[=/\= USS Charon, Eris Deck =/\=
No, it was good the way it was.
Studying the masculine features she would have known in a sea of a billion faces, Sakarra resisted the impulse to reach out and trace across his brow with tender fingertips, watching the sparkle appear in those dark blue eyes, the hue of sapphires at nightfall.
Not quite in the eye of the beholder as far as a Vulcan was concerned, beauty still came in near innumerable shapes and forms.
And she wondered.
"Your parents." She had the right to ask, just as he did, having shared so many other things sleeping in the depth of their minds before. Still, it felt strange that there was no need to seek permission for personal questions and she would not insult him by doing so. "Which one of them has given you this color?"
"Hm," Brent said as she asked him the question before he looked over at her and smiled. "My color? If you mean my eyes then I got those from my father. He has blonde hair though," Brent said reaching up and ruffling his own hair before he looked back over at her. "My mother gave me my hair. Thick and dark brown. I also got my patience from her I think, as my father never had any of that when I was growing up," he said with a bit of a chuckle in his voice. "And you? Who gave you those lovely eyes?"
She exhaled softly at his gesture, realizing with faint amusement that he had picked up the surge of tenderness and the very persistent desire to run her own fingers through the unruly strands.
More often than not, being a highly touch sensitive species and a telepathic one at that on a ship where most others were not lead to considerable complications. But there were always times that reminded Sakarra why she would not trade who and what she was for any price.
Just like a certain scent can prompt forgotten memories to surface with unexpected clarity, merely looking at her Companion made her fingertips remember every contour of his face as well as the last time she had buried her hands in that abundant deep brown mass of hair.
"Rel Tyrax." She said levelly, though there was a world of emotion echoing in every single syllable if one had the ears to hear. "And my grandmother Lhorexa never fails to mention that my father's eyes are capable of lending even a Vulcan face a measure of loveliness, so it would appear you two are in accord on this matter."
A waitress appeared quietly, exchanging Sakarra's empty glass for a Vulcan mocha and hurried off before she could as much as prompt a brow, let alone Look.
The mention of his parents and Lady Lhorexa made her remember another conversation they'd had some time ago. "They would not object to your 'dating' a colleague, yes? Your family."
If she remembered correctly, and Vulcans generally do, the point of friction regarded bond-mates and children rather than … what Brent had outlined earlier.
Brent shook his head and laughed softly. "No they would not. That's how they met. While my dad sometimes is a little bit hypocritical, not even he would say something like that. He might give me a funny look though because technically you are my superior officer even if you are quite far down the food chain from when you would have to start giving me orders to potentially hold a position even if it meant the life of me and my men," he said dryly and began to pick at the center portion of the crab, eating a few of the asparagus shoots in the meantime.
"Do you talk with them much?" he asked Sakarra. "Your family on Vulcan and Betazed?"
Food chain. Quite an interesting way of putting it. But this was not precisely the time and place to point out the Vulcan 'food chain' and the resulting implications. Still, at some point she might have to at least give her Companion a small outline of precisely whom he was 'dating'.
"Yes." She nodded serenely, watching with no small measure of silent, pleased humor how Brent went about his meal with every sign of enjoyment. His approach was a familiar one to be certain, thorough and confident; and the young Vulcan was hard put not to let the knowing glint in her eyes turn into a playful smirk.
"With Charon out of contact the speaking has been limited to letters of course, however the last batch delivered by the Guardian alone was … extensive."
So extensive in fact she had not even been able to reply to every single one yet.
"What of you?" Limited though Sakarra's experience with humans was, she had observed some to have stronger family ties than others.
"I am the same way. My mother sends me several video letters in a month. At least four or five I think. A lot of them are reports on how dad is doing and how things are going on the farm," he said with a smile. "I would say that my family is close? It was always a very large part of who I am and what I was while growing up. My father and I butt heads a great deal. That really only got worse as I got older too. Several of my brothers followed suit, and I think my youngest sister is about to do the same thing. She just sent me a message from the library in the main city on the planet, I think to find out about the galaxy outside of the colony." Brent sighed thinking about just how much his dad would be infuriated by the idea.
"Your ancestors took great risks and overcame great adversity when they founded the colony." In fact, it was astonishing how humans had dared to venture into the unknown with frail and untried technology – although a Vulcan could certainly relate to the drive of exploration, the siren call of the stars.
"I fail to see the logic in not continuing this tradition of wishing to find new challenges. To deny it would be denying the very thing that defines Gilgamesh, no?"
Tilting her head in her typical thoughtful manner, Sakarra inhaled the soothing scent of the coffee and pondered the issue. There were as many unexpected parallels – a planet so harsh in its way that the species needed to adapt, and even so found itself at the brink of extinction more than once – as there were deeply rooted differences.
"Are they concerned you and your siblings might not come back?" It would explain the reluctance to let them leave, but the Vulcan could not for the life of her understand why someone would decide to abandon one's home planet for good. So the concern seemed … unfounded. Illogical.
"Since I reenlisted I think my father has given up on me. He's stopped yelling at me as much over subspace and seems to be almost happy with the choices I have made. When I told him that I was an officer, even if temporarily I think he generally smiled at me for the first time in a very long time. I think some of them want all of their children to return to the colony, find a nice wife or husband and settle down to till the earth around their farmland. As I've told you many times. I find that to be extremely boring. I think once they accept that we might not come back they just want what's best for us like any other parent would. It's just getting to that point is like pulling teeth." Brent said gazing out at the stars for a moment before smiling at Sakarra.
"My youngest sister has always been the smartest of us. She got it from mom. I think she's looking into medical school. But to answer your question yeah I think they are. I haven't gone back home since I left in a fury of harsh words and tears. My other brothers left and have returned by now but..." Brent shrugged. "I just haven't had the time or the inclination to go back home."
The raven-haired Vulcan nodded silently, taking a sip of her coffee. At last, the talk surrounding their table had shifted towards other matters as the crew realized they would not be treated to anything more interesting than two officers sharing dinner and amicable conversation, although Sakarra was fully aware of furtive glances still thrown in their general direction.
"Perhaps one day you will." She studied her Companion's face in the mess hall's bright light and the flicker of a smile appeared in the deep pools of her dark eyes. "Be inclined to at least visit home again."
=/\= To be continued ... =/\=
Brevet 1st Lieutenant Brent Warren
Marine Commander
Lt Cmdr Sakarra Tyrax
Chief Helm
USS Charon
