=/\= Malcolm was also on a call. “Is he bigger than when I last saw him?” he asked, referring to Declan, who was sitting on his mother’s lap. “That was yesterday. So, uh, I don’t think so. I see,” she gestured on her clavicle, mirroring where his insignia were on his uniform, “you didn’t resign or lose your commission.” She touched an old-fashioned skeleton key charm on a chain around her neck. The chain and the charm were both made of the same dull grey metal as Malcolm’s cuff. The key was a gift from him, and she never took it off. She touched it, sometimes, as she thought of him far away, across the light years. “I did not,” Malcolm said, “we all went to surface, and we all said our, our piece. I think Daranaean people understood. I just feel that people we intimately deal with should be committed to freedom as we are.”
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“I’m glad Captain Archer agreed with you on that,” she said, “and I certainly do. Your desire to stand up for what’s right is one of the many, many reasons why I love you.” She held up a bit of finger painted artwork. “I think this is a bunny. Is this a bunny?” she asked their son. “Doggie,” he replied. “That actually looks a bit like the people I met,” Malcolm said, “Daranaeans look a little like that but their ears aren’t as long.” He paused a moment and then looked at them both fondly. “If I had lost my position, I would have come straight home, you 131