Imperial Dreamer
Written By: Ael Rhiana
* This story is written in the first and third-person perspectives. First person perspective will always be in bold.
Warnings: This story will have abrasive language at some points, scenes of graphic torture in later chapters. The beginning chapter has talk of self-harm, as well as deals with an attempted suicide. There will be several mentions of child abuse and neglect. Consider yourself appropriately warned.
Note from the Author: This is a story that has undergone four (now five) massive rewrites over the last decade; it is also a story that has been with me since my early teenage years, one of the characters, in particular, having a special place in my heart since the age of ten. This story reflects what I wish could have been if we lived in a perfect world where special fantasies and dreams could become reality. This world was my escape, the characters' my saving grace. This story is dedicated to them.
Additional Note: Though this is a self-insert story, the name used is not my real-life name. I chose the name some time ago, as a personal identity in the stories I write and just stuck with it.
…..
Life is all about timing; the unreachable becomes reachable, the unavailable become available, the unattainable…attainable. Have the patience, wait it out. It's all about timing.
~ Stacy Charter
Preface
Some stories – in fact, most of them – start at the beginning, but this one starts before that because first, there are some things that you need to know.
My name, the one given to me from birth is Jennifer Anne Wallace. But my true name, the one that speaks of the true identity of my soul is Ael. Well, it only speaks volumes to some, I suppose. It means everything to me.
Fifteen years old, a human girl born of Earthly parents, barely five feet tall and scarcely eighty pounds soaking wet; hair the color of an open flame, green eyes that sometime seem a little too green when I see my reflection and slightly pale skin covered in old scars across my chest and shoulders no one knows about but me. A stubborn personality yet quiet, a loner, never quite fitting in with the world. This is me.
Many times in my youth I spent the quiet of night staring up into the heavens, somehow feeling like my real home, my real family was somewhere up there among the stars, in another part of the quadrant that couldn't be seen from my bedroom window. To say that my spirit felt tortured is a bit of an understatement. To be unable to thrive, to do little more than painfully exist in a world where I wasn't wanted, a world I wanted no part of in return seemed to be my fate.
Fitting in with the human race was little more than a futile effort. The way my family treated me made me begin to hate humanity as a whole, especially Starfleet since everyone in the family other than me was a part of its ranks. Starfleet was supposed to be "the good guys" of the quadrant, my immediate family anything but.
What can I say other than my family didn't want me? Nothing. Cursed as the "accident they never wanted", treated as little more than a punching bag to vent their frustrations was my life sums it all up pretty well. A family is supposed to offer unconditional love, its members always at your back, ready to offer up support or encouragement whenever it is needed. Not mine. Well, not if you're me. If you're my brother, dear Jeffery James Wallace, you deserve the very stars themselves.
Tall, lean, sharply featured, hair the color of an old gingersnap cookie, eyes the color of rust – kind of a sickly brownish orange with the tiniest flecks of green – cocky, arrogant; the real "golden boy" of the family. He's also over a decade older than me. Rarely does he not remind me. Currently, he's a lieutenant in Starfleet's ranks, between postings though I know he's called back to service soon. How he's even managed to make it in Starfleet with his attitude…
Enough about him, at least for now.
Aside from the daily abuses that often found their way to me, the hateful curses often seeing me fleeing my home to run down by the water's edge in San Francisco Bay, I found some solace in the thoughts that perhaps one day, I might be able to find my way home, the one place, the one world I have always felt drawn to. Romulus.
Does that have your attention? Good.
The name I spoke of not long ago, Ael, is of Romulan origin. How did I come to have a Romulan name, a longing to find a way to a world that most would assure me is anything but mine?
It all happened one very late night, at the tender age of eight. It was the night you could say hope sprang to life for the first time in forever.
During that particular time, my family was stationed aboard a quaint little ship of the fleet, the USS Horizon. Being barely eight years old meant I had to follow them along, posting to posting. Jeffery had just been accepted into Starfleet Academy so no one would be seeing him for a while, something I was happy about.
After a particularly bad day – it seemed like there was always a reason to scream at me even when I was sitting alone in a little alcove in our quarters, reading – I was having difficulty getting to sleep. Mostly, I was concerned about whether or not I'd be able to hide a not-so-subtle limp come morning when it was time for school classes. I'd probably be kept hidden away in our quarters at least until I could walk properly, or my mother would make some excuse, insisting I was just "the clumsiest thing she'd ever seen", punctuating it with the falsest laugh I swear you've ever heard.
Feigning sleep at one point was the only way I could get a little peace, staying curled up in bed, eyes closed until I knew my parents to be in bed and dead to the world.
Silently, carefully I slipped out of bed, grateful for the thin layer of carpet on the deck. It masked my footsteps well. The only light in the room was the starlight that flitted in through the window, certainly not enough to read by, comforting all the same. Staring out at the stars as they drifted lazily past the window became my distraction for the next while, though the tension in my shoulders refused to lessen. I was certain at any given moment a hand was going to thrust through the darkness of the room to violently grab me, a harsh voice loudly berating me for being out of bed.
Thankfully, nothing happened. It took over two hours before I felt like I could sleep. Before heading back to my room, I wondered about getting a glass of milk from the replicator, deciding the noise might alert someone to the fact I wasn't in bed.
A PADD, which is a portable display device sat on the table nearest the replicator. Something prompted me to pick it up, probably just my curiousness. The PADD was soon in my hands; it felt cold and didn't have much weight to it. I took my newest acquisition back to my room, curling up on the bed beneath the blankets, the brightly-lit display allowing me to tap, swipe and scroll through the various contents. It seemed to be an ordinary PADD, nothing specific like the ones you might find belonging to a doctor or scientist.
To be honest, I couldn't even tell you what I pressed to bring up a section regarding known alien species', what I landed on stopping even my breath from coming. A beautiful alien woman stared back at me from the display, dark hair cropped short and close to her head, obviously in a traditional military cut, giving her a refined, noble appearance. The woman's eyes were almost darker than the darkest chocolate, yet the passion held there, passion for her people, her world was unmistakable. A stern countenance also told the tale this woman, quite possibly her people were not ones to be trifled with.
Over the next few minutes I took in everything I could about this woman; noting how her ears like Vulcans, ended in delicate points, the way the "V" shaped ridges on her brow swept outwards from the center. Even her posturing was studied; it spoke of strength, pride, dignity; she was no doubt a cunning, resourceful adversary.
With my heart pounding a mile a minute I allowed my eyes to roam over the text, at last, a word coming into immediate focus, a word I'd been searching for, for what felt like an entire lifetime, the key to my identity. One that would mark the beginning of a what would soon become a difficult journey ahead.
That word was Romulan.
At that precise moment in time, something clicked in both head and heart; I am Romulan. My human exterior may as well have been nothing more than a shell harboring a lost, restless wandering spirit in search of home.
From that moment forward, I began to diligently research the Romulan people, taking great care to keep my questions away from my parents' ears, being careful to whom I asked what, mostly my school teacher, and never asking too many questions lest I draw suspicion. Sometimes, it paid to be young. My secret brand of research was easily passed off as nothing more than the curious questions of a wondering child. There was even a time when I came across an officer who knew a smattering of the Romulan tongue, which only urged me to learn it for myself.
My name, Ael, fell into my lap not long after the initial discovery of the Romulan people when I happened across some Romulan history from way back when that spoke of a Romulan woman of small stature who bore the name I now carry. Built small like me yet courageous, strong, brimming with determination, filled with fire; willing to do whatever it took to bring glory to an Empire she respected, had a passion for.
Being a pure-blooded Romulan aside, if she could do great things, being so small, having, for a time, so much of the world against her, why couldn't I triumph too? The name became not only my new identity but a source of strength and perseverance. I was determined to live up to my new namesake.
It felt like there was never a short supply of information to be had, a year passing more quickly than I could have ever hoped for. The other years seemed to drone on forever and ever, running together as we moved from one USS this to another USS that. We were even on a space station once but I forget exactly why. At some point, Jeffery, the star of the family, graduated from Starfleet Academy with honors, the obvious highlight of our parents' lives. It was actually a bit sickening.
I was content to let him have the limelight since it seemed to be all he wanted, while I stayed like a Romulan: quiet, in the shadows, hiding away from those I considered my most hated enemies. Dreaming, wondering, plotting how to get home to a world I'd never seen; it all felt so feeble at times. It was like a grand dream that would never be more than just a wish of the heart.
One horrible evening, when about every ounce of hope had been drained out of me, blood oozing out of freshly made cuts in my pale skin, I began to concede to the fact, at least it sure seemed to be, that life was just a never-ending cycle of pain and utter torment. Hope seemed to be a bit of a lost cause too.
I just stood there, the blood trickling down my chest; I can barely tell you why I did it at all, starting cutting. Maybe it was a way to slowly commit suicide, a way to rid my being of the world, of the family who never wanted me. Why I didn't just end it all outright… Maybe some hope remained after all.
Determined to find it, the remaining hope, I ceased injuring myself and began my research again. This time researching the Empire's most elite. Well, what I could find of them. There wasn't much on the praetor, a tall man with a lanky stature hidden by Imperial robes in varying shades of green flecked with gold and black. I've already forgotten his name. The Chairman of the Tal'shiar, Koval, an older man whose face looked to be carved from stone, hard and unfeeling was my next find. The identifying picture that came with notes of warning did little to ease my mind. If anything, the pictures of the man were shiver-inducing. A few more files were found and opened, no one person standing out from another in most cases.
Actually, no one seemed especially friendly.
Even so, I continued on until at long last, I found a file that produced a momentary halt of breath, a new spring of hope to flood over me like a long-anticipated rain over farmland seized by drought.
The file in question belonged to a man named Movar i-Ra'thleihfi tr'Illialhae, a Noble Born, High General within the Imperial Star Navy. At least, that's how it was noted. Searching my brain to try and recall some of the things I had learned over the years, I could only remember the rank of general being present within the ranks of the Tal'shiar, the "secret police" of Romulan society, highly feared by anyone who had a hint of sense. Members of the Tal'shiar were said to look for deception at every turn, determined to find disloyalty above all else, discord over harmony. If you are outspoken, if you hold the wrong person's stare a second too long, it's enough to warrant arrest. Those arrested by the Tal'shiar tend not to come back.
Deciding to wonder about it all another time, my eyes focused on the photo that accompanied the general's dossier, staring into the eyes of that photo so deeply it was like they were almost looking back.
The general wore the same stern, no-nonsense expression that many Romulans seemed to wear, only something in his eyes seemed far different. Oh, I could see the arrogant poise, the cunning, the passion for his world and race; just as easily I could see that he was a man who could command respect merely by stepping into a room, carrying himself confidently. Vast amounts of patience sat just behind the unblinking stare, something giving me the notion that he was a man who would fiercely protect those whom he considered his own.
Suddenly I wondered what it must be like to be his daughter, to live in the home of nobility, to have a father who would love, protect and nurture his children; what it must be like, I thought, to be a part of a family where someone always has your back.
True, it all could have been just been the product of an overworking imagination, my sudden thoughts of the general and what his home and family must ultimately be like. Just… Something in those eyes so dark brown they were almost black, told me all I needed to know. A little sound bite accompanied another file I found, this one containing a short speech given at a joint military conference over a decade and a half prior, longer than I'd even been alive.
That clip was played repeatedly for days. Marveling at the strong, deep and soothing voice sent my mind to a far better place, a place of home and family, love, and acceptance. There was little doubt the general's voice could command instant respect, perhaps even fear if he raised the volume, but the more I listened, the more I could hear that same voice, deeply soothing as he spoke in reassurance to one of his children.
"What would you say to me?" I mumbled aloud in thought.
"To not lose hope amidst your situation. Find a source of strength and hold tightly to it. Find your way home."
No, the photo itself didn't speak though it would have been nice if not a bit surprising had it done so. Still, the thoughts about what I imagined he might have said drove me to tears, filling my heart with further need and longing. It was all I could do to not cry out in anguished need for a father's arms – his – to hold me close in reassurance.
All I could do to survive that instance, moving on to the next were my continual thoughts on what he might say to me, how reassuring and gentle he would be, how fierce if anyone dared cause me harm again.
In my mind and heart, the general became my father. No, he became my daddy, my saving grace where it hadn't existed before, a lifeline to cling to for the years to follow.
"You will find your way home; never lose heart," I would often imagine him say.
"I promise," was usually what I would mumble back.
The drive to grow up, to find my way home consumed me, the thoughts of a loving family awaiting me there, kept me sustained through hardship. All I had to do was endure the pain of existence on Earth a little while longer.
This is where my story really begins. So, let's begin it.
It's time to go home.
Chapter One
The faint ray of hope that Ael had been struggling to hold onto for the last three years was fading fast. At any given moment it would be snuffed out like a candle's flame by the faintest gust of breath. Though she had only just reached the age of fifteen half a week prior, Ael could feel her sanity slipping away; she clung to it tightly but could feel the single thread of what was left of hope, slipping through her weakened grasp.
With her mind veiled in a darkened haze she couldn't shake, Ael struggled to find her footing in what could only be described as a blind struggle, fighting for the will to keep going, to push through the darkness of depression, to somehow accomplish the goal she'd set for herself so many years past. All she wanted was to go home even though it was to a world she'd yet to see, where others likely wouldn't welcome her with open arms. Even so, her heart longed to know the Romulan people.
At least, Ael thought, I no longer have to worry about my parents.
Charlene and Garret Wallace, both commanders within the ranks of Starfleet had abandoned Ael only a year prior, returning to duty aboard one of the Federation's most prized starships, the USS Enterprise, the dream posting of virtually everyone in the service at some point or another. Since there were no other sources of family for Ael to be placed with she had been left on her own to fend for herself. Thankfully, with the level of technology that existed in the twenty-fourth century, having access to a working food replicator meant that Ael never had to go without. But she did get lonely.
"Oh, this mission is much too dangerous," Charlene had said in an off-handed way when Ael dared to ask if she would be accompanying them aboard the Enterprise. "Jeffery will be home within a few months, you can cope by yourself until then, surely?"
Without waiting for an answer, Charlene had turned away, Ael knowing deep down her parents would not be returning to her once their five-year mission had run its course. Just as she also knew the mission likely wasn't as dangerous as her mother claimed; the Enterprise was an exploration vessel, not a warship.
Even though had been left alone, at least until Jeffery returned sometime in the coming months, things were looking up for the first time in forever. When she went on walks every morning there was a noticeable spring in her step, a far cry from the limp she'd had every now and again since childhood.
It didn't take long for her to find a little spot to call her own, a little cafe just down the road, Loca Mocha. Ael thought the name was a bit silly. At least the atmosphere was nice. Comfortable and cozy, especially if she chose a table in the far corner, Ael would often sit there for hours, poring over PADDs she'd managed to collect (and hide) over the years, watching Starfleet officers come and go. Sometimes, Ael would engage one or two of the friendlier ones, often asking questions about her race of choice: Romulans.
"I'm just curious is all," she would say. "Honestly, I thought of devoting myself to the study of other species. Currently, I'm on the Romulan section."
That was usually enough for folks to humor her request for further knowledge. Unfortunately for Ael, barely anyone knew more than she already did. The answers always seemed to be the same: Romulans are arrogant, militaristic, strategic in all they do. Best avoided. No one seemed to know anything concerning Romulan culture, at least no one Ael happened across.
On a particularly overcast, chilly afternoon, Ael sat in the café, sipping quietly on a peppermint hot chocolate. The warmth of the drink quelled most of Ael's sudden shivers, the biting breezes every time someone opened the door not the full cause of her chill.
A handful of PADDs sat on the table but Ael didn't seem to see them today. Three of the five weren't even turned on. There seemed to be no more information about Romulans anywhere in the world, at least not in Ael's little corner of it, and if anyone knew anything she didn't, they either weren't telling or she hadn't found them quite yet.
Days droned on, turning into weeks; Jeffery returned home. Feeling sour about several things, more so about her brother's return home than anything else, Ael became content with locking herself in her room. The café no longer held any appeal; the only way she might learn more about Romulans was by signing up for the Academy herself one day, enrolling into their anthropology course. It might also be the only way she would ever get to Romulus or at the very least, get close enough to make her life-long dream a reality.
"What can I hope to accomplish on this dust ball?" Ael mumbled sourly to a bar of soap one morning while in the shower, several months later. The lavender fragrance of the soap did nothing to calm her. So much for the uses of lavender and aromatherapy. "Short of joining Starfleet, there's no way to get into space." A snort. "Well, there's always contact a smuggler and book passage on a, probably, stolen ship that doesn't mind sneaking into Romulan territory to-" Ael noisily deposited the soap back into its dish. "That has to be the most ridiculous thought I've had all week." Ridiculous thoughts seemed to be all she had left.
Leaving the warmth of the shower, drying, and dressing, Ael sat on her bed, staring across the room at a small spot on the wall. Gaze fixated, focused, mind whirring; Ael tried to find a less ludicrous way to get to Romulus than joining Starfleet. What was she supposed to do if she managed it? Spend decades gaining rank, earning trust, one day stealing a shuttlecraft to make a run for it? Or should she actually find a way to contact some form of space riffraff to smuggle her across the Neutral Zone at some point this decade?
Nothing.
There was nothing more she could do unless…
"Maybe when Jeff gets his next set of orders, I can go with him. He is my only family after all, not that I think of him that way."
Try as she might to hope for the best, Ael knew Jeffery would never agree to it. There was simply too much hatred between them. Why would he ever help her? It was going to end up with Jeffery going, never returning home, at least not to this one.
Realizing her fate, to end up alone in a house that felt too large for one small teenage girl to occupy all by her lonesome, of never seeing Romulus, or of finding a family who would care for her; it was too much to bear. Depression consumed Ael within barely a few days of knowing she was destined for total abandonment by everyone she knew.
Cuts started appearing on her skin, always in places she could easily hide. It was just more pain in her already painful existence but at least it was something new to focus on. It didn't take long for the cuts to become deeper than the previous, for them to appear on a more frequent basis than before. One evening, Ael very nearly didn't bother to stop the crimson liquid flowing from a deep gash across her chest, waking up on the bathroom floor several hours later with a whopper of a headache, her body feeling icy cold.
On May the tenth, not really any special day marked on calendars around the world, Ael decided she was done. It was time to end her existence. If there was such thing as an afterlife, perhaps she could convince whatever God awaited her there to send her on to Vorta'vor, the Romulan version of heaven. Not that she believed in God. There was no reason to, not after the life she'd been cruelly forced to endure.
Trudging through an empty house, Jeffery out with "his boys" for a night of drunken shenanigans, Ael made her way into the kitchen, staring at the replicator for what felt like hours before ordering a bar of dark chocolate. The thing shimmered into existence; instead of taking the candy, Ael stared at it.
There is little point to me eating this, Ael thought. It might give her at least a little comfort before…
Pushing the suddenly grotesque, morbid thoughts away, Ael took her bar of chocolate and began the slow trudge back to her room. On her way past the study, the door partially ajar, Ael slowed even further, then stopped altogether. Peeking into the mostly bare room, feeling a little sorry for the dead plant in the corner near the dust covered window, Ael's gaze fixated on a little blinking light coming from the nearby desktop monitor. It seemed to be inviting her over for a closer look.
"That's weird," Ael thought aloud, stepping into the study. A few steps inside the room, Ael paused, craning her neck, straining her ears to make certain no one was around. The last thing she needed was for Jeff to have returned home early, catching her in an area of the home she had never really been allowed to go for no reason she could figure. "It isn't like I have anything to lose."
Curling up like a cat in the leather chair in front of the desk, Ael drew the device close in secrecy. Hair spilled over her shoulders when she leaned in closer, almost providing a curtain to hide the monitor from view. A tap of a button here, another there; the light ceased its relentless blinking. It was almost too easy to bring up the stored message for playback.
"Did you want me to see whatever this is, brother dear?" Mumbled Ael, reaching beside her for the chocolate bar she'd replicated not long ago, taking a bite and allowing the bitterly sweet treat to melt on her tongue while she watched. Maybe he didn't think I'd have the nerve to come in here.
The seal of the Federation blinked momentarily onto the screen. A time and date flashed along the bottom, indicating when the message had initially been received to the desktop. It had come nearly two days ago. A face, round, kind, and with a few wrinkles replaced the seal within moments. Sitting tall in the chair in his private ready room aboard the Stargazer, Captain Michael Brookes, in his red and black uniform, four shiny gold pips on his collar, stared seriously into the viewer.
"These are Jeff's orders," Ael said to herself, breaking off another chunk of chocolate. "I'd bet anything."
Though she hadn't seen him in years, Ael remembered Captain Brookes to be a nice man. When she was six, he had served with her parents. At that time, he'd been Commander Brookes. Affiliated with Starfleet, a human besides, two things Ael could barely stomach even at that age, she enjoyed the times she ran across Brookes, generally the rare times he'd popped into one of the classrooms on his way off duty. Funny, lovable; a smile turned up the corners of her mouth when she remembered the chocolates he would sometimes bring to the class.
The bittersweet chocolate on Ael's tongue suddenly tasted a little sweeter. Those chocolates were the only treats she ever had in her life up until the point her parents took off and left her alone to fend for herself.
In her heart, Ael knew Brookes would have helped her during her most troubled times if only she'd confided. The fear of the unknown had simply been too great.
A soft, weary sigh slipped out into the open in regards to the past. Ael returned her focus to not only the message but also making sure to keep an ear open for the sound of anyone returning home.
"Lieutenant Jeffery Wallace," Captain Brooke's began, his deep voice naturally soothing to Ael as she listened. "This transmission is to inform you of the orders I know you've been waiting for. You are hereby instructed to board the USS Stargazer for a six-month assignment, which will depart spacedock on May the tenth at oh eight hundred hours."
Tapping a button to pause the message, Ael's forehead scrunched up in thought. Today was the tenth. Ael sat in the study, message paused, until the light in the room began to wane. A quick look through the window at the dusky blues and purples in the sky told evening twilight was fast approaching.
"Wait, I wonder if Jeff's already gone," Ael gasped suddenly. Instead of going out with friends for the evening, could Jeff had already left for spacedock? "He could easily spend the night there or even on the Stargazer." Had her brother left the message, then, in plain sight on purpose, hoping she would see it, knowing she would be too late to do anything about it?
Suddenly the chocolate bar was no longer appetizing or bringing back her only fond memory from childhood. Face screwed up in disgust, Ael resumed playing the message.
"Once you are aboard, you will be fully briefed. The mission, however, is a simple one, though it will run fairly close to the Neutral Zone border. We haven't heard from the Romulans in quite some time so, if everything goes according to plan, there shouldn't be much excitement to worry about."
Ael paused the message again. The Neutral Zone? Perfect! Wait, but if Jeff had already gone… Quickly, Ael resumed the message.
"If you have any questions or concerns before your arrival, then you may contact me through the channel listed at the end of this message. I look forward to your arrival on board, Lieutenant. Brookes out."
The desktop monitor faded to black, Ael bathed in the dusky light flooding in through the window. A cricket began to chirp from somewhere nearby but the sound barely registered to Ael who can only wonder if her brother had slipped away in the afternoon with his belongings, fully intending to spend the night aboard spacedock, leaving her one hundred percent on her own at the age of (just barely) fifteen.
Slowly, Ael got to her feet, moved soundlessly out of the study, down the hall to where she knew Jeffery's room to be and peeked in. Daring to step inside, Ael raised the lighting level, uttering a less-than-mild curse in the Romulan tongue when her gaze fell upon nothing.
Jeffery's room was uncharacteristically neat and tidy, the only real items left in the room being his bed, a small night table and lamp, and a bookshelf. There was absolutely nothing left as she gazed around the room that her brother had occupied only a day prior.
"That's that, I suppose," said Ael softly, shoulders slumping in defeat. Had I found that transmission yesterday…
Not that it would have done much good. Other than begging, badgering, or screaming demands at Jeff to take her along, to not leave her alone in the middle of the city; when push came to shove he just didn't care all that much about anyone, especially his little sister.
Backing out of the room without bothering to dim the lights, Ael hurried to her own room, kicking the door open, shoving it closed, turning the lock. Breaths came in heaving gasps; her chest felt heavy and tight, painfully bitter tears felt lodged in her throat. The earlier bit of chocolate threatened to make a reappearance.
"Gah! Fuck everything!" Ael loudly swore, the curse sounding choked. "I've tried to have hope; I've tried to learn; I've tried for years to figure out a damned way off this rock short of hiring riffraff to smuggle me off world, not that I have anything to barter with. And joining the damn academy, attempting to make a break for it in another couple of decades? Useless! Worthless! All of it!"
Though Ael identified with the race called Romulan, she certainly no longer felt even a measure as strong. Something she had learned years ago moved to the forefront of her mind.
A Romulan without a home, without family, has no identity, Ael recalled. And a Romulan without identity does not exist to her people. No family, no home, no identity; it all only means disgrace.
"Romulans fear disgrace more than death," Ael recited from memory. "Romulans are also courageous, cunning," Ael added, an onslaught of emotion threatening to overcome her. "They are strong, steadfast, patient. Have I not been? A Romulan would surely be able to find a way to prevail in this situation where I cannot. I-I'm just out of options, hope; I'm out of time."
Ael's last words came out soft, strangled by the influx of tears. Tear filled eyes slowly swept across the room, coming to rest on a raggedy stuffed tiger by the name of Mr. Mittens who was hopelessly tangled up in the dark green bedding. The old toy's amber colored eyes seemed to ask for a bit of help, Ael stepping over to the bed to free the scruffy cat, and then she sat on the bed, pressing one of the only things she'd ever loved close to her chest.
Long past when the room was thrown into darkness, Ael sat clutching the toy, her mind numb, body shivering, stalling the inevitable she knew was coming. Holding Mr. Mittens in the crook of her left arm, Ael reached over to the drawer of her nightstand and pulled it open, retrieving the small, slightly battered photograph of General Movar, a photo she'd had for years without anyone ever knowing. The corners of the photo were crinkled a bit from being held for long periods, slept within a tight grasp more than once. A small section of the photo's color had bled away from what might think was water damage; she'd spent many times sobbing over the picture, begging him, the one she saw as Daddy, to help her.
Now, as she held it, teardrops already falling onto the faded surface, Ael could imagine the general telling her still, never to give up. "Romulans do not admit defeat; Romulans do not utter the phrase, "I cannot". You must look for other options, Ael," she imagined him saying.
"Don't you see?" Ael rasped to the photo. "I'm not strong enough, never have been." Eyes drifting closed, Ael no longer bothered to stifle her sobs. "You are a Romulan, I'm really not. If only you knew what I'm about to do; Daddy, it would sorely disappoint you."
God, those were horribly painful words to say to someone whom she loved even if he knew nothing of her. He was the man whom she had adopted in her mind and heart so many years ago, now. No matter how much she wished for him to be her Daddy, he simply was not. Ael always considered him her rock, a source of silent strength when she otherwise had none. Each and every time she had been about to throw in the towel, his voice would come to her, urging her to her feet, telling her to collect her thoughts and to try again, just one more time.
"There are no more "one more times" left," murmured Ael sadly.
Holding the photo in one hand, tiger still in the crook of her arm, Ael took herself to the corner beside the window, an area that had housed her despairing form more times in her life than she cared to count. A reddish-rust colored stain, its origins dismal and pained, marred the hardwood where Ael lowered her body down to sit, knees drawn to her chest. Depositing the old stuffed toy on her lap, Ael leaned to the side and reached beneath her dresser, extracting a knife wrapped in green cloth, marked by dirty red dots.
Sobbing, Ael placed the weapon beside her, grasping Movar's picture tightly in both hands, begging him to help her, to offer another way out that she hadn't thought of or seen. The eyes in the photo might be unable to see Ael yet they seemed to question what it was she had in mind for the evening.
How can you give up? You are stronger than this! Believe it! Movar's voice seemed to say, Ael choking on a sob bubbling up from the depths of her soul.
"I-I don't know, OK? Had I been born your daughter, none of this would be happening now. I would be something special. I wouldn't be this horrible, pitiful nothing I've been my entire life."
Weeping until hyperventilation seemed to be her immediate plans, the general's picture soaking by the time Ael's tears ran dry. Anguished thoughts swirled in her head and her body felt chilled to the bone. Soft moonlight shone through Ael's bedroom window, gently caressing the girl it spilled over.
Nothing was of much comfort any longer. It was time to fade from existence.
"I'm so sorry, Daddy," Ael whispered hoarsely, placing the marred photo face down on the floor. Mr. Mittens was removed from her lap and tossed back to the bed. Trembling hands slowly unwound the cloth from around the blade it hid, revealing a dagger, black in entirety from tip to rear bolster. Red-rimmed, puffy eyes stared at the item of her past self-abuses, the thing that would help her leave this world once and for all. Outside, a series of clouds moved before the moon, draining the light from Ael's spot on the floor. It almost seemed to be denying her the light by which to harm herself.
The damn darkness is never ending, Ael cried internally. It seems determined to follow me to the bitter end of it all.
Pressing the tip of the blade into the pad of her first finger, Ael watched the droplet of red fluid fall to her knees. Surprisingly, it didn't really hurt. Maybe she was too numb to feel even pain.
Mind continually touching on the fact she could have had one last chance at a saving grace had Jeff's orders been discovered earlier, allowing her to act, Ael grit her teeth against the reminder and allowed the straps of her tank top to fall away. With the tip of the blade poised beneath her left clavicle, Ael pulled down sharply, the cut ending above her breast. Already, she felt the warmth of her life force as it ran out and down her front, though not as intensely as she'd initially expected. The process was repeated on the other side, Ael's vision becoming fuzzy around the edges.
Though it should have been a quick death, as most ritual suicides to prevent disgrace and dishonor tended to be, Ael somehow felt that her release should be a slow, agonizing one.
I came into this world miserable and unwanted, had a life filled with pain; I may as well leave the world as I came into it: Crying, wishing to God for someone to take care of me.
"To think I would ever find a family," said Ael tiredly through a new set of tears. "To think I might one day get to Romulus, have a new beginning. What a cruel joke it all was. I should have known better than to think anyone could ever love a little nothing like me."
Another sob caught in her throat, Ael allowing her body to curl up on the floor, blood continuing to pour out of one wound a bit faster than the other, yet still not enough to drag her away from life into the icy cold clutches of Death.
Hand placed over the general's photograph, Ael whispered apology after apology. A gust of wind howled almost sadly outside.
Consumed by overwhelming feelings of hurt, guilt, and total inadequacy, Ael's fingers wrapped around the photo, a trembling hand raising it up just enough that she could make out Movar's image.
"I-I love you," Ael whispered. "Forgive me." Eyes drifting closed, still more life left in her body than most would assume, Ael patiently waited for the inevitable to come.
What pulled her away from the peaceful sleep Ael desired was the unmistakable sound of the front door. A familiar voice, somehow shrouded in haze, echoed through the empty house.
"You should definitely have the infirmary detoxify your system when you get to spacedock, or your captain is going to have you scrubbing plasma conduits on your first day!"
"Tell me about it, but I couldn't resist a night out with my boys!"
He hadn't left early after all, and now here she was, bleeding out on her bedroom floor, in the dark.
Ael eased her aching body away from the floor, gritting her teeth together in agony as she pressed her shirt to her wounds and began to force herself across the floor, much in the way a baby would drag themselves along before learning how to crawl. The conversation continued on in the hall, Jeff, and someone still at the front door, calling back and forth to one another.
"I know the feeling. You should probably try and get a little sleep, I'll be by to collect you at oh four hundred. You should be a little soberer by then. Well, we hope!"
"Sounds like a plan. I'll see you in a few hours."
The front door closed, Ael never able to figure out who had come in the front door with Jeff, but for the first time in her life, she didn't care about the little details, and also for the first time in her life she was glad that her brother had come home.
"Jennifer!"
Ael instinctively shrank back from the loud calling of her name, her sore, abused body protesting the sudden motion. "Go away," she whispered hoarsely, thankful her door was locked.
"Useless girl probably forgot to come home again, not like it matters to me. I'll be gone before the little targ knows anything."
Careful to stay silent, Ael listened to her brother enter his still well-lit room, hearing him curse at the sudden pain likely shooting through his head in response to his drunken state. A minute later and the shower in Jeff's room was running. Shivering against the cold from blood loss, Ael slowly inched her way up the bathroom wall until she was upright, tormented body begging for mercy all the while.
I can't fall down, Ael told herself sternly. If I do, there is no way I'm getting up again.
A towel was pulled from a hook on the wall, Ael shakily pressing the thing to her body. Fumbling for the standard medical kit she kept stowed beneath the sink, Ael pulled out a hypospray, injecting herself with a fast-acting coagulant. For what feels like hours Ael holds the towel to her chest, finally daring to pull it back, relieved to see the gashes are now only oozing rather than gushing. But there is a lot of damage done.
It takes nearly every last ounce of strength for Ael to shower, a hand clamped over her mouth to stop the cries of pain when the warm water splashed down her front. Reeling with dizziness, Ael finishes her short shower, praying her wounds are clean, though they are now beginning to bleed again.
Concentrating on the thin ray of hope that had suddenly resurfaced, Ael slowly dried and dressed, applying gauze pads from the medical kit to her wounds beforehand. The last thing she needed was for blood to leak through her clothing. Opting for a long sleeved shirt in Azure, the garment falling to her knees, and a pair of plain black leggings, Ael sighed in relief and allowed her body a bit of rest.
A quick brushing of her hair, the copper tendrils pulled back into a ponytail, Ael allowed her weary body to sit on the bed before she fell. Mentally, she began to think of what she needed to pack. There was no way in hell she would be left behind now.
The process was agonizingly slow but soon Ael had packed her bag, a good-sized satchel, with bits and pieces most essential to her. Two changes of clothes and a comfortable nightgown, Mr. Mittens; a few PADDs, a small package of fruity hard candies that tingled, and one of her favorite chocolate bars even though replicating them aboard the Stargazer would be easy enough.
Into the satchel, next to last, went Ael's portable desktop monitor, a much more streamlined device than the bulkier one found in the study. Slim, easy to carry and conceal; Ael wondered if she might learn how to make use of it in order to send and receive encrypted messages, say, across the Neutral Zone and back again.
Last of all was a bound leather journal, its ivory colored pages showing signs of wear around the edges. The reddish colored leather was scuffed in places, obvious wear, and tear, but otherwise, carefully cared for.
Opening the journal gave one a view of a curvaceous alien script, all of Ael's hopes, dreams, her fears, her learnings, written down where virtually no one could decipher them. Well, unless they happened to be fluent in the Romulan way of writing. Writing this way over the years made Ael feel safe. If her parents had ever seen the book, she had always hidden it carefully, they likely dismissed it as a child's worthless scribbles when, to Ael, they were everything.
Once retrieved from the floor, Movar's photograph, significantly marred with sadness and grief, was placed inside the book. Everything was now packed and ready, Ael zipping the satchel closed, adjusting the chest strap to give her some leeway later on. It was going to hurt a bit.
For now, the satchel was carried normally, Ael peeking out into the hall, relief flooding over her when she hears snoring coming from down the hall. Tiptoeing out the front door, mainly to catch the cool night breeze, which felt heavenly against her body, Ael transfixed her eyes on the heavens. The moon is out again, too, the clouds all but washed away by the breeze.
"I'm coming home," said Ael to a spot in the sky no one else could see. Breathing in the crisp air deeply, Ael closed her eyes, another breeze coming along as if to caress her, ruffling her hair almost lovingly.
The Elements surely watched over her, saddened in one moment, the moon hiding, all growing cold, then suddenly the night sky clear, stars abundant, the breeze gentle, almost warm.
Yes, child, a faint voice in the cool night air seemed to say. Come home; you have truly been away for far too long, there is nothing for you under this blanket of foreign stars. Begin your journey home, we are waiting.
…
For what feels like hours I stare up at the stars, my sore, assaulted body begs me to sit and I do. My gaze never leaves the sky. It's suddenly so real, how close I am to leaving this wretched place, a place I never belonged. At last, I force my body upright and head into the house, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Not that it matters since Jeffery is snoring like a freight train. Not even Klingons doing battle in the streets could wake that boy.
Head throbbing, I make my way down to the now-darkened study adjoining the living room, the same little light, still blinking away, inviting me over once again. Invitation accepted.
Curling up in chairs like a cat is a recent habit of mine, a habit currently painful due to the still oozing cuts on my chest. Not that it's any less painful to sit like a normal person. The sensations are difficult to ignore but I try. The message I'd seen not long ago is quickly accessed again.
"If you have any questions or concerns before your arrival, then you may contact me through the channel listed at the end of this message," says Brookes.
"Done," I say quietly in response. A jolting snore comes from down the hall and I freeze, allowing a hint of tension to slide off my back when the sound of snoring begins again. That was a little too close.
A quietly spoken word to the device brings forth the seal of the Federation of Planets. Circular with a golden edge, the inner portion of the circle several shades of blue, silvery-white stars dotted within, three stars larger than the others, at the forefront of the design, all tucked neatly into the "arms" of a golden laurel. Not long after the seal appears, it vanishes, the kind, round face of Captain Brookes takes its place.
"This is Captain Brookes," he says, his greyish-blue eyes staring at me, confused. After spending a moment obviously trying to remember where he might know me from, Brookes tips his head and asks, "Who might you be, young lady?"
There is some surprise on my part. I wonder why he hasn't asked how in the world I gained access to his private office on board the Stargazer. It will likely be a question he asks later. For the moment, he is kind, more soft-spoken than a captain should be. Not that I blame him any; I have to resemble a pitiful specimen of something by now.
"Forgive the intrusion," I say a bit meeker than I mean. "This is a private channel, I know, but, um…" I pause, turn my head, a wave of panic shoots through me when I no longer hear Jeff's chainsaw-like snores assaulting my ears from down the hall. I hope he's only changed positions on the bed, rolled to his side perhaps. As long as I don't hear footfalls, there is no reason for immediate panic.
"It's my brother," I say quickly. "Jeffery Wallace. He's due to board the Stargazer today but there's a personal issue I doubt he's mentioned."
Brookes' expression changes when I mention my brother. Suddenly, he gets a look of recognition. "Are your parents by chance Garret and Charlene Wallace?"
I nod once, barely halting the shiver that threatens to run from head to toe. "Yes". Without warning, the anxiety I feel bears down on my shoulders and I struggle not to cry. A tear or two probably won't hurt my case any, I mean, I am trying to get off this rock and then there's the crippling depression. My chest hurts, I feel afraid; the tears come without prompting, so does the stutter I've always been plagued by in times of severe stress. I think it helps my case further.
"P-please, listen," I say tearfully. It feels like my throat is closing up. "There isn't m-much time. D-don't let me die here." A bit too dramatic perhaps, though everything I certainly feel.
Without a doubt, my words capture Brookes' attention immediately. The stare of concern from before is back. "Hold on now, what do you mean? Jennifer, isn't it?"
No! I almost scream at him. Don't call me such a horrible, vile thing! My name is Ael, do you hear? But I don't. I only nod, gulp back a sob, wipe a hand over my eyes. "I-I wish I had the courage to say something t-to someone y-years ago."
Brookes' expression changes once more, several creases form on his brow, concern turns to downright worry.
"Listen," I said with a shaky inhale of breath. I don't want to stammer, it makes me feel stupid. "My parents are not the wonderful souls Starfleet thinks." Again, I bat the tears off my cheeks. "When they left for their last assignment; they abandoned me here. Yes, alone," I continue. Surprise now shows on the captain's face, mixed in with the worry, even some disbelief finds its way into his countenance. "I have been alone for months. My brother received his most recent orders several days back. Once he leaves…"
I'm upset, my voice rising in both pitch and volume before I can stop it from happening. The fear I've been bottling up for months finally pours out.
"How am I supposed to survive on the streets of San Francisco?" I ask, no, I beg. "Captain, I am barely fifteen, have very little in the way of possessions, with no other family that I know of. For all I know, I won't be allowed to remain in this house once Jeff leaves. They, my parents, my brother; they are never coming back for me."
Aside from the chirping of a cricket in the corner of the room, he must have come inside when Jeff went out earlier in the afternoon, there is only silence. I wish Jeff would start snoring again, anything to make me believe he hasn't woken, possibly listening right outside the study.
Keeping the secrets of my family, of my home life has been one hell of a burden over the course of my fifteen years. Is it any wonder it's all finally spilling out? I take a moment to catch my breath. Silently, I wonder how much more I should disclose. Oh, there is little doubt the captain of the Stargazer will be sending word to the captain of the Enterprise, Jean-Luc Picard, I think his name is, the very ship on which my parents currently serve, ordering some form of investigation on two very specific officers.
I dare not say anything more. It would put a tremendous cramp in my plan if the entire family is rounded up for interviews at Starfleet HQ or wherever it is they conduct investigations of suspected abuse and abandonment of the children of officers in the fleet. I still want…need to get on board the Stargazer with Jeff.
After what feels like an eternity of silence, Brookes says, "Well, now, I never would have suspected." Another few moments of silence elapses. I think he still can't quite believe it.
"P-please," I stammer, this time on purpose. "Allow me to board the Stargazer with my brother. He leaves in barely a few hours and I-I just don't know what I-I'm supposed to do."
From confusion, to worry, from surprise to disbelief, to now of utmost seriousness; Captain Brookes' face covers a multitude of expressions in barely a few minutes. Hands clasp together to sit on his desk. Brookes says, "I am concerned by the things you have disclosed, Jennifer. Now, while there will be, at some point, a formal investigation, there is little can be done at this exact moment in regards to your parents. The Enterprise is nearly at the tail end of the quadrant, and last I heard they were having a bit of trouble with a new species."
Whatever this new species is, I kind of hope it eats them both.
"For now," continues Brookes, "I do think it would be in your best interest to board with your brother. The shuttle pilot will be informed of the extra passenger."
I've done it! Something inside of me screams in triumph. One step closer to home. "Thank you, sir," I say gratefully.
"It's the correct action to take," he assures me. More silence, this time as he consults something on a nearby PADD. "Now, Lieutenant Wallace's posting on the Stargazer is set to last for six months, at which point he is due on Starbase 39-Sierra. The USS Apache should be departing 39-Sierra for Earth around the same timeframe. It can ferry both you and Lieutenant Wallace back home. Don't worry," he says as if to calm me, "I plan to make certain your parents are recalled at the same time. We will get to the bottom of this."
Too bad I won't be coming back, I think. As good as it would make me feel to see my parents get what they deserve for my years of torment, including the loss of their Starfleet careers, possibly prison time, hopefully on some Klingon moon somewhere, the thought of being shuffled off to some foster home afterward isn't sitting well.
Before a response can work its way past my lips, Jeff bursts into the darkened study. I bolt upright, almost tripping over the chair, hand pressed over my heart that currently beat several miles a minute. How had I not heard his footsteps down the hardwood floors? Near the middle of the hallway, there is a section of the floor that creaks a bit when trod on. Jeff never misses stepping on it. I guess he did tonight. Just my luck.
"You horrid little snoop," he growls at me, advancing forwards. How he doesn't see his soon-to-be commanding officer on the screen, dead center on the desk is beyond me. I back up fast. I think Jeff might be about to hit me. "Who gave you permission to be in here? This area has always been off-limits to you!"
Captain Brookes clears his throat, Jeff's tirade stops mid-insult and he turns. The color drains from his face and I smile behind my hand.
"Well, that was certainly something to see," says the captain, not at all amused.
"C-Captain!" Jeff yelps, startled and anxious. I can never remember a time I've heard a stammer come out of my brother. Jeff pales dramatically, and then sits in the chair I almost tripped over, attempting to regain at least a hint of composure. "My sister is not supposed to be in here," he says, frantic.
"Then it's a good thing she has a rebellious side, isn't it, Lieutenant," says Brookes, his tone suddenly harsh, unforgiving. The way the captain says the word "lieutenant"… I wonder how long it will take before brother dearest is knocked back down to ensign. "To say I was sorely unaware of the situation within your home is a bit of an understatement." He glances quickly at me. I still cower a bit behind the chair. "There are likely other things regarding the situation that your sister has yet to tell anyone. Is that right, son?"
Jeff's complexion pales to the point it resembles my normal one. One of his hands nervously runs through his mop of brown hair, which is currently sticking up every which way from sleep. "Situation, sir?" It's obvious the captain isn't buying it.
"Do not play dumb with me, son," Brookes says firmly. "The situation and you do know to what I am referring, will be investigated within the year. However, at the present moment, with your departure to the Stargazer imminent; Jennifer will be joining you aboard for the duration of your assignment."
It's all I can do to hold in some giggles. Jeff's expression is thunderous for a nanosecond, then changes to one I can only describe as full of panic. Honestly, I feel somewhat in a panic, too. What if we're assigned to the same quarters aboard the Stargazer. I will be a last minute passenger, added to a likely already full crew compliment. Any thoughts about being forced to bunk with my horrible brother I push from my mind. I can figure it out later.
I watch the captain consult his PADD, and then he says, "I will be sending a shuttle for you both. Expect it to arrive in two hours."
"Sir, I already have trans-" Jeff tries to say.
"Cancel it." Brookes is definitely not making a request.
Jeff responds weakly. "Yes, sir."
"Good. Then I will see you both soon." A smile for me, a harsh glare at Jeff, Captain Brookes terminates the transmission. For a minute, Jeff stares at the darkened screen, his posture slumps in defeat, mouth agape like a fish out of water. He's processing.
While he gapes, I begin to back away from my position behind the chair to head for the door. I ease backward, muscles tense like a nervous animal ready to bolt at the first sign of danger is how I move. While I doubt Jeff is going to try something exceptionally stupid with the captain expecting us both to arrive aboard ship in one piece, I can't help my wariness.
Before I can reach the door, Jeff bolts upright and whirls to face me, glaring, intense hate behind his stare. I don't think I've seen him this angry at me in years.
"Oh, you are going to pay for this, you wretched little targ," he snarls at me.
I fold my arms, glare back, hold my ground. I'm still ready to rush away towards the door if it comes to it. "Believe me," I spit sourly, "I already am. If you think not being able to finally be rid of me for life is pissing you off, remember that all crew quarters are likely already assigned. And since I am a last minute passenger…"
Realization hits Jeff like a ton of proverbial bricks and he steps back by two steps. "Are you saying-? This is unreal!" Now he's yelling. I half expect for whatever is in grabbing range to suddenly fly across the room.
"Planning to stamp your feet next?" I ask coolly? "Or maybe you want to drop to the floor and kick and scream like you're two. Actually, don't you do that now, when you don't get your own way?"
It's like he can't hear me over his inane ranting. "Stuck with you for months! Those quarters are small enough as it is! You may be boarding with me, you little brat, but I swear to God that I will get reassigned to different, private quarters one way or another!"
Stalking past, Jeff departs the study. I can hear him stomp up the hall. Now, it sounds like he's throwing things around his room. Typical.
"Months," I mumble to myself. "I don't need that long. Once we reach the perimeter of the Neutral Zone, I should only need a few days or so to get a transmission across the border to any ships, cloaked or otherwise in range, yeah?" It seems simple enough. I know it really isn't. "How long does it even take to get to the border of the Zone?" I continue to muse aloud, thinking it has to be less than a week. I'm also counting on a vessel to be on the other side of the border.
"There's always a cloaked ship out there," I say to the door before I step through. I turn, staring up the hall where I can still hear Jeff making an ungodly racket. "Don't worry, Jeff. We'll be rid of each other soon enough. Just remember: One day in the future, I will be able to pay you, and our parents back for every nasty, horrible thing you've put me through. One day, it'll be you who begs mercy from me."
I head back to my room, put on shoes, grab my satchel. The strap that sits across my chest brings instant tears to my eyes from the pain. I wipe them away and grit my teeth. True, I can always take a dermal regenerator from the home's medical kit, healing my wounds within mere seconds. I can't say I feel like it. Actually, I'm still not thinking clearly. With how deep my wounds are, a dermal regenerator won't accomplish anything but frustration. An autosuture is more what I need not that I have one.
The cool breeze outside helps me to feel better. I sit on the steps, stare up at the stars beginning to fade. This is where I am until the stars blink away into a smooth backdrop of purple, pink and a hint of orange, and then the shuttle swoops down out of the sunrise to collect me and my brother.
My body quivers with nervous, excited energy during the shuttle ride up to the Stargazer. Normally, shuttle rides make me feel queasy even though there are inertial dampeners in place, ensuring one is unable to feel the motion of the craft. Well, unless something hits you. This time, I don't feel sick. Not right away.
Though I'm sore, I clutch my satchel tight to my chest, ignoring the painful soreness and mumble a soft, nearly silent prayer.
"Kholairlh'sa flaeon thlom…" Elements protect me.
I am definitely going to need the protection and watchful eyes of the Elements, think of them as the Romulan Gods and Goddesses, over the days to come, possibly weeks as I try to find my way home.
By the time the shuttle touches down in the Stargazer's shuttle bay, whether it be from excitement, nervousness or the effects of the shuttle flight finally hitting me, I'm queasy. It's a little difficult to keep my chocolate bar in my stomach. I'm tempted to lose it on Jeff's less than shiny Starfleet issue boots.
I make my way out of the shuttle before Jeff can move from his seat. I'm feeling a bit woozy, my balance a bit off-kilter.
"Are you all right, young lady? Easy there, don't fall over." A strong hand reaches out and braces against my shoulder to keep me upright.
"Thank you," I say, gazing up at Captain Brookes with a grateful smile. He's much taller than I thought, standing around six feet one. Cool greyish blue eyes stare at me kindly, they ask if I am all right. "Sometimes, I get a bit shuttle sick. I'm just a little woozy."
"It happens to the best of us," Brookes assures me, giving my shoulder a pat. Then he steps back to appraise me. "You've certainly grown quite a bit since I last saw you."
My eyes flick to my left. Jeff is annoyed at the pleasantries taking place between me and his captain. Good.
"Really?" I ask, feeling surprise. I laugh a little. "I guess so, but I'm still a bit, well, short." The last time the captain ever saw me, I was probably under four feet. I guess I have grown a bit.
"My daughter had a sudden growth-spurt at your age," says Brookes, clasping his hands behind his back. "She ended up at nearly six feet tall by the time she stopped growing."
Somehow, I doubt I'm going to gain another single inch of height within my lifetime much less an entire foot. Besides, I sort of enjoy being small in stature. Well, except for when I need to reach something on a high shelf. Anyway, that's what stepstools are for.
The captain's attention turns from me to my brother who now stands as close to attention as possible, no longer choosing to glare at me where he hopes Brooke's can't see.
"Lieutenant Wallace," says Brookes in a voice that says he wonders what should be done with the brother who had been about to abandon his little sister to the streets of San Francisco. "Once you and Jennifer have settled into your quarters-" Joy. I do have to room with him. Ugh is more like it. "I would like you to report to engineering. The chief engineer, Commander Collins, will brief you."
A PADD appears in Jeff's hand. He looks at it, lowers it to his side and only has a, "yes, Captain," to say. And then, "If I may ask, sir-"
Captain Brookes holds up a single hand to request silence. My brother complies but is clearly unhappy about being quieted. I know he's going to ask about switching quarters not that I think it is likely to happen. At least, if it does happen, it won't be for Jeff's benefit. It will be for mine.
"I know what you're about to ask me, Lieutenant. Currently, all crew quarters are occupied. You do have a slightly larger set because you now have an extra occupant. At the moment, there is nothing to be done but make the best of the situation. And, Lieutenant Wallace, you will make the best of it. Understood?"
"Yes, Captain," says Jeff, unease in his tone.
"For now, get settled as best you can." I think he's speaking to me more than he is my brother. "Lieutenant, report to main engineering within the hour."
We're barely clear of the shuttle bay and down the corridor when Jeff feels the need to verbally lash me, albeit much softer than I think he prefers. I tune it out. I'm used to it.
A Romulan can easily wait out her enemy, I think to myself. To Romulans, most encounters are like a game of chess, involving strategy, the patience to wait for their next move.
I ignore Jeff the entire way to our quarters, a painfully slow journey, especially when inside the turbolift. Thankfully, we both arrive in one piece; I very nearly gave him a swift kick at one point.
The room isn't as small as I was expecting but not as big, either. Still, it isn't so bad. To the right of the door is the food replicator, to the left, bunk beds. The bunks are embedded in the wall, a dark blue sheet covering the mattress, matching blanket over the sheet, a matching pillow up top. I see some shelving, a workstation, and desk, an armchair, and couch; in an alcove near the back of the room is the toilet and basin, a sonic shower behind a partition. A small viewport is fixed on the bulkhead near the armchair. I go immediately to it and stare out into space.
My eyes are already lost in the sea of stars shining, twinkling in the velvety blackness. Somewhere behind me, Jeff continues to rant. Soon enough, I will gaze upon a different set of stars entirely. Romulan stars. They will guide me home to a world I have always wished to see, home to a people I have always called my own. Those stars now so close will guide me to the Empire.