Disclaimer: I do not own STO
Darkness settled over the colony of Virinat, and the seedy underbelly of the colony was stirring as the illumination ports activated for the night workers who fixed things in the dark. In one bar, barely lit and smelling of rot and sweat, sat a man who gulped down his last glass of ale, looking to the bartender for another glass and finding a tall, stalwart, and stern Romulan staring down at him. "Hello Gregs *hic* I missed your arrival, when did you come in?" the man asked.
"Sal'vin, you've drank too much again, the owner has asked me to escort you back home." the stern man replied.
"Now Gregs, I can*hic*t, go with you, the kind owner isss, being paid." said the obviously drunk man slurred his words. The Romulan wrinkled his brow, bringing his hand up to his head in annoyance at the drunk Romulan in front of him, an example of what the empire had come too.
"It's Tovan, Sal'vin, not 'Gregs', you drunk slop now stop acting idiotic and sober up." replied Tovan Khev, a security officer of the Virinat Colony. Suddenly the drunken Sal'vin stood up tossing his chair away like it was a light box, and stared Tovan in the eyes, his burning with cold fury. He was like that for four seconds before his expression changed to that of an off kilter smile.
"Sure friend," he replied, and walked off and out of the bar, heading towards his small farm home where he could rest in peace.
"What have you gone through old friend, no one knows..." Tovan muttered under his breath as he fixed the upturned chair.
"By the way Tovan, twenty glasses of ale is my record, and I was barely at glass number thirteen." he shouted back at Tovan as he passed through the doors. Tovan merely watched the large Romulan lumber down the street.
"Sometimes I feel like he does this just to mess with me." Tovan muttered to himself, going to check on the other patrons of the bar.
Present Day, Two weeks before Vega Colony Attack:
Sal'vin Chernok, a Romulan who has seen his world die over again, looking down at the burning homes of the villager's homes, and wept at the destruction that he saw. He was a mechanic, pure and simple, a farmer that fixed machines for a living so he wasn't put back onto a Romulan Flotilla or drafted into the Tal Shiar. But this wasn't his true life and he knew it. It was horrible nightmare, one warped and twisted by Sela and her Tal Shiar cohorts, fueled by the anger and loss of their empire. Now it was a dead dream because of them.
Earlier...
He grimaced at his work, as he combed through harvester's heart of gears,, springs, and nuts searching for the problem that was affecting its performance. That's when he got a communiqué from Tovan to meet him at the town center.
Present:
Now all that was left was a burning rubble of a now dead world. He turned to the survivors, including his friend Tovan, walked straight past them, and into the pilots seat.
2394:
Fourteen years old and he had already lost his mother, who disappeared after he was born. Now his father had disappeared off of the Flotilla, leaving only a crate and a letter instructing him to give a Romulan pilot a second letter, in exchange for a small ship. He had followed the letter's guidance and had found the pilot. He was small, mysterious, with a grimace shadowing his face, he had blond hair and brown eyes that seemed to suck the life out of those around him. "What do you want." the pilot asked in a gruff voice.
"I was told to give this to you." was Sal'vin's response. The small man looked over the letter briefly, closed his eyes, sighed, and let a teardrop fall onto the page.
"Fine kid, I can give you a ship." was all that he said. They began loading the small craft with the few possessions Sal'vin took with him.
"The food stores will last a week, two if you ration them," he said, "Head towards the Virinat System, there's a colony there starting to build itself up, they could use a trained operative like you." He paused for a second, like he was unsure if he should continue. "You know kid, not many people get a chance to leave, take your money and run, that's my advice," the man continued, "Your father was a great man, and he had already set up a place for you, my debt is paid, and may the Tal Shiar fall beneath the shadows of the new empire." Sal'vin didn't understand the last part, but all he saw as he departed was a small flash of light as the small man touched his belt, and was gone.
2394:
After rationing his food stores, and haggling with traders, he was able to find Virinat and landed his ship and found the contact. For food and a place to rest, he gave the contact the small crate that his father left him, a small debt his father repaid. His father was like that, honorable even in his apparent death. Then he was sent to meet the founders of this backwater colony.
He found a man, who eventually after a lot of persistence, gave him a job as a mechanic so he was at least useful to the fledgling colony. He also gave the colony his P.A.D.D, in exchange for keeping up on his schooling, so as to increase his knowledge.
This was Sal'vin's new life, he just had to work to make it a good one.
There were things he had to overcome on his way to being a normal citizen, a Tal Shiar obedience code had to be removed, he had a few close encounters with native life, but he had become a normal citizen again. He became a broken man again in light of the new attack but that doesn't mean life was hopeless. Now he had a new path to take, one of freedom, one for unification, he learned enough to be someone new again. Now he could forge his own legacy aboard the starship Naul'iscint.
Present
Above New Romulus, aboard the Naul'iscint:
A bartender pours a glass of Romulan ale, where he hands it to a young half-Romulan new to the ship, where he sips at it. A shadow appears looming over the man at the bar. "You know Sal'vin, you might show the crew your bad habits," the stern XO Tovan said, "and we both know that we don't want our crew worrying about their captain's health." Sal'vin chuckles at this, and turns around to face his first officer and friend, Tovan Khev.
"You know me better than that Tovan, I'd never tell them I'm their captain," Sal'vin Chernok, captain of the R.R.W. Naul'iscint, replied, "Plus half of them don't even know I'm their captain yet." Both men sat side by side at the bar, the bartender serving some of the young officers in the lounge. The silence was a thick as a nebula, as both men sipped at their drinks, then Tovan broke the silence.
"Sir, you should inform the crew that you've been selected to take over as captain, you're the only one with the qualifications and training to do so." He said. Sal'vin merely took a swig, and sighed at his XO's request.
"Yes, but I also know Xenophobia is still high since the Tal Shiar's attacks began on the colonies," he looked out to the stars behind him, "Maybe it is time for them to meet their new captain..." Tovan Khev looked at his friend, a question on his tounge he dare not ask. "I'm part Reman, if you were wondering Tovan, my mother was half Reman, a failed clone that they let live, since she passed for Romulan more than her bretheren," he sighed before continuing, "and I'm a telepath, as she was, which is why I could read your surface thoughts." Tovan merely looked a bit startled, though overwhelmed by this, and merely nodded.
"Sir, I think the crew will accept you, no matter what you think." And with that he left his captain at the barstool. Sal'vin Chernok, merely took a sip of his ale, then caught up to his friend. "You know, I'll have to tell them about how I got here right?" Tovan chuckled.
"What makes you think they'll want to hear how you ran away from the little insects?" Tovan replied.
"Little!" he said with indignation, "Tovan, those bugs were huge, menacing, and flying! All the things I hate!" Tovan chuckled at his captain, and slapped him on the back.
"There is the troublemaker I once knew," Tovan continued, "You should've seen your face though!" Both Romulans, both friends, continued on their merry way as they left their dead past behind to leave a new legacy.
Author's note: This was story I did on my first Rommie Character.