Jigsaw

Wednesday evening, Dining Room, Throxton Mansion

"We watched the Funeral service here, Pen," his father said. "It was a truly moving service. But the thing that touched me the most was seeing my own son, with his boyfriend, marching with the young men paying honors to the fallen. I've failed you in a lot of ways, boy, and it took this whole episode with Jenkins to make me realize how much. So I want to make sure you realize how proud I am of you, and of the man you've grown into being."

Pen blushed at the unaccustomed compliment. "Thanks, Father," he said embarrassedly.

Doug was smiling at what he heard, but in his eyes was a sense of sorrow — at his own mother's attitude. Francis noticed, and reached over to place his hand on Doug's shoulder. "I understand," he said. "I haven't spoken to some of my own family for over 10 years now. I know it hurts, and there's little I can do to help. Just know I understand, Doug — and if you need to talk about it, I'm always available, a phone call away."

"I couldn't..." Doug began, to be interrupted by, "Of course you can!" from the other three. "Let me tell you yet again that you belong here, you're part of the family," Pen senior said. "And I'll keep repeating it until it sinks in."

"Father?" said Pen diffidently. Raised eyebrows invited him to continue. "This probably isn't a big deal, but it's something that matters to me, so I thought I'd ask...."

"Go on."

"Well, we were talking with Skipper and Bobby after the funeral, and there's something I could use your advice on...." The older man's expression was expectant. "Well, they want Bobby to quit being an EMT, which is something he's had his heart set on and learned how to do it and got licensed. The insurance company won't insure him because he's too young, and the Selectmen want him to quit because of the insurance company. And I owe it to them — not only did they take care of me after what Tony did, but they're my brothers in the Clan now, and Dougie's. There's got to be something we can do."

Pen's father had been getting angrier as Pen told his story. Francis caught his eye, and said determinedly, "Let me, Pen." Receiving a nod from the older man, he pulled out his cellphone. "May I speak for you as well, Pen?" he asked. The millionaire nodded. "Of course."

"It's Hub Assurance, right?" Francis asked. "I remember when we both set up with them, and you recommended it to the town, too, as I recall."

"That's correct," Pen senior said steelily.

"Hello, Jerry? Francis Lagrange here. — Oh, I think you want to take this call right now; your dinner party can wait. — Well, let's start with, there are two young men whose parents were killed by agents of one of your policyholders, acting in an official capacity; I plan to get in touch with their guardian and recommend a lawsuit. — Oh, no more than thirty million or so. I thought you should know, get your legal department geared up for it. When you're done with that one, you can defend against a case of age discrimination, in violation of the law of the land; that one, I think, should be on the same level. And, by the way, this is notice that effective at 8:00 tomorrow morning Lagrange and Halstead and Throxton Industries will be canceling all their policies, for cause, with a refund of this year's premiums expected within 48 hours. — No, I'm not joking. I'm sitting here with Pen Throxton and his son. The boy was saved from life-threatening injury by the EMT your button counters want the town to dismiss as underage, in defiance of a court order founded on U.F.P. law. They're mad as hell, ready to sue — I managed to talk them down to just pulling our business from you." He paused and listened. "All right; we'll hold off 48 hours on your promise to get that reversed. And offer a good settlement to the Templeton boys. I know their lawyer; he hasn't lost a case in 20 years. — We'll be waiting to hear from you, tomorrow morning."

He hung up his cellphone with a smug expression. The elder Throxton was nodding delightedly. Francis looked at Pen and Doug. "Little lesson for you, boys. Money talks. Make sure it says the right things."

Pen senior reached behind him to a sideboard, where a telephone sat, and brought it onto the table. "I hate those modern pocket phones — never could get used to them. Give me an old fashioned phone like this, any day." He dialed a number. "Hank? Pen Throxton here. I think you'll find that Hub Assurance will be rescinding that letter about the Martin boy; you'll probably get a call tomorrow about it. You'll need to get the Selectmen together and reverse your resolution. -- Why? Because it's the law, man! This is the 21st century; stop acting like we're not part of an interstellar federation. — You're up for reelection next month; so are Don and Marybeth. Ask them if they'd like to see a real election campaign, complete with how the Town of Arkham violates State, Federal, and Federation law under the current administration. I'd be glad to fund someone's campaign against you that follows the laws. — That's what I thought. You go give Grace — no, young Bobby — a call, with your apologies. And the next time you make a speech about 'our youth', acknowledge that you have a young volunteer who is one of the best EMTs in the state."

He hung up and said, "And that is how you use political pressure the right way." He looked at Francis; the two men nodded, then turned to the boys and grinned.

---

Wilde Residence, West Amboy, NJ

Marsha was surprised at Jack's arrival home at noon. "Is there something wrong, darling?" she asked concernedly, knowing how precarious the business had been recently.

"Not at all," Jack said. "Almost the first thing this morning, I had two gentlemen come to call on me, along with that little boy who was here Monday night. It seems he's inherited a construction company, and they made me an offer to buy into it and manage it. It sounds like the opportunity we've been waiting for."

"Oh, wonderful!" Marsha answered. "But you know about shells and false fronts — do you think they're on the up and up?"

"I'm fairly certain of it — they're a judge and D.A., and provided me I.D. to prove it. They're handling the affairs of the company — it seems the previous owner was a crook, and is in prison or some such now, so it defaulted to the state to transfer to the creditors — which turned out to be that boy." Jack went over the offer with Marsha effusively, clearly pleased by the terms.

"What about Harold?" Marsha asked.

"You know Harold — he was as concerned for my future as for his own. It actually works out for him — while he'll have to carry the load of what I've been doing, not paying my salary will give him a bit more wiggle room. We agreed that I'd go check things out at the new business, then give him my notice if it looks good."

"I really hate to pull up stakes — we have a nice home here," Marsha temporized.

"Yeah, but you know how long we'd be able to hang onto it if Middlesex folds. Oh, I promised Harold to try to steer some business his way if I can, assuming I take the job." Jack added.

"When are you going to check the business out?" she asked. "The way Brett's been the past few days, I really don't want to have you gone for several days."

"That's worked out already," Jack said. "I won't have to travel long distances — they have some in with Starfleet or something of the sort connected with the Federation; they said they could arrange instant transport when I'm ready. I'll go some time Friday, with you and Brett along, to check things out; I just have to call them when I'm ready. They said that moving the household would be no problem either, and there are a few nice houses vacant in town."

"Well, that's a relief!" Marsha said. "I wasn't looking forward to packing everything and trusting it to a mover, or trying to find a decent house." Abruptly she smiled. "First time in months I've had you home at noon on a weekday — want some lunch and some couple time before Brett gets home?"

Jack smiled broadly. "Sounds wonderful. Soup and sandwiches?" Marsha nodded.

---

Starfleet Headquarters

"Ray, keep an eye on things." Captain Benjamin Matlock of Starfleet poked his head into the door. "Morrow wants me to report to his office — in person. I hope it's not more crap like the Yorktown uncovered; that sort of scam gave us all a bad name, that I don't want this division tarred with." Starfleet's senior engineering officer scowled remembering the scandal, a scant three weeks before.

"No problem, sir. I've been over our operations, and nothing else like that could have escaped my eye." Commander Raymond Doncaster was every inch the efficient executive officer whom Matlock had come to rely on.

"Thanks, Ray. That really gave us a black eye," Matlock said as he turned to leave. Doncaster turned his attention back to his computer. Just over a minute later, the chime announced the arrival of the elevator Matlock would take up to Admiral Morrow's office.

Doncaster turned and punched a button on his desk phone. "Lindley, get in here," he said gruffly. Moments later, Lt. Allison Lindley walked in, with no indication of fear of the chewing-out that Doncaster's tone in the summons had portended.

Doncaster gave her a thin smile. "The Old Man's concerned about more scams. How good is our cover?"

"Solid," the career Starfleet woman replied. "The proper paperwork for disposal is all in place, and backed up by other documentation. An audit would actually strengthen our cover." She smiled. "My tastes are just as expensive as yours are, Ray. I've made sure nobody can uncover our skim like they did those bunglers with the rebuilt parts."

Doncaster nodded. "Any weak links in the rest of the group?"

Lindley shook her head no. "With people, there's always a risk. But Frank's been on top of the personality profiles as Human Resources for this division, and he's confident they won't break."

"How about those Holy Joes?" Doncaster's reference was to five hires over the past year whose rather in-your-face conservative religion had led to the nickname.

"They like money as well as anyone else. Frank's confident about them too — in fact, he almost bit my head off when I questioned how sure we could be of having them in the scheme." The woman frowned.

"Yeah, well, my neck's stuck out further than anyone else's if anything slips." Doncaster was unhappy. "Double check everything — including Frank's analysis of those profiles, Ally."

"All right, Ray," Lindley said. "But stop worrying. It's solid, I tell you."

---

Ambassador Sarek's expression was calmly stern, as usual. But Adm. Harrison Morrow had learned to read the Vulcan over the years, and knew the pent-up anger within. He drew a breath and ventured to ask, "How do you propose we proceed?"

"You are in command, Admiral," came the response. "But I must insist that justice be done to the full extent. Those of my House and Family were killed. C'thia demands that the books be balanced, that debts be paid. I can ask for no more as a Vulcan — but I will ask for no less."

"Captain Matlock to see you, Admiral," came over the intercom from Morrow's assistant.

He touched a button on his desk. "Send him in."

As Matlock entered the Admiral's office, the Admiral rose and held out a Vulcan data pad to the head of Starfleet Engineering. "Read this, Ben!" he instructed with a touch of command in his voice.

Matlock took the pad and began reading. As he continued, a look of shock and anger washed across his florid face.

---

West Amboy, New Jersey

Brett came running into the house. "Hey, Mom!" he called out, grabbing a soda from the refrigerator and a handful of cookies. "Guess what!" Then, catching sight of his father, "Hi, Dad! What're you doing home?"

"Tell you in a minute, son," Jack said, standing and hugging his son warmly. "But you sounded exuberant — why don't you tell us your news first?"

"Oh, they canceled classes for the afternoon," Brett said. "We watched the ceremony down in Charleston on a big-screen TV in assembly, and guess what! Those guys who were here Monday were in it. One of 'em even made a speech, just like the President and that Vulcan dude!"

Marsha hid a smile at her son's ebullience. "That's pretty nice. But why are you so hyped up about it?"

"Well, I never met anybody famous before — and it looked like you had to be famous to be a part of that. They even had a kid younger than me doing the commentary while they did the flag folding. It was awesome!"

"Well, my news is not quite so exciting as all that," Jack said. "But I've been offered a new job. How would you like to take Friday off from school, and go with your mother and me to check out where we would move to?" He gave his son a smile.

Brett's face fell. "Yeah, I guess..." he said. "May I be excused?" And he left his soda on the table and, taking a yes answer as given, headed up the stairs.

Jack and Marsha looked at each other. "I didn't expect that reaction," Jack said. "He's been moody all week."

"I'll go see what's wrong," Marsha responded, and headed for the stairs.

---

Brett was lying face down on his bed, sobbing gently, when Marsha walked into his room. "What's wrong, Brett?" she asked gently.

"N-Nuthin'," he answered without looking up.

"Hey, kiddo, we want you to be happy!" she said, sitting on the bed and rubbing his back. "But we can't make that happen if you don't say what's wrong. C'mon, give."

Brett rolled over and looked up at his mother, eyes wet and a dribble of mucus running down from his nose. She grabbed a tissue from the box beside his bed, and wiped his eyes and nose, handing it to him after.

Brett blew his nose with an inelegant 'Snork.' "Momma, do we have to move?" he asked.

"Well, we hadn't told you all the gory details, but Harold's company is losing money, and we would have had to sooner or later anyway. This job offer's something we hadn't expected, and your father is really happy with it. You willing to at least give it a try?"

Brett looked up at her. "I guess," he said. "But...." he let his comment dwindle off.

"But what, honey?" she asked. "Tell me what's wrong."

"Well," Brett said, "those guys that took Danny and his mother and Annie said they could get us back together, so's I could stay friends with Danny. But if we move, they won't know where we've gone!"

"And that matters to you a lot, hmm?" Marsha asked. Brett blushed and nodded "Um-hmmm."

"Well, it's not like we're going to vanish like a puff of smoke, you know," she reassured him. "There's forwarding addresses, and the neighbors will know where we're going, and such. If they're looking to find you, it won't be too hard for them to find out."

Brett smiled wanly. "Umm, I guess. Is Dad upset with me?"

"No. Why?"

"Well, I kinda poured cold water on his surprise," Brett said, with a quaver in his voice.

"That's okay, honey," Marsha answered. "He loves you; he understands." She smiled. "C'mon downstairs — I'll make chicken nuggets for dinner, and you can help me with the fries."

Brett nodded and followed her.

---

At the House in Orlando

Sylvia watched with a broad smile as a parade of young people brought armload after armload across from what had been Rina's apartment to the house she had owned. 'This was what I really needed in my life,' she thought to herself, 'young people to share it with and give me back a sense of what I'd been missing all those years.' She chuckled as she watched C.J. carry, at arms' length, a box of Rina's underwear, as if girl's clothes would contaminate him in some way. Mickey matter-of-factly took it from him and passed it to Rina, who was arranging things in what would be their room. Her heart warmed as she saw them blow a kiss to each other as they made the handover. She restrained herself from bursting into laughter as Jared, handing a box to Jed at the door of the room they had claimed, copped a quick feel in the process.

Raffy came in laden with a huge armful of C.J.'s 'valuables', and on impulse set them down in a chair, ran over, and gave her a big hug. Heart full, she hugged him back, then helped him carry the things he'd brought in down to the room the two youngest boys would share.

She came back out to see Mickey wiping his forehead while Rina poured him and herself a glass of Citrus Squeeze. "Want some, Sylvia?" she asked.

"No thanks; I'm fine," she responded. "But have you given any thought to dinner?"

"I figured just a pick-me-up of cold cuts, chips, and salad," Rina said.

"After that amount of work?" Sylvia asked. Mickey's stomach growled as if agreeing with her. "Why don't I treat everyone to a meal out?"

"Sylvia, we couldn't..." Rina began, as Sylvia touched two fingers to Rina's lips. "I'm not exactly loaded," she said, "but Robert left me more than comfortable. Y'all are my family now, and I want to … want to play the grandmother spoiling her boys. And neither of us wants to cook after all that moving, nor does Mickey, I'm sure. So let it ride easy, dear."

"We accept," Mickey said firmly with an affectionate look at Sylvia and a hand to Rina's shoulder. Smiling at the boy-becoming-a-man who had won her heart, Rina nodded acquiescence to his, and Sylvia's, wishes.

---

Tanya came into the house ebullient, dragging Rachel and Lisa in with her. Kait glanced up, amused. "Hi hon, hi girls! Good day at school?"

"Oh yeah!" Tanya answered. "They canceled everything after lunch so we could watch the funeral ceremony. Did you guys watch it?"

"That we did," Kait said. "I was really surprised to see Jonas up there speaking. To think I had a national celebrity sitting at my kitchen table sharing hot chocolate with my little girl!" she grinned. "And you got mentioned by name on national TV, too, Rachel."

Rachel blushed. "I almost wish he hadn't done that."

"Why?" asked Kelly from the sink, where she was washing dishes. "You're a perfect example of what he was talking about — a kid who does the right thing and gets no recognition for it."

"What was the big mistake you kept him from?" Kait asked.

Tanya and Rachel both flushed and cringed. "Mother, I think we may need to talk privately about that," Tanya said with a pointed look at her mother, who shrugged and nodded.

"So, Lisa," Kait said to change the subject, "is your father still down on your dating that DiPuglia boy?"

It was Lisa's turn to blush and wince, but she held her head up. "I broke up with him Monday, Mrs. O'Ryan."

Danny came running in. "Hey, Mom, Aunt Kait!" He saw the girls and waved "Hi, Tanya!" He grabbed three cookies from the plate Kait had set out for the girls' snack. "I was talking to Billy from next door. Didja know that there's a house down the street that people got murdered in?"

Kelly looked startled. "Murdered? In Arkham?"

"Yeah," Kait replied, "George and Rhonda Templeton. You wouldn't know George; he was a civil engineer who met Rhonda Sarles in college and took a job here when they graduated. The Dispatch had a whole big story on it — it was a couple of cops paid off by Randall Scordo that did it. Their older boy's about Danny's age."

"What happened to them?" Lisa asked.

"They're down in Florida now," Rachel interjected. "That group that Jonas and Harry are part of came in and arrested Old Man Scordo and the crooked cops." There was a tone of pride in Rachel's voice.

"We're headed over to Lisa's, Mother," Tanya said. Then, thinking about what she'd committed to do, "Hey, Danny? Want to tag along with us? We can show you around town a little, and Cody — that's Lisa's little brother — is a year younger than you. I'll bet he might want to make friends. If it's OK with you, Aunt Kelly, that is?" she finished breathlessly.

"Sure," Kelly said, then to Danny, "You stick with the girls, and do what they say, y'hear?"

"Aw, Mom," Danny answered.

"Cody'll probably want to show him around, trails and stuff that boys like," Lisa put in. "His best friend moved away over the summer, and he's been down in the dumps over it, so having a new kid around may cheer him up." That comment, however, reminded Danny of Brett, and his enthusiasm waned.

"Well, if you don't want to go...." Kelly said to him, noting his expression.

"No, I guess I'd like to. It's just..." he stopped, unwilling to say more to her.

"Okay, c'mon," Tanya said, leading the girls and Danny out the door.

---

Admiral Morrow's Office

Captain Matlock looked up, shock and anger written across his face. "Harry," he said to the Admiral, "if you want my resignation, you have it. I had no idea this was going on under my watch!"

"Calm down, Ben, and take one of your pills," Morrow answered him. "As the boys made clear, Ray and his group used everything in their power, including your trust in him, to cover up what they were doing." He paused and sighed. "But we will have to clean house in your division — immediately. We'll discuss what to do to make sure this doesn't happen again later. But I think it will simply require giving you an adjutant who deserves your trust. A man cannot be expected to command without delegating to people he can trust; I find no wrong in your actions."

Sarek spoke up. "Come here, Benjamin," he said to the Engineering Captain. As Matlock complied, he reached out and rested both hands on the man's temples.

A minute passed. "Record, please," Sarek said to Morrow, who touched a control on his desk. "After examination by kash-naf, I, Sarek, Kevet of Vulcan for the United Federation of Planets, Patriarch of the House of Surak, do certify that there was no fault nor wrongdoing in Benjamin Carruthers Matlock, Captain of Engineers for Starfleet. End record." He paused and said to the two humans, "I believe that complies with Starfleet regulations, regarding a court of inquiry or the equivalent, to exonerate Benjamin of blame."

"Thank you, Sarek," the red-faced Matlock said with sincerity. Morrow echoed his thanks.

"Now," Admiral Morrow said with a tone of command in his voice, "to deal with the malefactors. It is 3:20 Starfleet time now. I want you, Ben, to call a full staff meeting of your division for 4:00. I'm sure, with the upgrades, you have several agenda items to discuss. We will have a small surprise in store for them."

Matlock nodded. "May I?" he asked, gesturing at the desktop communicator. Morrow nodded. Matlock punched in the code for Doncaster's office. "Ray? I'm in the Admiral's office, and he's expressed some interest in wanting to know how the upgrades are progressing. I'm calling a full staff meeting for 4:00. Let anyone whose shift ends then know they'll need to stay for it. I need to have answers. Everyone is to be there; no excused absences. That includes you and me. Tell Frank Oldenburger to bring his staffing database, too — we may need to move some people around to make sure everything gets done on schedule." He paused, listening. "Oh, one excused absence: Tricia Palmense should e-mail me whatever she's got done on the report she's working on; I approved her leaving early for a doctor's appointment while you and Allison were meeting Monday. No other exceptions, though." The pregnant Petty Officer was not on the list Oliver had sent Sarek.

"Well handled," Morrow said as Matlock ended the call. "Good idea on how to get Oldenburger's files." He turned the communicator unit towards himself, and punched in another number. "Barney? I want you to mobilize a double squad and meet me with them outside the Conference Room on Engineering floor at 4:05 — no sooner, no later. Sarek has handed us the opportunity to catch the worms in the apple bin; I want to make the most of it. Set Encryption Level 13." After a pause, a yellow light flickered indicating encryption was on. "Your mission will be first, to arrest five men who have given Starfleet restricted technology to a terrorist group they belong to, and second, to arrest a group of speculators skimming funds off Starfleet. Data follows." And with the skill of long practice, he connected a data port on the PADD Sarek had provided him with the communicator, and keyed in the data transfer.

Roger wilco," came the response. "Whee, that's a large group. I'll scramble a third squad from the Spaceport."

"Tell them, only, to report to you immediately, for orders," Morrow directed, with a tone of command in his voice. "I want nothing to give away what we're doing before time, and let any of them try to slip away."

Yessir!" came the response. Morrow ended the call abruptly.

"If I may," Sarek said, gesturing at the communicator.

"Of course," Morrow replied.

Sarek punched in a code. There appeared on the screen a robust, very fit looking Vulcan in middle age, dressed in solid black. Behind him were the sparse trappings of a Vulcan meditation room, and a large window that overlooked the Bay Bridge.

"R'Kau, I have need of your services," Sarek said. "But I conclude you have anticipated me, from your being in uniform."

"Only that c'thia indicated that the time for action was near, old friend," the VSO operative replied. "Even kolinahr does not foretell the future."

"Join me here at Starfleet Headquarters," Sarek instructed him. "I need your aid in avenging my fallen children."

"It shall be as you say, Patriarch," R'Kau answered. "Live long and prosper." He ended the call.

Sarek's expression could have cut through steel. "I hand you a weapon, Harrison. R'Kau is able to find hidden truths, though not without pain to those who would hide them. Use him wisely!"

---

Florida Mall Food Court

Mickey smiled contentedly as he watched his brothers, Rina, Jed, and C.J. return to the table laden with trays brimful of food. Jed, adventurous, had tried Manchu Wok; Raffy had a plateful from Sbarro's; Rina had combined a plate of crepes with a Tropicana Smoothie.

He thought back about how much his life had changed in the past two weeks: from being a 16-year-old high school junior, he was now a legal adult, had been paraplegic and in despair and then healed by Peter, was guardian and father figure to his two little brothers, one of whom now had a boyfriend, a member of Clan Short, and last but definitely not least, in love with, engaged to, and as of today, living with a beautiful young woman who had stolen his heart.

Raffy and C.J began talking a mile a minute about what had attracted their attention in the mall. Mickey loaned them one ear and grinned at Sylvia, who was obviously doing the same, and delighted with it. "Thanks so much, for everything, Sylvia," he said.

"Oh, pfft, Mickey," she answered. "You know just as well as I do, what all this means to me." A warm smile, and she turned her attention to her own Southwest Chicken. Mickey looked around at the large crowd using the food court.

A sudden commotion at a table partway across the food court riveted everyone's attention. The five boys jumped to their feet, and began moving towards them. Mickey motioned Raffy to him. "Hang back a bit," he said, "and call for help if we need it. You'll be more help that way than in the middle of a fight or something else physical." Raffy looked recalcitrant; Mickey said, "Team, huh?" in a tone that reminded Raffy they worked together. Raffy smiled and nodded.

Three older, belligerent punks had tripped a boy of about Jared's age, and were laughing at him as he tried to collect his fallen food. Another, younger blond boy was closing on them with fire in his eye. Mickey was about to signal Raffy to summon help when the blond boy pulled what looked like a cellphone from his pocket, punched a single digit into it, and said, "Dad, Lee's being picked on again. We need help!"

Mickey, Jed, and Jared closed the remaining distance, and each grabbed one of the punks, pulling him off the boy they had tripped — who now appeared to be an older blond, very slender and somewhat fragile looking. One of the punks elbowed Jed in his stomach and made to break away.

"Hold it right there!" Mickey called out, as he pinned the arms of the largest of the three behind his back. The boy froze, then made as if to run.

"Freeze or you'll regret it!" Jed called out, inwardly cursing his still high-pitched voice. "This is a Clan Short intervention." The boy started to run, and was tripped by a woman sitting at a table on his line of flight as C.J. dived for his feet.

Two Starfleet Security men beamed into the open space just behind Jared. One of them ordered, "Freeze, all of you!" with his phaser out, while the other called out, "Lee, are you all right?"

"Yeah, Dad," the blond boy said. "Ralph, Newly, and Eddy tripped me and were picking on me while I tried to get my food back together and get up. These other three I don't know, but they came to my rescue."

"They said they're from Clan Short, Dad!" the younger blond said with hero worship in his voice.

"Yessir," Jed said firmly. "I'm Jed Templeton, that's my brother, C.J. over there wrapped around the legs of that kid, and the other two are Mickey and Jared McKendrick. Here's my Clan I.D." as he pulled out his wallet and extracted it.

"March those two over here!" the Security man who was not 'Dad' said. Mickey and Jared complied. "You on the floor — you want to walk over here, or do you have to be coaxed?"

"I'll walk," the boy said, belligerently. Two Mall security men came running up. slowing when they saw the Starfleet men. "Do you have this under control?" one called out. The man addressed by the boys as 'Dad' signaled yes.

"Thanks, Hank," 'Dad' said to the other Starfleet man. Turning to Jed, he said, "Ensign Gary Carlson, Starfleet Security, at your service, Mr. Templeton." He glanced at the three punks with a sour look and continued, "I guess we need to sort out who wants to claim jurisdiction here. I can say that Lee will be pressing charges." He looked meaningfully at his older son.

"Dad, I don't want to get them in trouble!" Lee said.

"They got themselves in trouble by that stunt," Jared said. "I know how you feel; nobody wants to rat out other kids, but nobody should have to put up with that sort of harassment either."

"This is the fourth time in a week," the younger brother said. "You can't go on brushing it off; they've gotta be stopped before they really hurt you." Ensign Carlson looked startled at that.

"We can only hold 'em until Orlando City P.D. gets here," one of the mall guards said. "It's up to them whether to charge them."

The Starfleet man called 'Hank' spoke up. "We can lay charges based on the fact that Lee is the dependent of a Starfleet officer. But we try to avoid doing that when local officials can act."

Jed had been reviewing the Safe Haven Act's provisions in his mind, where Xain and the Double J's had planted it. "I don't see where we can use the Safe Haven Act in this case. These guys were being jerks, sure, but it's obvious that Ensign Carlson loves his son, and he's not at risk that way."

Raffy spoke up. "What they did constitutes abuse, right?" Ensign Carlson slowly nodded yes, not sure where this was going. "Then use the Clan Short Charter," he said firmly. "Lee's in need of help because of abuse; that justifies us helpin' him." A smile spreading across his face, Mickey nodded, followed by the others.

The mall security men looked puzzled. "You're letting a little kid make decisions about arrests?"

Carlson turned to him. "As of last Saturday, these boys have the power to tell the rest of us what to do. Subject to review by their Patriarch and Ambassador Sarek, that is. But I worked with Clan Short a month ago on a murder-suicide-abuse case that still gives me nightmares, and I'll trust their good judgment, young as they are." He turned back to Raffy. "What do you suggest?"

Raffy was a bit taken aback by being handed the authority to make the decision. He paused in thought. "Well, first would be finding them guilty. Do they want to plead guilty to what we witnessed here, or shall we call for telepaths to find out what all they've done — which sounds like plenty, from what he said," he gestured at the younger brother as he finished.

"Your choice, boys," said 'Hank' to the three. They exchanged worried looks, then one said, "We'll plead."

"Okay, then," Raffy said. "They oughta buy Lee what he spilled on the floor. Then they promise never to pick on him again, or anybody else either, for that matter. Then — how long will it take you guys to write up what happened?" he asked the Starfleet men.

"It'll be done by tomorrow morning," Ensign Carlson answered.

"Okay," Raffy said. "Send a copy to Judge Jamie at the Family Court. He can decide what they need to do to make up for what they did. Have them go to his court tomorrow afternoon and ask him what they need to do."

"Good move," Ensign Carlson said. He turned to the three detainees. "You boys have the right to refuse that sentence. If you do, though, you'll be detained and locked up until a judge sentences you — probably their Patriarch, since Clan Short has taken jurisdiction. And I have a strong hunch you don't want to go to Juvy, do you?"

"N-no," one of the boys said with mixed truculence and fear.

"Okay, then: carry out the terms of your sentence. First, pool your money and go buy Lee a replacement meal."

"I don't got any money on me," one of them said.

"I'll cover your share, Newly," another said. "But you're paying me back!" The first one met eyes with him.

"Okay. C'mon, Lee," the second said. "I'm coming with you," Mickey said firmly.

'Hank' spoke up. "Something's needed first," he said. "All three of you need to give your word in front of me, a Starfleet officer, and these boys from Clan Short, that you will not harass anyone, from now on — and then keep your word. That was a condition of what this boy specified, and you will abide by it."

"Wait," Jared interjected. He looked at 'Newly' and said, "What do you swear by?" to him.

"My grandmother's grave," Newly answered.

"And you?" turning to the boy who had offered to pay Newly's share.

"The Bible," he answered.

The third boy, the one who had run and been tripped, guffawed. "Ralph doesn't believe in the Bible," he said.

"Okay, how about you?" Jared asked him.

The third boy, evidently Eddy, gulped. Hank, Jared, and Mickey folded their arms and waited, quite meaningfully.

"My mother's life," Eddy finally admitted, shamefacedly.

"What does Ralph swear by that means he'll keep his word?" Jared asked.

"I don't know if there's anything," Eddy said. Hank fondled the handcuffs attached to his belt while looking at Ralph with a steely expression.

"Um — " Ralph paused.

"All right," Jared said. "You two..." he gestured at Eddy and Newly "...swear as you specified."

"Um, I swear by my grandmother's grave," Newly said nervously, "that I won't pick on Lee again."

"...or anyone else," Jared said firmly.

"...or anyone else," Newly echoed. A pause. "Your turn, Eddy," he said.

"I swear on my mother's life," Eddy said earnestly, "that I won't pick on Lee, or anybody else, from now on." He looked scared, his earlier bravado completely gone.

"All right, Ralph, come with me," Hank said, as he grasped the boy's arm firmly. "You two and Lee," he addressed Eddy and Newly, "follow us." He marched Ralph away in the direction of the concession where Lee had bought his food; the boys followed.

One of the Mall security men said, "Looks like you have this under control," and motioned his companion to walk away with him.

Ensign Carlson nodded agreement, then turned to the five Clan boys. "Thank you for stepping in to help my son," he said warmly. "Do you happen to know Lt. Brady Thompson? His nephews are in the Clan, and he and I worked together on the Winters case at the end of September."

Jed spoke up. "I know all his nephews, and Lawrence Winters too. In fact, Kenny was almost my first friend in the Clan. These guys are brothers, and they're newer to the Clan, though I've known them since, like, forever."

"Except me!" C.J. piped up.

"C.J.'s Jed's little brother," Mickey amplified. "I'm Mickey McKendrick, and these are my younger brothers Jared and Raffy."

"Wow, I can't believe you tackled Eddy!" the younger blond boy said to C.J. "I'd have never risked it, and you're even younger than me!"

"I had backup — I knew these guys would help me," C.J. said modestly. "It wasn't very long ago I wouldn't've risked it either."

"Oh, this is my younger son Alonzo," Ensign Carlson said by way of introduction.

"Lonnie, Dad!" the boy said, obviously disliking his given name.

"Hi, Lonnie, pleased to meet you," Jared said, extending his hand, which Lonnie took and shook. The other four went through the same ritual, as Carlson looked on with pleasure.

They were interrupted by Hank returning with Lee and his three erstwhile tormentors.

"Lonnie, are these three the only boys that have picked on Lee?" Carlson asked sternly.

"Um..." Lonnie said, rather embarrassed at being put on the spot to name names.

Eddy spoke up. "Hey, I'm not going to take the fall by myself. There's like a dozen guys that have been riding Lee. We got caught, that's all," he finished defiantly.

"All right," Ensign Carlson said, "it won't do any harm to tell you one of the conditions I am going to ask Judge Robison to place on your probation — in addition to leaving Lee alone yourselves, your job will be to prevent or halt any other harassment he gets. I'll expect you to give names tomorrow. " A steadfast nod from Eddy and a gulp from Newly were the response. "You two going to keep your word?"

"Yessir!" from both boys.

"Then get going — I expect you out of the mall altogether in ten minutes," he finished. Relief clear on their faces, they took off.

"I think a night in Juvy will be instructive for this one," Hank said, indicating Ralph. Carlson nodded, and Hank called for transport.

"You two going to be okay now?" Carlson asked his sons. They nodded yes.

Mickey spoke up. "I think it might be a good idea for them to join us, if that's okay with you, sir. We're at a table right over there," he gestured, pointing out where Rina and Sylvia stood, watching the scene worriedly.

"You know, I think that might be a good idea," Carlson said, smiling.

"You two willing to come sit with us and hang out?" Mickey asked. Lee's response was a wan smile; Lonnie grinned and nodded yes emphatically.

"Then I'll join Hank and Public Enemy Number One here and head back to H.Q. See you two after shift, okay?" Carlson said to his sons.

"Okay, Dad!" Lonnie said. Carlson turned to leave with Hank and Ralph. Mickey smiled and motioned them to follow Raffy, who was excitedly headed back to Sylvia and Rina.

---

Martin House, Arkham

"The guys told me — when they were forming up for the march, before we beamed down, St. Mikey appeared and called Adam Casey and Adam Short up front. And he stripped off their shirts and showed their scars to everybody!" Bobby was bubbling with enthusiasm for what had happened in Charleston. "And then Jondo, I mean Jimmy, and that Joel kid came running up to stand with their brothers, and stripped their own shirts off to show their scars alongside them."

"That doesn't sound like Jondo," Grace said. "He was always shy about his body — though with what those bastards did to him, I can understand it. I miss the little twerp!"

"I do too," Bobby said. "But I guess I'm glad he's back with his brothers. But the point to the whole thing seems to have been to show the guys from the Unit and the Clan that they're more alike than they are different — and Jondo doing that kind of said something important."

"The boy had guts, I'll give him that," Grace said. "You could see he was hurting — inside and out, but he never let on. Even when I had to massage that cream into his scars, and it must have pulled on his skin badly, he'd take it without a peep."

Skipper had other things on his mind. "I'm positive that was Brandon Jessup and his brother, there with the Unit guys. And that worries me."

"Yeah, it sure looked like them to me, too," Bobby added vehemently.

"I won't rest until I've got some answers about that — if it was them, why they were there, all that," Skipper said firmly.

"Well, use a little common sense," Grace said reasonably. "You two have those commbadges they gave you yesterday, and you're part of the Clan now, entitled to ask questions about stuff like that. So ask!"

Skipper and Bobby had matching "d'oh" expressions on their faces. "I forgot about them!" Bobby said.

Skipper was more to the point. He retrieved his commbadge from where it was sitting alongside his emergency kit, and touched it. "Skipper Hamilton to C.I.C." he said firmly.

"Hey Skipper, this is Seth. What'd'you need?"

"Information," Skipper replied. "We've got a question about two boys we think we saw at the funeral service, with some guys from the Unit. Names are Brandon and Andrew Jessup. They're from up around here, and we want to know what's going on."

Hang on just a minute, while I retrieve data," Seth answered, smiling at the redheaded Prince sitting across from him.

"Okay, got it," he continued. "Daileass updated files this morning. They were extracted last night for medical treatment following ongoing abuse by their grandfather, by the Trinity from Montana and the Tiny Terrors from the Unit, in response to the Trinity's request for help. Jonas and Harry from your division were present for the extraction."

"Ah, OK," Skipper said. "I wish we'd known." A pause. "What's going to happen to them?"

"I don't know for sure — looks like they're being housed at Camp Bam Bam right now."

Bobby's emotions were up. "We need to take care of 'em — not let them go into whatever the Unit has in mind!"

"Chill, mugwump! You know Adam and his crew will do their best for 'em!" Skipper was doing his best to calm his younger lover down.

"No way, Jose!" Bobby wasn't hearing it. "They're from here; they're our responsibility. Yeah, Adam and Chang and them are good guys — but they're Maine boys; they belong back here!"

"Jonas and Harry are at Camp Bam Bam right now, meeting with Logan," Seth said across the commbadge. "Will it help if I relay your wishes to them, through Daileass?"

Skipper looked at Bobby's face. "Yeah, do it. Please. My partner here has his mind set on taking care of them somehow."

"Message sent" came from Seth.

"Thanks, Seth. Skipper out," he said and terminated the call.

"Now look what you've got us into," Skipper said with a grin, and moved rapidly across the room, pinning Bobby and tickling him.

"Hey! No fair!" Bobby cried out in mock fear, squirming and tickling back.

A few minutes of horseplay left the two disheveled and in obvious states of arousal.

"Okay, you two, take it upstairs!" Grace said laughingly.

"Sounds fine by me!" Skipper said with a leer at the younger blond boy.

"You gotta catch me first!" Bobby responded as he squirmed free and ran for the stairs, stopping at the bottom step to moon Skipper.

Skipper laughed and ran after Bobby as he scrambled up the stairs. Grace laughed and shook her head fondly. 'To hell with the people who think it's not right,' she thought to herself. 'I'm just so glad my boy has someone as good as Skipper in his life!"