=/\= T'Shen monastery, Shi'Al province =/\=
17th Day in the month of et'Khior, YS 9022
He had come for her. Ah, she had known he would, known with the unshakable certainty of her race acknowledging a simple truth. But once more, her beloved had gone beyond even what she had thought he would, and the words 'I should have expected that' formed in her mind, unbidden.
A million questions, a myriad of matters unsolved.
But here and now, it was good.
Closing her eyes, Sakarra exhaled and let her cheek rest against the warm, steadily moving chest.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow there would be questions.
Right here, right now, the rain was falling over T'Shen and time lost all meaning.
And it was good.
Brent watched the little exchange between two females as he took the cloth from the healer and nodded his head. "Thank you, and thank you for helping me with my shoulder. It weathered that storm of hauling my beloved around quite well. I can barely feel the pain," he said as he smiled at the young healer, before he began to attend to his love then and there. The cloth gently moved over the wounded parts of her back and where he could find areas that needed healing. He heeded the words of the healer and ignored the portions of Sakarra's back that were too devastated by the disruptor to heal by such methods. Perhaps a trip to a Starfleet doctor might help the recovery? Either way it was up to her now that she was awakened.
Brent pressed a kiss to the back of her neck and let out a sigh. He felt her sensation that everything was indeed alright and he agreed. 'When you want to hear about what happened, while you were out my love. You simply have to ask,' he said over their shared bond. He looked over at T'Para before he smirked. "I imagine you have several stories that you could tell me about my beloved. Ones that might be considered embarrassing." He smirked at the idea. "I think that now, while we are here alone aside from the healer that I imagine is bound to strict confidence. Would be an excellent time to discuss them."
Shoulder?
Ah, with all the myriad of aches in her own body she had not even sensed it. Though she should have noticed his usually fluid motions, his predatory grace being … unbalanced.
'There is but one thing I need to know right now, and that is whether you will be … alright, ashal-veh.' Noting the graceful bow of the young healer acknowledging the offered gratitude, Sakarra could not suppress a brief flare of mirth as puzzle pieces came together, explaining … well the state of both of them earlier. Though one day she might have to ask him what had happened to the poor girl's robes. The story was like to be … interesting.
"A human ritual, Brent Warren?" T'Para's quirked brow radiated amusement like fire does warmth but a near imperceptible nod of her ne`ki'ne made her almost mirror the smirk on the Marine's face. "Stories there are many, as I am certain you would have some to tell, yes?" Splashing about as cheerfully as only a very pregnant Vulcan in the soothing warmth and near weightlessness of a bath can, the young V'Ket examined the food with a critical eye "Of course my favorite has always been the one leading to a charge of piracy. Followed closely by the diplomatic incident involving some flightless birds and I believe a half eaten dress."
Brent stopped washing Sakarra's wounds for just a moment. He gave the back of her head a look of disbelief before he shook his head and chuckled slightly. He let out a sigh, before responding to her. 'When we were taking the Charon back I had to rescue my marines my dear. I got weapons to a few of them in the cargo bay... Then we took the captors down. I took the hardest part, the upper levels, because I still had my armor on. I took a direct shot on my shoulder after having lost my shields, the armor itself probably kept the worst of it away. The doctors healed me up just fine, but have told me to take it easy on it. And I swear to you I was! Up until you refused to come out from your healing trance.'
"Something like that. Normally done over an excessive amount of alcohol. Which I think given my current company would be ill advised. So I will simply employ it here while we are bathing in the comfortable heat." Leaning over Brent picked up one of the trays before offering it to Sakarra, indicating that she should eat something. "Piracy, diplomatic incidents, half-eaten dresses, flightless birds?" He moved his head around to see that Sakarra could very well have a view of his amused look before he turned to T'Para. "I would love to hear that story, and in return I am certain that here I could come up with one on my own as well."
Taking Charon back. Well, logic alone had suggested as much, seeing as they were here and alive. But there was much, much more … much that was left unsaid.
Still, she knew he would not lie, not to her, and certainly not in the embrace of minds.
Flashes, images, impressions.
He was hiding them, and hiding them well, and she did not have the heart to be insistent, to make him share the darkness lingering under the surface.
Not yet. Not now.
'Then I suggest you allow V'Ley to take a look at it … again. I should hate to think your injury was aggravated because I am such a … deep sleeper.'
"Alcohol? Ah, yes, it seems an integral part of human ceremony as far as I understand. However I should strongly caution you of leaving said excessive amounts at your mate's disposal." Giving a small nod of silent approval over not only the marine urging Sakarra to eat but her near-sister actually heeding the request, T'Para picked some of the spiced bread off a hammered copper dish and sniffed it cautiously "As alcohol and the mentioned stories happen to be coincidental. By the way, did the Lady Lhorexa ever answer the Klingon's official marriage proposal?"
The way Sakarra seemed to try and not choke on the piece of yon-savas made clear she hadn't even known "Ah. Just as well. You see, Brent Warren, for reasons I cannot quite say I comprehend, your mate and some of her Betazoid kin found it prudent to visit a bar of ill repute on Wrigley's Pleasure Planet, and Sakarra found it necessary to defend her friends from some rather rude individuals. After Miss Olixinna used a barstool as missile, or Mister Okalan was used as same, the details seem unclear. In any case, a Klingon gentleman appeared to be the most cheerful fighter and thus drew your mate's attention. Or perhaps it was the fact he attempted to use her bottle of whiskey to hit someone. Seeing as the fight by then had spilled to three other bars and drawn the attention of local law enforcement, the Betazoids saw fit to commandeer a police cruiser before it was stolen by someone else."
The bread was examined once more and found satisfactory, so T'Para made short work of it and proceeded to pour some cold water for the four of them "Thus the piracy charge. Although I believe it was rescinded on account of them returning the cruiser to the police station. Not in very good shape, seeing as neither was in any state to fly at the time, however the intent was held in their favor. Still, the reports of a rather irate Vulcanoid causing a fair amount of mayhem led to an arrest until the Lady Yulana Enaren could be summoned. Which reminds me- was she the one with the melon?"
"Pineapple. And it was grandmother."
"Ah. Fascinating. And rather painful I should think"
"For a Ferengi? Yes, one may assume so."
If ever there was a Vulcan following a conversation with an expression of utter astonishment, V'Ley would have qualified for a demonstration. Not that she would ever go so far as to do more than blink. Repeatedly.
To continue arguing would only result in stern looks to him while the Healer would probably take it upon herself to work on his shoulder anyways. He nodded, before turning back to look at V'Ley and smiled at her again. "My shoulder is out of sorts again after that but of excitement. Could you assist me with it again, I would appreciate it," he said before turning his attention back to the two Vulcan women in the bath.
He held his expression as he watched the two of them discuss the events back and forth from one another. "Do you routinely get into bar fights my dear? I know of a few goods ones back on Earth that might not even remember me from when I did basic there," he said leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before she could potentially turn around to glare at him for his words.
[To be continued …]
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Executive Officer
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
USS Charon
