Friday, November 5, 2010

[USS Charon] SD241011.05 || Joint Log "House of Healing" Part XIII || 1st Lt Brent Warren, LtCmdr Sakarra Tyrax

=/\=  T'Shen monastery, Shi'Al province =/\=
17th Day in the month of et'Khior, YS 9022



"Hey hey!" Brent said as she launched herself around him. His hands came around her gently, making sure not to touch any place that would cause her more undue injury. "You know I don't think your doctor/healer would like to see you do that," he said quietly but making no motions to move her away. Why would he? Really this had been the first time that he had held her close in over a week. He sighed, not quite sure how to respond to her, he didn't think that she had truly done anything wrong.

"No. No you haven't shamed me. Not in the least," he said gently trying to calm. "I suppose this is one of those times where our cultures don't meet up hm," he said his voice soft and comforting.  "You have not wronged me, or shamed my my love... And as for him. I sincerely doubt that punching through his skull after shattered his wrists somehow counts as mercy." He let out a breath, looking down at her, concerned that she would be alright. "No more talk of this alright?  You have healing to do, and you need to focus all of your energy on that."


She could have laughed and wept, kissed him with all the ardent fervor that tended to leave both of them breathless before punching him so hard even he gave that quiet grunt of feeling a significant impact.

She did neither.

Not because the wish wasn't overwhelming. Cultures 'not meeting up' indeed , and yet, and yet …

Soothing. Calming. Radiating concern without inundating her, smothering her with it.

For a second, Sakarra again nearly laughed. Notoriously difficult to persuade, nigh impossible to bend to anyone's will but her own, the Vulcan female has ever been a tantalizing, charming challenge to her counterpart. Ever it has been a game of skill and patience to be bonded to a Lady born under Nevasa's glare, and while there was no male on the planet who did not consider the rewards worth any effort, there also was not a-one who didn't at times despair of the fierce, stubborn beauties.

What some of them wouldn't give to know this human's secret, this outworlder who led with such a gentle hand his beloved not only allowed it, but acquiesced with cheer and good grace.  


She nestled against her Companion's tall, muscular frame, breathing in his unique scent, still there, always there, even though it was now mingled with the subtle fragrance of their recent bath. "There are a great many things the healers do not like to see me do. And I shall admit I have rarely ever heeded them in the past. Logical to assume they will not be surprised if this pattern continues."

But he was right, of course. And only he would dare to display this gentle yet unyielding insistence.

For all that she was alive and breathing, Sakarra was also Vulcan and as such unwilling to deceive herself. As vulnerable and far from stable in both the physical and spiritual sense as she was, it would be wise to regain at least some measure of health before … focusing on other matters.


Like Nevasa leaning over the hills, a smile dawned on the raven haired woman's lips, lighting the clear, elegant profile until it took on the soft, tender expression few people were ever privileged to see. And this particular one was his alone.

"No more. As you wish, ashal-veh. However, there is ... a question I must ask now that we are … here. Rather unexpectedly, to be certain."


He was about to protest even more to help make his point, after she seemed to indicate that she would not be listening to the doctors advice. He stopped though giving her a bit of a disapproving look. However Sakarra seemed to calm, relaxing against him. He made sure that she wouldn't move around too much before he seemed to relax as well. He closed his eyes then, letting the moment of peace and relaxation overwhelm him. Her sudden change in demeanor made him happy, but then she went and asked him that question. His eyes opened up again as he looked over, wondering what she intended to ask him. "Of course. Anything you want my dear. Ask away."


It never failed to fascinate and mesmerize her, the quiet intensity of those deep blue eyes. Always, always, that split second of wonder, that heartbeat of joy. As if the moment this twilight blue gaze settled on her she became the center of his universe, and naught else was of consequence right then, right there.

In her heart, she knew the answer. But tradition, if not courtesy, required that she asked. If she hesitated for a silent, breathless moment, it was because she never once forgot that her beloved was … human. Different, as she had been reminded just now. And after what had happened …

"Ki'aymáh w'hesù, Brent Warren." Tender fingers traced his jawline, lingering "I have named you Companion. And after …" a glint of humor surfaced in night black eyes "most recent events, none will doubt who has the right to claim my favor. But this also means that she who is Eldest Mother of my House will wish to know my intent. When she asks, I should like to declare you w'hesù before her. Is this your wish?"


"Name me your Companion?" he smiled slightly. That was what she had been calling him for some time. He liked it, and the implication that it brought with it was something that made him swell with pride. The part of how no one would dare challenge her word made him smile. That part he definitely liked. Let those psycho ex-boyfriends of hers hear that. "I would be honored and delighted without words if you were to name me your companion." The thought made him pause for a moment though. "That's your grandmother, right," Brent said trying to remember everything that he had been told back on the Charon. Before all of this. It seemed like such a long time ago, such things were not always remembered right after such tragedy.


Though she inclined her head with the appropriate solemnity, Sakarra could not help the brief flare of tender humor. Not only deep satisfaction but pride enough that she could almost feel his chest puff out – and she could fair guess at the reasons. Or some, at least.

"She is."

T'Leia. Grandmother, Matriarch. And a myriad of other things, though those two were which mattered. Sakarra knew well enough that half the family expected Eldest Mother to take a special interest in the subject while the other half already exhibited signs of … concern. What wonder, when there were the indications of an unfortunate collision dawning on the horizon.

As it happened, none of them knew the nature of the male around whom the expected drama was to unfold. Even T'Para had only caught a mere glimpse, and had already shown that certain expression which told her near-sister she expected interesting things to happen.

"As you are no Vulcan I should mention that once I make my choice known the Matriarch is the one – the only one, to be certain - with the power to object, though no Challenge may be issued lest I announce intent to name you bond-mate."


"So in other words, your grandmother is the only one who can object properly in Vulcan society to your dating me," Brent said. "Better make a good first impression then," he muttered slightly before he went quiet for a few moments.  Lovely now the grandmother-in-law could make trouble for him.  He had a hard enough time getting along with his parents. Let alone someone else parents or their grandparents. "All in due time I suppose," he said quietly. "Hypothetically if I did ask you to marry me. What do you think she would say?"


If Sakarra was at all startled by the inquiry, it showed only in a subtle widening of liquid-black eyes. Of course he had made … passing references to human mating rituals, most of them good humored and some to reinforce a tender gesture, others to convey the depth of an emotion. But never asked this directly. Even if it was merely to probe the proverbial waters. And she knew all too well his own family hoped that after he had gotten over youth's folly he would come to his senses and return to the colony, marry a local woman and fulfill his duty by begetting a dozen children.

By comparison, all her Clan would ask was a daughter to carry on the name, and even that was no unspoken demand, merely a request to be heeded or not by her own choice and will. Rarely had the House prospered as it had in the three centuries past, setbacks and inevitable tragedies notwithstanding. There simply was no need for every woman healthy and able to do so to ensure the line's continuance. A rare and fortunate circumstance to which Sakarra had not the least objection.


"It is difficult to predict Eldest Mother's logic, beloved." And that was putting it mildly. There was a world of difference between naming him Companion and declaring betrothal. The former was, after all was said and done, still a private affair. One to which the Matriarch might have her say but rarely ever did. Comment upon, yes. Voice her misgivings; mayhap even be rather … direct with the outworlder who would claim his place by her grandchild's side, yes. Forbid – not without due and severe reason. Even and especially not T'Leia, that much Sakarra knew.

The latter however …

She studied his earnest features, the eyes like deep oceans watching her. No, he did not ask such things lightly. For all his tendencies for mischief and the fierce temper she knew to be contained under a near impenetrable armor of discipline, and yes, his habit of casual dalliances before … before he had decided to set his sights on a Vulcan and lost his heart in the bargain … Sakarra knew he would not ask unless he had put serious thought into the matter.

"She acceded to my parents' marriage, though from what my father gave me to understand, he would rather have climbed Vathax during storm season than face T'Leia again with the intent to make her change her mind."

And how the good-humored, gentle Betazoid had accomplished the feat was still a mystery.

"On the other hand, I should think the first obstacle to such a … hypothesis would be your own parents, no?"



[To be continued …]


Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Executive Officer


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander



USS Charon