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"I know Cadet Mir is the father," says Lura, and every little bit of flesh that composes Nahla strings further apart with each syllable.
Lura sits, folds her hands over her knees, gives Nahla a pointed and expectant stare. As Lura rests on the chair across from her chaise, Nahla stands, her own hands raising to cover her mouth as if puppeteered there. Her heart sledgehammers, breaking through her chest; Lura's expression floods down into pity as she watches Nahla pace.
"I can explain," Nahla says. "We--"
"No," Lura interrupts. Then, softer: "I understand."
"You do?"
Lura's eyes shift to the side. "I fell in love here, once, too," she says, and her words trail off in a tone of longing. Nahla treats the admission like a punch—Lura with a War College professor?---Lura Thok, hopelessly and adorably in love? For a moment Nahla thinks about an infatuated Lura, her eyes glimmering as they gaze, her fingers tapping with ferocious anxiety on a classroom table. Similar to the way Caleb looks at her, sometimes, now. She thinks of Lura, and then—
It hits her. I fell in love here, once, too.
Does she—
The fact that she loves him is undeniable and ubiquitous. Sometimes when she remembers it, it slams into her, and it becomes intolerable again all at once, needling into her pores until she is sewn up with such tightness that she bursts, viscera shining across the floor like replicated ruby rings. She loves him, she loves him, and Lura can tell.
"Sit down," Lura says with a thick groan. Nahla obeys; she always will, for Lura. "Are you going to tell him?"
"Are you?"
Lura gives a long sigh, drawing out her breath to make a point. "I'm disappointed, I will admit," she says. "But I cannot say I don't sympathize. I.. you have been incredible with our cadets. The reason they believe in Starfleet Academy is you, Chancellor, it wouldn't be the same with anyone else in charge. And I… I could not work for anyone else." She pauses. "I am a loyal being, Nahla. When I find someone worthy, and honorable, I will not leave their side, regardless of how many mistakes they make. I won't tell anyone."
Nahla freezes, and iced-over tears begin to melt at the ducts of her eyes, thawing the rest of her body into something calmer. Lura is loyal; of course she is. "I don't know what to say," Nahla breathes, incredulous and trembling. An inexplicably comfortable nausea bubbles within.
"You could begin with answering my question," Lura says. "Are you going to tell Cadet Mir that you are carrying his child?"
"I don't know," Nahla admits, her mouth hanging open just slightly at the last word. She sighs, now, rubs her forehead with her index finger and thumb, tries to soothe her stress. "He's doing so well here, I—I don't want to ruin things for him. He's really thriving."
"Why do you assume that it will ruin things for him?" Lura asks, and - hm.
"He's just—" she tries to stop herself from saying he's just a kid, despite the fact that, truly, he is just a kid. But he is so much more; he is a kid whose childhood was ripped out of his hands and sent to a rehabilitation camp, he is a kid whose youth starved to death, he grew up so fast that he transcends age. "Do you think he would be able to handle it? I mean, genuinely. He's only been out of starvation mode for a year and a half. He doesn't know what he wants, and he should get a chance to figure it out without being tied down to the person who ruined his life."
"And saved his life," Lura reminds her.
"Same thing."
"He seemed to know what he wanted when he chose to sleep with you," Lura continues. She reaches over, takes Nahla's hands in the chill of her own, gives her a flowing, comfortable squeeze. "Cadet Mir is one of the smartest we have. When he figures it out --- and he will figure it out — he may consider the fact that you didn't tell him another betrayal."
Nahla groans. She squeezes Lura's hand back, tangles their fingers up. "I know, Lura, fuck, I know. I just feel so guilty."
"He deserves to have a place in their life if he wants one," Lura says, her gaze shining with warmth. "Give Mir a chance."
Nahla looks at her. "Thank you, Number One," she whispers, wiping her eyes as more tears invade. "My most trusted advisor."
