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"...Do you mean that literally?"

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"Define 'literally'."

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"Would literal cleaning supplies of any kind have been useful after the fact? Would Renée have screamed?"

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"If I had resisted arrest? Both of those are possible," he says. "Nothing's certain. I could have tried, I could have not tried, I could have succeeded, I could have failed. They could have ignored me completely. We're never going to know. But almost no matter how it fell out, it would've involved more of a metaphorical mess than breaking you out of prison. This way, there's just no way for them to tell that you were the target of the breakout in the first place - that it wasn't one of the hundreds of friends of the hundred-odd politically active hackers that just escaped with you, or someone trying to stir up shit against the Federation. After all, as far as they know, you don't even have any criminal contacts."

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"I'm probably not even the highest priority for recapture."

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"Not by a long shot, especially if they assume that it's one of the others who was responsible for the whole thing. You can bet they'll be incredibly keen on patching the security holes I slipped through."

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"No doubt. I love you, and may say so an absurd amount for the next while, because I didn't get to for months and I wanted to."

Snuggle.
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"I love you too. Say it as much as you want."

Snuggle cuddle!
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Telepathic saying-so will at least add variety, right?

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Yes. Also it will not conflict with kisses.

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An important quality!

"I wonder what there is to do on Davlia," she murmurs a bit later. "We already gave them the warp equations. That was - what I did, for the most part. I suppose you can teach me languages all day."
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"Klingon, Davlian, Cardassian... and of course the warp drive isn't the only Federation scientific advance that we can sneak under the table," he laughs.

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"As long as I've already been caught, why not."

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He giggles and kisses her.

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Kisses! Lots of kisses. There are months to make up for.

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Months and months. And it's a long way to Davlia.

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A long, long way.



Of course it's not infinitely far, especially at warp, and eventually, they're there.

"You have more of the language retained than I do, I'm sure," she says. "Do you want to do the talking?"
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"Of course."

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"I suppose it's safe to land, if they've been in talks with the Federation already."

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"I was planning on it," he agrees.

And indeed, no one gives them any trouble on the way down.
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They land in pastoral countryside, spread with some white-flowered crop. A small Davlian child is sitting nearby and watches the ship descend in fascination, hoofed feet stretched out in front of her, little twirly horns peeping out from her hair.

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"I have yet to find a species whose children aren't adorable," comments Lalita. "I think I'll go say hi."

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"Okay," says Isabella, and she follows him out.

The child sits quite calmly as they approach.
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"Hello," Lalita says cheerfully in the local dialect.

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"Hello, sky people," she calls back.

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