Star Trek: Starbase 777 - tavaen-tr’khellian

A message pinged Tavaen's PADD unexpectedly.

To: Tavaen tr'Khellian, Starbase 777 From: Valak tr'Khellian, Paehhos Rehabilitation Centre Jolan tru, Tavaen. It has been a long time since we have spoken. I have gotten word from my mother that you are now residing on Starbase 777 and I would like to congratulate you on your move. I am sure Eviess and Rh'vaurek have informed you that I am currently being held at the Paehhos Rehabilitation Centre. I am being treated well by staff, but it is my fellow residents that have been making things difficult. I miss our family dearly and I deeply regret that my actions have led me to such a suffering existence. You are a strong and reasonable man. I remember looking at your service record and being in awe at what a reliable leader you were. You are what inspired me to serve our great people and you continue to inspire me to be the best version of myself I can be. As you know, we are nothing without our house. The Khellian house is a proud house and to know that we will be spending the first hours of 2414 apart weighs heavily on my heart. I have yet to receive a response from our hru'hfirh in regards to helping me make a case for a home visit to our estate on Mol'Rihan. When you get the chance, please remind her that her brother wishes to see the rest of his house. I would love to meet you and your children as well, I am sure they are just as bright and perceptive as you. Stay well, most honourable Tavaen. I await the day we can meet face to face once again. Elements willing and with Rh'vaurek's assistance, that day will be soon. Sincerely, Valak tr'Khellian. This message was sent from the Paehhos Rehabilitation Centre and all communications will be logged and screened for safety.

Tavaen had to read the message several times in order to figure out what to answer. He absolutely was not in charge of raising Eviess' kids, but, well, it was clear Valak had none of the sense of his mother and sibling, and all the pride of a Khellian. A dangerous combination, to be sure.

To: Valak tr'Khellian, Paehhos Rehabilitation Centre From: Tavaen tr'Khellian, Starbase 777 Jolan tru, Valak. Indeed, what a long time it has been. I remember when you were an intelligent young man, your eyes gleaming with Khellian pride. You must be far more grown now. Rilek had indeed notified me of your imprisonment; your mother neglected to mention it in the short conversations we've had since my return. I am sure that you regret whatever it was that caused you to end up in a correctional facility, but we must all face the consequences of our actions in one way or another. While I must admit that your admiration for my years of service strokes an old man's ego, I fear I cannot help you. My age may make me a sort of authority to some, but your sibling is a headstrong and opinionated young man, and I will not squander what goodwill I've managed to accrue by trying to convince her of your case. Something you learn with age is that sometimes, the more you ask for something, the less likely you are to receive it. Do all your communications with Rilek involve you asking her to do something for you? Perhaps they are simply tired of all the demands. As for my children, of course you are free to seek out contact with them. They are all adults, they don't need me to speak for them. I cannot guarantee that they'll be amenable to such contact; their moral compasses have always pointed to true north. But you are free to try. Elements willing, Valak, none of us suffer more than we are due. I wish you the best, and hope you figure out how to be something outside of the structure our House offers you. Sincerely, Tavaen i-I'Ramnau tr'Khellian

Was there a good way to send a message like this? There was something draining about even attempting to send a message like this to his family. He preferred to show a brave face for Mirak, something he usually managed on calls. Letor always seemed to know him better than he knew himself, but that was a given; he didn't know anyone quicker than Letor, and he'd known a lot of people in his time. The only person he didn't have to lie to, inasmuch as not telling the full truth could be considered lying, was Ev'kor, for the man had seen the worst of him in many many ways, including ways Tavaen couldn't even pinpoint for the simple fact that in his many deliriums he'd likely laid himself bare in a way he would never remember, and Ev'kor would never tell. (In that regard, he had raised a good Romulan man; Ev'kor would detest the assessment, but it held true regardless.) The message to Ev'kor was finished quickly. Details of his physical wellbeing, as well as an anecdote of being punched in the face by an old acquaintance, were sure to make his son worry, but he didn't want to withhold anything either. For his efforts, Ev'kor deserved nothing but the truth. Letor's letter took longer. If there was nothing to read between the lines, it wouldn't be worth reading; that was how he and Letor had always communicated, ever since his eldest had been a boy. For all his Vulcan traits, Letor was sometimes more Romulan than himself; whether it was overcompensation or a need to prove himself, or simply the obvious resemblance to himself, Tavaen was unsure. He didn't think he would ever be sure, but then, that served as another layer of context to parse through when talking to his son. Perhaps that was the way it was supposed to be.

23:48

(He briefly considered writing Pelmor, but Mirak and Letor were clear that his youngest hadn't been home in years, and would not come back to read what he had to say. Letor never seemed happy to talk about him, so while Tavaen missed him every day, he was sure there was a reason his son was not in any sort of contact anymore. He didn't write that message.) Then Mirak... it had been an age since he and his beloved wife had shared a house, and he missed her dearly. Her opinionated assertiveness and strength of will and conviction that led him when he was unsure of the world, and her ability to share her thoughts clearly and honestly without stepping on toes, he missed all of her dearly. It wouldn't do to show that on his face, of course, she as old-fashioned as himself in many ways, but he could fill his letter with every term of endearment he knew, so that she'd know he thought her as majestic as he did when they married; he could could ask her questions about things she'd mentioned last time they'd called, so that she'd know he was thinking of her. In the end, he chose to be mostly honest with her, too. He warned her not to worry about him, as he had with Ev'kor, and he knew she would listen where Ev'kor would not. He did share of his tiredness, of the pain in his chest and the taste of iron on his tongue on the bad days, when his cane was barely enough to help him stand. He also told her of Lama, because she'd keep it to herself, and neither Letor nor Ev'kor would be appreciative of him putting himself out there in such a manner. Mirak had never begrudged him his whims, though, not like that.

23:48

By the time he was done writing, his eyes were tired from staring at a screen for an age, so he hit send quickly. He was no longer hungry, so he would eat tomorrow morning (and wouldn't admit such a thing to Ev'kor, ever). For now he needed rest more than anything; he was sure to receive lengthy messages in the morning, and he wanted to be well enough to read them.