Responsible For Your Rose
Characters: Margaret Morgan, Candace Carlacci Devine
Morgan had been back on the bridge for a while when her Tactical console announced an incoming communication from Tuzanor. It was flagged urgent — and personal. She scowled, wondering what Elora had gotten into, but opened it immediately.
It was Candace, Carlacci’s daughter. Her expression was far different from the laughing, carefree portrait on her father’s pocket holoplate — her features were knotted with the effort of holding back worry. But she bowed respectfully, in the Minbari fashion.
“Anla’shok Morgan … I’m glad you’re there,” she said.
“Candace. What is wrong?” She was blunt as usual, and worried.
“I’m hoping you can tell me,” she said. “Where’s my father? I was going to tell him what happened with Elora, but he’s not on the ship.”
“Ah…” How to phrase this, to not worry her, but give her as much information as security, and Security, would allow? “He had to go on a sudden mission. I am sorry he did not have time to contact you first.”
“Where — never mind,” Candace said, shaking her head. “You’d tell me if you could. Anyway –” she shook her head again, as if she could shake off the apprehension and worry. “Anyway, I did see Elora, yesterday. I don’t know if she’s called you herself …”
“Ie, I had a cryptic message from her, overnight. ‘Went out, saw stuff’, I think is how it went. I presumed you had met her.”
Despite everything, Candace grinned at the terse wording of Elora’s message. “Yeah, I sure did. Actually it went pretty well, I think. We met sparring but parted friends.”
“Ie, that is good. Thank you for the effort. I hope it helps.”
“I think it will, though I’ll keep on it as much as I can.” Candace chuckled. “I think I might have even planted the seeds of some respect for the Anla’shok, though that was mostly self-interest on my part.”
“That is what runs the universe. I am glad your father suggested this, now.”
At the mention of her father, Candace’s enthusiasm visibly faded. She took a deep breath. “I’ll … I’ll keep in touch, with Elora and you,” she said. “Maybe I should let you go for now?”
“I am sorry,” Morgan said softly. “I will keep you informed, of what I can.”
“Thank you,” Candace said, emphasizing the sincere tone with a bow.
“Be careful.” The screen went dark as she cut the connection.
You are responsible for your rose. – Antoine de Saint-Exupery, "The Little Prince"
Copyright (c) 2003 Jamie Lawson and Leslie McBride. All rights reserved.