"Home is the hunter, home from the hills; and the sailor home from the sea"
--Henry Wordsworth Longfellow
--Henry Wordsworth Longfellow
[Spaceport, Vulcana Regar]
It had been two standard years, one-hundred thirty-five days and seventeen point three-seven hours. As the tall, dark Vulcan stepped off the shuttle and out into the hot, fragrant air, he inhaled deeply. There was a subtle adjustment of his body that seemed to settle his muscles more comfortably against his bones, and although he moved with the same easy grace as always, there was almost a lightness in his step as he crossed the tarmac towards the low, golden buildings.
Home.
Home.
As expected, the flitter was already waiting and the driver had obviously been instructed to use priority protocols because they made for the upper traffic lanes at astonishing speed and without having to wait as much as 1.2 seconds for clearance.
It was just as well.
Dark eyes scanned the copper and golden towers of the House of Merchants and the Regar Currency Exchange.
"Osu. Ak'lasha etek."
"Ha, yetursu. Ni nam-tor."
The fast little craft swooped down towards a low, sprawling complex and did not bother with the landing pads in front of the stone columns, but swerved towards the side and disappeared into what by all accounts looked like a silent little courtyard. Well, no time for the scenic route today it seemed.
Even before the engines had shut down, the young man was inside the building and moved soundlessly through familiar corridors.
A few silent greetings were exchanged and finally Sovar stood in a dimly lit office where a stone faced Vulcan whose iron gray hair was the only indication of an age past two hundred was studying a holographic screen.
"Satal du na'nash-veh, s`haile." the young dark-haired one bowed politely and then waited just inside the closed doors, letting his level gaze linger on the Spartan elegance of the desk and the warm red stone underneath.
The elder Vulcan did not look up but made a minute inviting gesture before touching something on the screen.
It was just as well.
Dark eyes scanned the copper and golden towers of the House of Merchants and the Regar Currency Exchange.
"Osu. Ak'lasha etek."
"Ha, yetursu. Ni nam-tor."
The fast little craft swooped down towards a low, sprawling complex and did not bother with the landing pads in front of the stone columns, but swerved towards the side and disappeared into what by all accounts looked like a silent little courtyard. Well, no time for the scenic route today it seemed.
Even before the engines had shut down, the young man was inside the building and moved soundlessly through familiar corridors.
A few silent greetings were exchanged and finally Sovar stood in a dimly lit office where a stone faced Vulcan whose iron gray hair was the only indication of an age past two hundred was studying a holographic screen.
"Satal du na'nash-veh, s`haile." the young dark-haired one bowed politely and then waited just inside the closed doors, letting his level gaze linger on the Spartan elegance of the desk and the warm red stone underneath.
The elder Vulcan did not look up but made a minute inviting gesture before touching something on the screen.
"Your reports have been satisfactory."
Sovar acknowledged the compliment with another half-bow and continued to wait in complete stillness. This was certainly not about a debriefing or those reports which he knew all to well had been completely satisfactory. But something else he knew all to well was that the man behind the desk would make his reasons known when he chose to.
Finally, those dark, old eyes looked up at him and regarded him in silence for awhile.
"You have requested information about the ship that carries she who is your kin."
"Yes." His features were perfectly unmoved although under different circumstances one of his slanted brows might have climbed just by the fraction of a centimeter. "I was not aware the information is classified."
"It is not." Another brief touch to the screen and the Vulcan script rolling across it changed while the screen itself turned slightly towards the young man who read the elegant letters with a practiced eye. "This, however, is."
Sovar acknowledged the compliment with another half-bow and continued to wait in complete stillness. This was certainly not about a debriefing or those reports which he knew all to well had been completely satisfactory. But something else he knew all to well was that the man behind the desk would make his reasons known when he chose to.
Finally, those dark, old eyes looked up at him and regarded him in silence for awhile.
"You have requested information about the ship that carries she who is your kin."
"Yes." His features were perfectly unmoved although under different circumstances one of his slanted brows might have climbed just by the fraction of a centimeter. "I was not aware the information is classified."
"It is not." Another brief touch to the screen and the Vulcan script rolling across it changed while the screen itself turned slightly towards the young man who read the elegant letters with a practiced eye. "This, however, is."
"I see."
On first glance, the information had little to nothing to do with what they had been talking about. Logic however dictated that there was a connection and the implications lent a dark shade to Sovar's even baritone.
"Does she know?"
"She has made her position quite clear. Sending classified data to one who wishes to have no connection with the agency is highly illogical, no?"
The screen now changed from technical data to reports submitted by the Science Council and - an official protest logged by T'Meni herself. Interesting.
"And yet, I am here."
"You are." The olive skinned man with the deep, sonorous voice nodded slowly.
"It is quite clear that your logic is uncertain where she is concerned. However, the agency cannot ignore a potential asset. Or liability."
On first glance, the information had little to nothing to do with what they had been talking about. Logic however dictated that there was a connection and the implications lent a dark shade to Sovar's even baritone.
"Does she know?"
"She has made her position quite clear. Sending classified data to one who wishes to have no connection with the agency is highly illogical, no?"
The screen now changed from technical data to reports submitted by the Science Council and - an official protest logged by T'Meni herself. Interesting.
"And yet, I am here."
"You are." The olive skinned man with the deep, sonorous voice nodded slowly.
"It is quite clear that your logic is uncertain where she is concerned. However, the agency cannot ignore a potential asset. Or liability."
For just the briefest of moments, the tall, lithe young man experienced a flash of anger. And although neither his face or voice showed any of it, he had to concede at least the fact that his reaction was unreasonable.
"And you wish to know where her loyalties are? Or is it rather," his hands tightened behind his back "that you are uncertain about mine?"
"And you wish to know where her loyalties are? Or is it rather," his hands tightened behind his back "that you are uncertain about mine?"
No, the elder was fully aware of just how unpredictable she who was his kin could truly be. Not even Sovar had anticipated she would request this one ship out of all the possibilities open to her. Although on reflection, maybe he should not have been surprised.
Calm old eyes regarded him for a moment in the dimly lit room, but the younger Vulcan was one of the few people not intimidated by this presence. Impressed by just how sharp the mind behind that impassive face was, yes.
But other than that… he pointed his chin towards the screen which had stopped at a set of spatial coordinates "And if that is so, why did you show me this? One might consider that unwise, and unwise you certainly are not."
Calm old eyes regarded him for a moment in the dimly lit room, but the younger Vulcan was one of the few people not intimidated by this presence. Impressed by just how sharp the mind behind that impassive face was, yes.
But other than that… he pointed his chin towards the screen which had stopped at a set of spatial coordinates "And if that is so, why did you show me this? One might consider that unwise, and unwise you certainly are not."
"Indeed." another light touch to the desk made the screen disappear into nothingness and the gray haired Vulcan folded his hands under his chin.
"However, you are a resourceful individual and there is a 84.7 % probability you would have acquired at least part of this information whether I approved or not. If you must endure a conflict of loyalty you should be in possession of all the facts, yes? And as I pointed out, she may become an asset after all. The choice in the matter is yours, since there is none better qualified to assess the situation."
"However, you are a resourceful individual and there is a 84.7 % probability you would have acquired at least part of this information whether I approved or not. If you must endure a conflict of loyalty you should be in possession of all the facts, yes? And as I pointed out, she may become an asset after all. The choice in the matter is yours, since there is none better qualified to assess the situation."
So he was sparing him the potential conflict by freely giving not only the information, but leaving open whether and even how much of it to share.
And in turn decide whether he wanted to inflict the same trouble on the one he … on her.
What would she do? For the life of him, he did not know. Even if years had not passed since he'd last seen her, it would have been difficult to say. Now, it was nearly impossible. Was she still the same?
"I will inform you of my decision."
And in turn decide whether he wanted to inflict the same trouble on the one he … on her.
What would she do? For the life of him, he did not know. Even if years had not passed since he'd last seen her, it would have been difficult to say. Now, it was nearly impossible. Was she still the same?
"I will inform you of my decision."
A brief nod and the young Vulcan knew he was dismissed. Pivoting around after another graceful bow, he made his way back into the brightly lit corridors, open to anyone who wished to visit the ancient building complex and walked back towards the flitter.
His demeanor was that of a man deep in thought, but if one looked closely, people seemed to step out of the dark robed one's way with rather undue haste.
His demeanor was that of a man deep in thought, but if one looked closely, people seemed to step out of the dark robed one's way with rather undue haste.
[Later that evening, somewhere in Shi'Kahr]
The terrace provided a magnificent view of not only the Old Quarter but the desert outside the city gates and far in the distance, the hills of Kir where T'Khut was now rising in all her garish beauty.
Just behind the tall, dark robed figure standing by the balustrade, Nevasa set in a marvelous display of magenta, gold and shades of amethyst, but Sovar was blind to all the splendor.
The evening winds tugged on his heavy robe as he heard familiar footsteps approach.
"So, it is you." Astonishing, how soft that voice could be when she chose to make it so "Welcome home."
He turned to face his friend, calmly extending his hands towards the smaller woman whose long ebony hair was fluttering loosely in the breeze.
"T'Para."
"Sovar."
Just behind the tall, dark robed figure standing by the balustrade, Nevasa set in a marvelous display of magenta, gold and shades of amethyst, but Sovar was blind to all the splendor.
The evening winds tugged on his heavy robe as he heard familiar footsteps approach.
"So, it is you." Astonishing, how soft that voice could be when she chose to make it so "Welcome home."
He turned to face his friend, calmly extending his hands towards the smaller woman whose long ebony hair was fluttering loosely in the breeze.
"T'Para."
"Sovar."
Through the current of the mind-touch, she sensed precisely where his thoughts were and her eyes drifted towards the stars that began twinkling right behind the watcher's rising bulk.
"You have heard?" the young woman's quirked brow betrayed her amusement, but there was also a shade of concern lingering. It was not like him to be so unsettled and logic dictated there was more to his request to meet than a simple reunion of friends.
"Heard?"
"The Rufo-Tyrax system. Lady Lhorexa is most pleased."
"Indeed."
Sovar took a deep breath of the evening air, then let it out slowly as he regarded the young woman next to him who was now leaning against the balustrade, her small, lithe frame outlined against T'Khut's coppery light.
"I require your counsel, T'Para."
"I am honored." She gave the traditional reply and inclined her head ever so slightly. "What has our ne ki'ne done this time?"
For a brief moment, a surge of humor overshadowed the young man's dark thoughts. "Dungau gla-tor etek, T'Para."
"You have heard?" the young woman's quirked brow betrayed her amusement, but there was also a shade of concern lingering. It was not like him to be so unsettled and logic dictated there was more to his request to meet than a simple reunion of friends.
"Heard?"
"The Rufo-Tyrax system. Lady Lhorexa is most pleased."
"Indeed."
Sovar took a deep breath of the evening air, then let it out slowly as he regarded the young woman next to him who was now leaning against the balustrade, her small, lithe frame outlined against T'Khut's coppery light.
"I require your counsel, T'Para."
"I am honored." She gave the traditional reply and inclined her head ever so slightly. "What has our ne ki'ne done this time?"
For a brief moment, a surge of humor overshadowed the young man's dark thoughts. "Dungau gla-tor etek, T'Para."
His gaze followed hers out towards the stars and for several seconds they stood in companionable silence.
"It is of what may come to pass that I wish to speak with you. And of loyalties."
Calmly, she lifted her face to look into his dark, troubled eyes.
"Afsaka'uh."
"It is of what may come to pass that I wish to speak with you. And of loyalties."
Calmly, she lifted her face to look into his dark, troubled eyes.
"Afsaka'uh."
[End Log]
Sovar
V`shar tra-lan
V`shar tra-lan
T'Para
V`ket ne`zhel-lan
V`ket ne`zhel-lan
(NPCs apb I-Chaya)
Ne ki'ne (anc. Golic) - lit. shield partner/wingman.
Implies a lifelong bond of friendship and absolute trust, similar to the better known t`hy`la. The fact that this word is firmly rooted in Vulcan's violent past has led to it falling out of favor in post-reformation times, however it carries no stigma and is in fact considered a logical choice for the few Vulcans who have chosen a path within a military service.
