A/N: For those that are interested, the events in this chapter take place after "Exigency" and coincide with chapter 37 of "Rising Son" and chapter 1 of "Tribute". Please pardon some of the language...also, I used Google Translate for the French so if there are any glaring errors please let me know. And now welcome back to Se'tak's world = )

Homecoming

Paris Transport Station, Paris, France, 2290.17, 0952 hours. Se'tak sat in his seat, leg jiggling, and anxiously glanced down at his wristwatch. The funeral was set to start in an hour and they hadn't even been allowed to get off the transport yet. His homecoming was off to one hell of a start.

After his initial contract was over he re-upped with the Federation Peace Corp. and was still working with them when he got word about Uncle Pavel. He'd had no idea what his parents had been up to and even now he still couldn't believe the news. Once he explained the situation he got out of his contract and hopped the first transport home. That'd been about a month ago and he was originally supposed to get in last night but an ion storm pushed them off course for a couple hours and now here he was about to miss the funeral.

"Passengers in Section D may now disembark," the computerized voice announced. Se'tak leapt to his feet and grabbed his carry-on from the overhead bin before half the passengers around him even stirred. Thanking his long, lean, Vulcan build he strode toward the terminal and reached the baggage corral in record time. He was so fast, in fact, that he arrived ahead of his luggage.

"You've gotta be kidding me!" he cried out as he watched the same floral suitcase circle around unclaimed for the sixth time. A few people turned to stare but most just went about their own business. Se'tak didn't care. He had a funeral to get to, dammit, and he absolutely was not going to be late!

After an agonizing wait his battered and dusty duffle finally made it's way down the chute and Se'tak lunged to grab it. As he navigated his way through the terminal to the hover cab stand he kept checking his watch. 52 minutes. He thought he might make it—he was hauling ass to try, that's for sure—until he stepped outside and saw the line of people waiting for rides. It extended long past the terminal.

He was fucked.

Se'tak stared at the line then back down at the private flitter rental kiosk. Not only was it expensive but the line there appeared to be moving about as quickly as the one for the cab. Taking a calculated risk he approached the elderly woman at the front of the queue as the next flitter pulled up.

"Excusez-moi madame, mais je suis en espérant que je pourrais prendre votre taxi. Je dois être à un enterrement en 50 minutes,*" he said with a smile on his face.

His request didn't go as planned as her wrinkled face turned on him in a glower. Without warning she began to repeatedly whack him in the arm with her handbag while screaming loudly in rapid French. The only words he caught as he dodged the worst of her blows were "terrible man", "lie" and "steal". As he stumbled away from her Se'tak tripped on the curb and ended up on his butt on the sidewalk. The old woman gave him a few more hits to the head before she felt satisfied then calmly entered the flitter and drove off leaving him battered, sore, and still very much in need of a ride.

"Excusez-moi?"

Se'tak cringed and kept his arm up to protect himself. With his luck the old lady doubled back to finish him off, he knew it. "Eh, do you speak Standard, monsieur?" Not recognizing the voice he hesitantly peered up and found himself staring into the face of a leggy, gorgeous, brunette smiling down at him. "You need to go to enterrement, no?"

"Yes, yes I do."

"I will help you. We share taxi, ok?"

Yes! "Thank you. Thank you very much." When the next flitter approached he assisted her with her bags and held open the door before quickly jumping in himself.

"Où voulez-vous aller?*" the driver impatiently asked.

His companion quickly rattled off an address in Montmarte and they started to pull away from the curb. "Je dois le Grand Hôtel du Palais Royal, s'il vous plaît,*" Se'tak hastened to add. The young woman beside him raised one carefully sculpted eyebrow in obvious surprise; meanwhile the cab driver gave them a nod and headed that way.

"You are staying at Grand Hotel, Monsieur…?"

"Se'tak." He extended a hand to the fetching creature beside him. "Je m'apelle Se'tak." He took her well-manicured hand in his and brought it to his lips. His companion was smitten.

"I am Amelie. It is very pleasing to meet you."

"It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for coming to my rescue back there."

Amelie smiled fetchingly. "You are most welcome."

"Do you know why that woman hit me?" he asked, unconsciously rubbing his bruised shoulder.

"She did not think that you could be saying the truth, dressed as you are. She thought it was terrible that you would lie that way to steal a taxi."

At that Se'tak looked down and took good stock of his person. It was true he hadn't showered in—awhile—and his Mudge Sludge t-shirt had seen better days…and his jeans were old and ripped; but his boots were in decent shape and the scarf around his neck was bought at the Minar Bazaar 2 weeks ago and still looked new. "What made you believe me?"

"Un enterrement is too terrible to lie about, no?"

"It is, yes." At the reminder of the funeral he looked down at his feet and thought of Uncle Pavel. It'd been 4 months since they'd last talked, but then again he'd never been that great at keeping in touch. Still, Uncle Pavel had always been the best one to go to for 'adwice'. Knowing he was gone was just awful.

"Who is died?"

"My uncle." As Se'tak looked up he saw the flicker of confusion and realized she didn't know the word. "Mon oncle."

Amelie put a sympathetic hand on his leg and frowned. "Ah. I am sorry."

"Je suis aussi.*" They sat in silence for the rest of the ride until the Hotel was in view.

"I do not do this," she said as she pulled her PADD out of her bag, "But if you want to talk…?" Amelie transmitted her contact info to his device while he paid the driver.

"Merci, Amelie. Au revoir."

"Au revoir." He hauled himself out of the back seat and shifted his duffle onto his shoulder. As the taxi pulled away he looked up at the august façade before him then realized he had 38 minutes to get to the cemetery and rushed inside.

The concierge wasn't difficult to locate and Se'tak bustled up to her station. "Il ya une…" his voice trailed off as he blanked on the French word for envelope then tried the next best thing. "Il ya une lettre ici pour Se'tak, no?*" He held his breath, half-expecting her to dismiss him simply based on his appearance, as the woman did at the taxi stand.

"May I see some identification please?" she asked.

Exhaling in relief, Se'tak quickly rifled through his duffle until he found his ID chit and handed it over. She quickly got the envelope and he ripped it open to find the room key Mama and Sa-mekh left behind. "Excuse me?" he asked the concierge again. "Would it be possible to have a flitter waiting to take me to Père-LaChaise in…" Se'tak glanced at his watch, quickly calculating how long it would take him to get showered, shaved, and changed. "20 minutes?"

"Absolutment, monsieur."

He was so grateful for her help he leaned over the table and kissed her on each cheek, startling her out of her cool, professional demeanor. "Merci!" he called back over his shoulder as he raced for the stairs.

Taking the steps 2 at a time to the 3rd floor Se'tak quickly found the room; he just as swiftly dumped his duffle and began peeling off his clothes before the door had time to fully shut. His time in the FPC taught him how to make the most of a sonic shower so he was freshly scrubbed and presentable in the dark tailored suit Mama left for him in the wardrobe when he flew down the stairs again and into the lobby. The concierge from earlier did a double-take before recognizing him and she personally escorted him into the waiting hover cab.

"Merci," he said again as he hopped into the back of the flitter. "Cimetière du Père-LaChaise, si'l vouz plaît…" Se'tak ordered the driver, "Aussi vite que vous le pouvez!*"

Se'tak held his breath the entire ride. The driver risked life and limb in the airspace over Paris, banking turns at speeds he wouldn't dare have tried himself; but in the end it still wasn't enough. He was late. He could see everyone at the top of the hill gathered around the priest at the gravesite. Se'tak bolted from of the cab and hurried to join them but once again luck wasn't on his side.

Security was tight around the perimeter and no sooner had he set foot in the cemetery than a beefy-looking Starfleet officer stepped right into his path. "This is a private service."

Se'tak threw up his hands in exasperation. "I know that! I was invited!" The officer didn't even flinch.

"I'll need to see some ID," he said as he extended his hand.

Exasperated beyond belief Se'tak patted first his pant pockets, then his jacket pockets, and finally his inner breast pocket before coming up empty on all counts. Completely flustered he tried to think of where he'd last seen his ID chit and realized with a groan that he'd left it at the concierge stand at the hotel.

"Noo…."

"Is there a problem?"

"I left it at the hotel," Se'tak explained, hoping against hope that he wouldn't be turned away.

"Like I said before," the unsympathetic officer interjected, "This is a private service. Without verifying your ID I can't let you through."

"But I…" Se'tak didn't finish the thought as he caught sight of Sa-mekh over the officer's shoulder headed their way.

"Lieutenant. Is there a problem?"

"This young man says that he was invited to the service but he doesn't have ID."

"I see." Sa-mekh turned his attention on him then back to the junior officer. "I will vouch for his identity. He is my son. Come along, Se'tak."

He hung his head like a little schoolboy caught making mischief at recess. "Yes, Sir." The lieutenant resumed his position guarding the perimeter and the two of them walked back up the hill.

"I'm sorry, Sa-mekh. I didn't mean to make a scene."

"I know, sa-fu." Sa-mekh took a deep breath. "Given the timing of your transport it is remarkable that you are present at all. Your attendance here on this day is most acceptable. Your mother and brother will be exceptionally pleased."

Se'tak smiled a little in spite of himself. "I missed you too, Sa-mekh." They parted company at the top of the hill when he went to stand by his brother and cousins for the remainder of the service.

Grand Hotel du Palais Royal, Paris, France, 2290.17, 1459 hours. He sat at an angle at the table with his cousins, his long legs stretched out before him and a drink resting idly in his hands. Swirling the ice a few times Se'tak took a good sip of the strong whiskey and relished the burn as it traveled down his throat. Maybe it was too early for hard liquor but if ever a day called for it today was the day.

His gaze flitted about the room before finally settling on Max. The Enterprise kids had always worked hard to include him even though he wasn't born on the ship like they'd been and he and Max in particular had a very close bond. It used to be a running joke that Se'tak had 2 younger brothers and there was a time not too long ago where he couldn't take a step without tripping over Max; but today his youngest cousin never left his father's side and barely said a word. His reticence didn't escape anyone's notice and they were all worried but it bothered Se'tak on an even deeper level. He could feel the anger broiling just beneath the surface and remembered a time when his own grief had been just as raw. He worried what the 13 year old might do when the pressure got to be too much and he finally cracked.

"Tak?"

"Hm?"

He turned to face the table and caught Kyson looking at him. "Not quite the homecoming you were expecting, is it?"

"No, not exactly," Se'tak replied. He took another small sip of whiskey.

"What're you going to do now that you're done with the Peace Corp?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "Nothing much. Probably bum around San Francisco for a bit. Get a job. Head back here later in the year for school."

"What're you studying?" Sam asked, eyes twitching with mischief, "Parisian supermodels?" Lily punched her twin in the arm and he visibly winced.

Before he could answer Selas piped up, "Se'tak will be attending L'École Robert Avril de la Diplomatie in the Fall." Se'tak tried and failed to hide the blush that rose to his cheeks as his cousins all murmured in appreciation.

"Hopefully I'll major in diplomacy." Then in an attempt to lighten the mood and with a wink in Sam's direction he added, "And minor in supermodels." Being closer to him than Lily was Becca wound up and whacked him hard in the arm. He kept forgetting his little cousin was Starfleet now—and she definitely didn't pull her punches.

Se'tak laughed with the rest of them but his heart wasn't in it. As he rubbed the sore spot on his bicep he cast a sidelong glance in Max's direction. He had a feeling September wouldn't come soon enough.

* "Excusez-moi madame…" = "Excuse me madam, but I was hoping I might take your taxi. I have to be at a funeral in 50 minutes."

* "Où voulez-vous aller?" = "Where do you want to go?"

* "Je dois…" = "I need the Grand Hotel du Palais Royal please."

* "Je suis aussi" = "I am also."

* "Il ya une…" = "There is a letter for Se'tak, no?"

* "Cimetière du Père-LaChaise…" = "Pere-LaChaise Cemetery please…as fast as you can!"