Orlyanal, Sea of Lataan, Senes, Stardate 2292.288

Losha slept little that night. Though he was emotionally exhausted, a barrage of thoughts had assailed his mind and he couldn't shut them off. His father was dead, and while he had suspected this was a possibility, confirmation was something he hadn't been prepared for. Not knowing where he was and why he hadn't contacted him had been unsettling, but with not knowing there was at least hope. Now he knew, and though he supposed knowing was better, it still hurt. Emotions that he had long since moved on from reemerged in a torrent he was unable to hold back. He couldn't stop crying, and he cried not only over his father, but his mother, Kadren, and Vensar. He cried for Joa, who was still alive, but whose life was ruined, and for Naalem, who never had the opportunity to know his mother and had a distant relationship with his father. He cried for all the terrible things he had seen during the war. When his eyes were swollen and his head ached and there seemed to be no more tears left to cry, he lay there until he finally slept from sheer exhaustion.

He awoke to Betal knocking on his door a few hours later. Usually he would make his way downstairs on his own, where Betal would program the replicator and then assist him with breakfast. This morning they had to make an early start. He was exhausted, his head still ached, and he was hungry. Dinner the night before with Ambassador Sarek had been awkward. Vulcans did not touch their food with their hands at all, and while in Hakar it was acceptable to eat certain foods with the hands, blindness had forced him to touch almost everything on his plate. He didn't care if Malar or Betal saw him holding down a piece of food with one hand and sticking a fork into with the other, or simply picking the food up directly from his plate, but he didn't want Sarek to see him do it. Not being able to see also meant that eating had become messier, and he was constantly having to wipe his hands and face. He could have had Betal feed him, but being treated like a baby would have been even more humiliating. Instead, he had decided not to skip dinner. He had Betal give him a hypospray injection for his headache and bring breakfast directly to his room.

After he finished, she set out some clothes and left him to get ready on his own. The laser razor was easy enough to use and though he couldn't see the end result, he could feel it. Betal would let him know if he had missed a spot. The water temperature in the shower was preprogrammed and he only had to press a button to turn it on and off. He was determined to do as much as possible on his own. He made his way into the living room after he was done getting ready, and heard footsteps approaching as he sat down on a sofa.

"Come into the dining room. Katas is getting breakfast ready." Malar's voice came in from the hallway.

"Betal already brought me something."

"At least come and have something to drink." Then, lowering her voice, she added, "Don't be rude to our guest." She was right, he didn't want to be rude. He didn't feel like sitting a a table - he and Malar didn't usually have breakfast together as they typically got up at different times - but it would not have been right to leave Malar and Sarek dining alone.

Although it was mostly silent, breakfast seemed less awkward than dinner had been, mostly because Losha was so tired that he could think of little else. His headache was gone now, but his eyes felt swollen and he wondered if Malar and Sarek noticed.

Despite the bumpy ride into Undaa, he fell asleep shortly after they left the house and didn't awaken until the car stopped at Naalem's school. He felt even more exhausted than before, but Naalem's enthusiasm kept him awake for the remainder of the trip to the spaceport. He said little, though, only answering Naalem's flurry of questions. He was grateful that both Naalem's and Malar's outgoing personalities meant that he was not forced to speak in order to break an awkward silence. He didn't know what to say to Sarek, and was too tired to think about it. It was a relief when they finally got on the ship bound for Deep Space Four.

They, or at least he, Malar, and Sarek, spent the six and half hour trip to the station in the passenger lounge. Naalem went off to explore what parts of the ship he could, while Malar and Sarek, whom he did not hear talking, were presumably occupied with work on their padds. He awoke to the clink of utensils on plates a few hours later.

"I'm sorry if we woke you." He heard Malar's voice approaching. "But since you are awake, you can join us for lunch. What would you like?"

Truthfully, he was hungry and he knew he wouldn't be able to avoid eating in front of Sarek forever.

"Kaaze." It consisted of vegetables or replicated meat baked into a dough that was rolled up like a tube. He liked it, but chose it mainly because it was relatively easy to eat with one's hands.

"What do you want in it?"

"Any vegetable kaaze is fine."

"And to drink?"

"Tem tea." He felt groggy, and hoped that the tea would clear his head a bit.

"The table is this way," she said, touching his arm. He stood up, placed a hand on her shoulder, and followed her as she led him to a chair and table. He felt the table - it was round.

"Naalem is on your right and Sarek is across from you. I'll be back in a moment with your kaaze."

He sat down, but said nothing. What was there to say? Malar returned a moment later and sat on his left. Once he began to eat, he heard the others resume their meal as well. No one spoke, even after they had all finished and he was the last one eating. He wondered if they were staring at him and longed to eat quickly so he could leave the table, but didn't want to appear to be inhaling his food. After he had taken the last bite of the kaaze, Malar asked him if he wanted anything else, and after he declined, led him back to the lounge chair he'd been sitting in. From the sliding noise the chairs made, he could hear Naalem and Sarek leaving the table too.

"The chair is right here."

"Can you take me to the bathroom first?"

When he was once again seated in the lounge chair, he asked his padd for the time. Still another three and half hours left before they arrived at the station. He didn't want to talk to anyone, so he closed his eyes and pretended to sleep. Though he still felt tired, the tea kept him awake. He began to play the events of the day before over in his mind. Why had this alien killed his father? And why was some of the information surrounding his father's death classified? He couldn't imagine how his father had gotten involved with Starfleet personnel. Once they got to the station and he could speak with Ambassador Sarek in private, he would ask him.

There were many things he wanted to ask the man, but he felt paralyzed by awkwardness. At first he didn't understand it. Though not as outgoing as a typical Hakaran, he wasn't shy. He rarely had difficulties communicating with any of the various races of beings he met through his line of work. But he had had few encounters with Vulcans, and those he had met, he had only spoken with briefly and only concerning business. Would they place their finger on the padd to indicate the cargo had been received? That was about as personal a conversation he'd ever had with one of them. They were serious and unemotional and what kind of conversation could one have with people like that?

He normally wouldn't care about behaving "appropriately" in their presence, but he was going to their planet, and he knew he would stand out. Malar and Naalem needn't be worried because of course they would stand out, they were aliens. But the Vulcans would see him as one of them, and would expect him to behave accordingly, and he didn't even know what accordingly was.

He truly appreciated everything the ambassador, Sarek, was doing for him, but he didn't understand why. Why had he been willing to help him when he was a stranger? Didn't Vulcans stick to themselves? Perhaps his human wife had persuaded him to help. He knew many humans to be compassionate people and Amanda had been kind to both him and Naalem. But now, was Sarek only continuing to help out of obligation? He did not think Malar's suggestion that perhaps Sarek wanted to know him was accurate - most likely he had only informed him of their relationship because Vulcans didn't believe in lying. At least not lying about facts. Besides, now that he was legally allowed to go to Vulcan, he could probably have uncovered this information himself.

He couldn't imagine his father growing up with Sarek, or any Vulcan for that matter, as a father. What had his father's childhood been like? His mother's? Did his mother still have family on Vulcan? He knew that she had a brother and a niece, a niece whom she was fond of. Were they still alive? He didn't even know their names. He shouldn't waste his time thinking about it. He would go to Vulcan, have the surgery, and then return home to Senes. Everything would be as it was before, with the exception that he'd no longer have the inconvenience of being a stateless person. Yes, he would get the information he wanted from Sarek, and then he could move on.