Friday, November 5, 2010

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

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



"Startle you a little bit there did I," he said with a smirk on his face before he turned to meet her eyes. Had he thought about such things? Perhaps a little bit. More so over the past week. He knew that he had never felt this way, and when he was parted from her like that... Brent knew that he would never be able to feel that way again. He had considered asking her sometime soon. However in the heat of such events he figured it better to avoid rushing into something. He pressed a kiss to Sakarra's lips before that smirk came back on his face.

No. Not now. Sometime in the future. If the feeling did not fade... And Brent doubted that it would. He imagined that he had finally found the one for him... Her words however were a little bit dubious. "So she could prevent me from marrying you then," he said trying to weigh the options.  He would have to make a good first impression then. Which meant that he couldn't be wary and annoyed with this old Vulcan woman who held far too much power in his mind. Something to remember for the future. "Something to remember I suppose."

Gods his parents. Brent made up his mind then and there that when Sakarra slept he would find a communications network and link in with the colony. He should probably tell his parents that he was alive, and relatively uninjured. "I have been at odds with my parents since I was twelve years old. I don't think they will ever properly like that I live away from the colony if I do decide to pop the question to you. My mother will come around though. My oldest sister went to the big city in the center of the continent, where the spaceport is and the major metropolis. She met a man and within the span of a year and got married in the city, without telling my parents. This was of course around a few years after I rebelled, so it was my fault. My parents found out about it, and to my utter surprise... It was my mother that went down and tried to break my sister's ribs," he said with a sigh.  "My father is stubborn. I think though that he has a soft spot for love. Otherwise I don't see why my mother could have gotten his attention... If he gets it beaten into his head enough that I love you and want to marry you... He'll eventually give in. My mother we can win over in a few days..."


"A bit, yes." Ah, even now, even here, in the pitiful state she was in, aching with countless wounds and her voice soft and low, echoing with the exhaustion of too many tears unshed, too many fits of rage sent back into the dark, too many hours clinging to life and then the burst of raw emotion during the meld … even now his smirk made her heart give a small leap and her blood sing like the rain. That it should have been this towering Marine, this gentle human with the radiant smile and the steadfast heart that should become her beacon, her anchor, her compass by which she navigated all too willingly – if anyone had told her but a year ago, she would have laughed. Well, silently, and shown it only in an eloquently raised brow. But laughed all the same.


Reaching out, she ignored the protest of her marred skin and cupped his face in her hand "What you need remember, ashal-veh, is that first and foremost, T'Leia is Vulcan. Some say, all of Vulcan in one small person. Only after that is she a grandmother who lost a daughter she loved fiercely and now turns much of what she still feels onto the one child left by T'Sora."

Oh, she had sensed the brief flare of annoyance, and the image of Brent like a warhorse stomping its hooves before battle surfaced unbidden in her mind. If Vulcans were prone to place bets, there would be long odds placed on the Marine's success. Almost amusing, that they all, even her own beloved, failed to remember the proverbial 'wild card'. But those were thoughts for another day.


"A few days? And I hope the 'beaten into his head' was a metaphor. Still, I should very much like to meet them one day." Logical or no, reasonable or no, she could not help but already hold his family dear. They were as much part of him as they had given him the sea-blue eyes and the unruly dark brown hair, the firm jaw and broad shoulders. And so many siblings. It fair boggled the mind.


The thoughts of how to appeal to her grandmother could wait. Brent really did need to contact his parents. "Yes. In fact when you go to sleep next I will probably look around here and try to find a communications relay. If there isn't one here I'll go back to the Charon or find someplace nearby that does," he said with a sigh. "They should probably be told that I am alive and what not." The idea that she wanted to meet his parents made him smile. "I might be able to convince them that they should come off the colony, but in all honesty they won't until that hypothetical event we were just discussing becomes a reality. At least in person. I can probably arrange for you to meet them over subspace though. Hell they will probably want to meet you after what I'm going to tell them."


Stretching her long limbs carefully, the sable haired Vulcan adjusted the silks covering her slender frame and with a quiet huff let her head sink onto the soft pillow. Ah, there was simply no position that did not hurt in one way or the other but squirming about was not only undignified, it was quite pointless. And while her heritage meant she was healing rather more rapidly than most Vulcans, the itch emanating from the countless cuts crisscrossing her skin was near enough to prompt another expression of discontent.

"Yes, they should be told, ashal-veh. By now I must assume news has reached your colony as well and when your family hears Charon was … rather directly involved in events, they might … worry." Of course one might debate the wisdom of adding the news their rebellious son was 'dating' a Vulcan to the announcement he was alive and well, though somewhat worse for wear. Then again, they might be taking it with more good graces in the light of at least knowing him safe. It was difficult to tell with humans sometimes.

"If you ask Sejet, I am sure the abbot will not hesitate to arrange for a priority comm link. You seem to have made … an impression as it were."


Tired. Sakarra could not remember having been this weary in body and mind ever before and still she fought the instinct telling her to rest, clinging to consciousness by stubborn will alone. Only a little while, only ..

Outside dusk was falling, turning the streaks of silver rain an iridescent hue of polished lapis lazuli. She could not remember this much water ever having fallen in her lifetime, even here in the mountains. Gusts of wind made the windows sigh in their frames while the trees swayed in a slow, stately dance. And under the trees …

Sakarra sat up so quickly, the silk slid off her shoulders and she had to bite back a small sound of pain. There was but one thing on Vulcan casting a shadow as massive as this, and her hand automatically reached for a weapon that was not there. They roamed Llangon, though rarely in these heights, horrible climbers that they were. Nor did they usually …


Only a whisper, to answer her beloved's questioning gaze.

And it was heading straight for …

"Ah, hlau'tõrr oş t'hai'llah."

Of course.

Drenched and like as not impatient to get inside, Warya pressed his face against the glass doors, giving the impression of a grinning saber-tooth tiger with a strong infusion of grizzly bear and a touch of playful bobcat.

"I believe my … guardian has arrived. If you would kindly let him in, beloved – I think the glass doors are not meant to be nudged by three hundred fifty pounds of determined Sehlat."


"I will be sure to ask him then," Brent replied. He could tell that she was getting sleepy. He watched as the impressive looking animal nudged at the glass. He looked at Sakarra for a moment before nodding. He walked over and let the beast in, watching as it leaped into the room and seemed bound to lay down next to Sakarra. Brent idly hoped that the beast would not climb up onto the bed. As wet animal hair was never really a pleasant thing to smell...

"My love? Are you going to rest now? You should. If you are I will return soon I promise. Well ok I cannot promise that exactly, as my mother may wish to pick my brain about everything that has happened in the past few months since I have last talked with her. Will you be alright?" he asked her as he saw that she was trying to nod off.


Amber-gold eyes took the measure of the tall creature who had opened the door but Warya's first order of business was to shake thoroughly before sniffing the air with a deeply dissatisfied rumble. Sharp scent of copper, and way too much of it. The she-biped's eyes though were clear and lambent, and the elderly Sehlat was content to not smell the odor of death anywhere near. Circling the bed for a spot to lay down and warm his old bones, Warya pricked his fluffy ears to take in the stranger's voice and her reaction to it. Ah. Well, about time, too.

After giving a yawn that displayed his fangs in all their splendor, the Sehlat considered encouraging the tall one to scratch him behind the ears and thought better of it, seeing as people tended to react in funny ways to damp fur. Or a massive head being shoved under their elbows in the most tender way. Poor frail things fell over more often than not and then he found himself at the receiving end of a Look. No need to make her unhappy by knocking over her mate. Now that she finally had deigned to pick one.

With a snort Warya plopped down next to the bed, dislodging a tiny couch in the process though he had been polite enough to nudge it out of the way rather than crushing it. His deep, wise eyes settled on the sleepy little Vulcan and 'Found you' was writ in bright letters on the furry face. Not that she looked at all surprised. She never was. And though Warya knew he would get into a tad of trouble over his escapade – again – he was quite pleased with himself and made it known with a deep purr that shook the rafters.


"I will be alright, beloved." Heedless of the raindrops still clinging to the Sehlat's fur, Sakarra reached out to scratch her old friend behind the ear and was rewarded with a gigantic paw twitching happily. "Speak to your parents. Warya has warded me since I was no bigger than his paw and though the healers might find his presence unorthodox, a Sehlat who does not wish to be moved … will not be. Just as he is fully capable of summoning help should I require it." Unless he got stuck in the doorframe. Again. But a small roar would suffice in either case.



=/\= End Log =/\=


Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax

Executive Officer


Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander



USS Charon