My first impressions of Lt. Davenport were of a woman who had her hair too tight and took her position far too seriously. Even though I realize we have different takes on how The Book should be abided by, it became clear immediately that she and I were destined to be at opposite ends of any topic. She presented herself as an uptight, rigid, insufferable know-it-all that obviously grated against all other personalities she encountered. In short, TJ Davenport was the epitome of the phrase “Ice Queen.” Even for the first leg of our journey, she remained distant from myself and the rest of the crew, with only appearing concerned or caring when extreme situations called for such emotions to be expressed. As our ordeals progressed, however, it is my opinion that she grew to become almost a maternal figure for the students, and she worked very hard to ensure that, despite our distance from Star Academy, they continued to gather the lessons and knowledge to become more complete Stardogs. There came a time when Miss Davenport was forced to take the care of the entire crew, including myself, under her watchful eye. During this time, it is my opinion that something changed within her character. I became able to rely upon her in most extreme situations. As the journey lengthened and neared its end, she had transformed into a fuller person. She is kind-hearted, warm, and still as professional as any high ranking officer I have met. I will freely admit, with out her unwavering support, that I would not have been able to perform my duties so satisfactorily. In her report, the Lieutenant observed that with out myself, the Christa would not have returned home, but it is my opinion that this observation is a reversible one. Indeed, with out her companionship, intelligence, and constant checks of my own logic, we would not have survived. It is my observation, however, that she still allows herself to become overwhelmed and over-stressed due to her work ethic. I don't believe, given the new peace our people have achieved recently, that this is appropriate. So, it is my recommendation that, TJ Davenport implement her own vacation. Or a hiatus of sorts... Preferably, she should find some peaceful moment to indulge in under the sun somewhere. I hope, wherever she chooses, she is able to realize that, she can have all the knowledge in the world, but it will not make her happy. And for goodness sake, TJ, unwind a little.
Why that arrogant... Davenport found herself crumpling the edges of the report and the cat mewed pitifully as her petting became rough.
“Sorry, Gizbot...” she muttered and softly stroked his ears. The report was only addressed to her. It comforted and took some of the heat from her anger away knowing this. Clearly, Seth Goddard had meant to be sincere in acquiring his revenge. Davenport found herself torn between affront that he would be so bold towards her and on the same note softened by his kind words. After all, did I not do the same to him?
“Maybe he's right... Everything is finally complete. Perhaps it is time to take a few moments for myself...” Gizbot nudged her hand in either agreement or perhaps simply to encourage her light attention.
For ten years she had devoted herself to the survival of the crew. She did not afford herself any luxury beyond a few quiet cups of tea in that time. Her duties finished and the uncertainty of where she would go from here overwhelmed her mind. I will go nuts stuck behind a desk... she smiled. Davenport briefly ruminated on a venture to the beach that she and Goddard had supposedly been strolling along two nights previously. But the notion of the solitude left her empty. I'm lonely... Why else would I have gotten this cat?
The report caught her eye once again. A wild thought entered her mind and stuck there. Somewhere secluded and sunny...
“Gizbot... what time of year is it in Tennessee...”
Gizbot purred louder and kneaded her leg through the fabric of her uniform.
To Be Continued...
“Where Green Grass Grows”: Radu drops by while Goddard comes to some realizations. Davenport arrives at her vacation destination and divulges what she has been doing since the Christa's return. Goddard and Davenport both work out a possible root to their feelings of isolation... and Thelma takes things too literally.