The moment T'Anahos stepped past the gate onto the McCoy property, his legs were ambushed.
Giggling was heard as he quickly regained his balance. Two identical girls grinned at him. Sophia and Sally, his second cousins and the main troublemakers of the McCoy family. Along with his legs' captors. "Woah now, you two!"
"Mandukarus!" They both cheered. "You're back! Y'hhau!" Sally and Sophia were hard to tell apart to the unfamiliar eye. Both with cherry-blonde hair preferred at jaw-length that had a silky shine, faint Denobulan ridges framed their faces, and light blue-violet eyes that always glittered with mischief. Those eyes tended to freak out most they met. A fact they delighted in. Standing around 4'6" at 10 years of age, both had tells for who was who. Assuming they weren't intentionally trying to confuse. Sally wore a braid on the left side of her face, while Sophia wore hers on the right. While they were of the same mind and voice, Sophia spoke more than Sally and was normally the one to start conversations.
"You bet I am," He chuckled, raising both eyebrows. "I see y'all've been honing your talents for stealth. Didn't even hear you both!" Or smell them, for that matter. Romulans' sense of smell was strong and Terran typically had a potent scent for most Vulcanoid races. An impressive feat, masking it.
"Yeah! It drives dad nuts!" Sophia proudly stated.
"I'm sure it does."
Aensai chuffed and jumped down. The twins excitedly greeted her with scale scratches. She crooned, scales shimmering with blues and greens. Reveling in the attention.
T'Anahos lovingly shook his head.
"Not bothering ya too much are they?" He turned to find Henry, one of his many first cousins and the twins' father, walking up beside him. A somewhat lean man of 5'7" with skin toned from years of outdoor work and swept back dirty blonde hair that was shaved at the sides. Faint red still painted the tips where Henry tried dying his hair once. He smiled at T'Ana, warm brown eyes full of mirth. "They've been planin' their little ambush since ya told us you were comin'. Sis said they got ya."
"That they did. I'm quite impressed, really," With a sly grin, T'Ana added, "Best watch out. They'd make for good spies."
"Well, don't go givin' them any ideas! I'd rather they just add to the doctors in the family, not become some secret agents!"
Sophia and Sally giggled, sharing a look.
Their father narrowed his eyes, "Don't even think about it. Now, go get cleaned up. Dinner's soon to be ready."
"Alrighty!"
"Come on, Aensai!"
Henry and T'Anahos watched them go. "They're gonna be the death of me, alright." Henry said with a tired warmth then eyed his cousin. "Good to have ya back, by the way. Family's eager to see you again. Grandpa especially."
"I don't doubt that. I'd be lying if I said I hadn't missed y'all." That much was true, despite feeling out-of-place. The McCoys were welcoming toward him. Accepting. That was all he asked for, really...
"Well, as I told the girls: dinner'll be ready in a few. I'm sure you're wantin' to rest and get yer stuff put away." Henry nodded toward the house, clasping a hand on T'Ana's shoulder. "Come on, let's get ya inside."
T'Anahos stretched with a sigh. He had gotten most of the way unpacked, focusing primarily on his clothes. Majority of which were extra Starfleet uniforms and plain black outfits. A robe of blues and violet, a loose-fitting lavender shirt, light brown cargo pants, and his old uniform with its blood green sash stood out from the folded line-up. Roughly 7 years on the Enterprise and he saw little reason to expand his wardrobe. Something Havraha and certain fellow crewmates tried to remedy.
Well, if they weren't successful, the McCoys might be. At least, the moment his cousins and grandparents noticed this. Which they would. No doubt about it.
They already fussed over his thinness – a product of his premature birth. Much like Toran – his uncle – and Che'srik tr'Tal – another cousin.
Not his fault it was near impossible for him to gain much weight.
But if there was one thing he had learned, it was to turn what you have into an advantage. His leanness was no exception. Granting him quite a bit of agility. Not to mention how many times his opponents made the mistake of underestimating him.
It made Toran and Che'srik stop fussing. Mostly.
Chuckling to himself, T'Anahos put most of the clothes away while returning his uniform to the duffle bag. He wasn't surprised to see that the McCoys had already gotten him some spare clothes but appreciated the gesture.
One of the shirts was a soft gold and brown stripped sweater. Easy on Romulan eyes and pleasant to the touch. T'Anahos purred. That would do nicely for tonight.
The sweater and gifted pants fit comfortably. Not too tight or loose. Though he did need a belt for the pants.
Hair fixed back into its swept looked, he stepped out of the bathroom…and about tripped when his leg was grabbed again.
Wide green eyes stared at him. Full of excitement and curiosity. Little Lorccán. Henry's youngest. Wavey brown hair and faint ridges similar to the twins' framed his face which was dusted in freckles like most of the McCoys.
"Y'hhau, Lorccán," Kneeling, T'Anahos smiled gently. "Have you been waiting here this whole time?"
Lorccán nodded then held up a hand in inquiry. "Hand hug?" While not fully mute, Lor was not always capable of verbal communication. Sometimes it was simply difficult to find the right words. Signing was preferred, in either case. Standard sign language and Irish sign language were typically used. Standard with strangers, Irish with the family. He had asked to be taught Romulan sign language upon learning there was one and that T'Ana knew it. Well, Lor had asked to learn a lot of things Romulan. Especially familial gestures like the hand embrace.
"Of course, just hold up your hand like this…" T'Anahos showed Lor how to do the embrace. Lor grinned before staring in wonder at T'Ana's hand. He pulled back to stare at his own hand, then embraced T'Ana's again. He blinked at him, to which the Romulan chuckled. "Yes, I have a bit of a gift. Runs in my hru'di'ranovm side of the family."
The S'Harien "hands of peace" the ability was called. Rumored to run back to pre-Sundering times, with the weaponsmith S'Harien himself. Though others claim it was from one of his offspring that left with Tellus' and S'Task's followers. Regardless of how, it seemed genetically locked within the S'Harien bloodline.
T'Anahos' hru'di'ranov was no exception. The hands got past to his children- Toran, T'Auethn, and Pangaere-, then to T'Anahos and Fveikey. Their mother's Terran blood having little effect on it or its strength. Not that it was expected to.
It was a tad ironic. A weaponsmith having "hands of peace".
"I'm not very good at controlling it, however," For reasons unknown, some descendants found it near-impossible to control the ability.
"Is that why you wear gloves?"
"It is." Special, false taloned gloves to protect the wearer's real claws. They mimicked the regular Romulan military ones. A gift from M'Benga after an away mission saw his old ones - longer variants of S'Harien design - destroyed."Well, that and I've worn them so much it feels strange without them."
"I understand. Like me without socks."
"Yeah, like that," T'Anahos chuckled. He made to stand, causing Lorccán to reach for him. He picked Lor up – who curled into his shirt – and they headed to the dining room.
"There they are!" Donovan Rowan McCoy, a burly man of 65 and 6'0" stature, beamed. Toned skin dusted with freckles from years of sun exposure. His service in Starfleet, on a handful of science scouts, did not change that. However, faint scars from rough encounters and accidents did litter a few places. Few gotten rid of since Donovan wasn't fond of using the regenerators on himself.
Last T'Ana had heard, Don recently retired at the rank of lieutenant commander.
"Uncle Donovan," He greeted with a smile. "Y'hhau."
"Come, sit down, son. Ma and pa will be out with the dinner soon." T'Ana took his seat, Lor still hanging on to him. Donovan sat beside them. "So, Starfleet's been keepin' you busy, we hear?" Across the table, Abney McCoy smiled knowingly.
T'Anahos noticed this and huffed a laugh. "I take it y'all already know about me becoming second officer?"
"Of course," Abney's grey-green eyes glittered. Proud and amused. They tucked their curled copper hair behind their ears. It was trying to grey – Abney was 60 –, but they made it a point to keep its color maintained. Sometimes blackened at the tips. "Just because I'mma simple Starbase doctor don't mean I can't know what my nephew's been up to. Or how's it go? My "faelirh-rinam"?"
Abney and Donovan had been the first of his mother's family he met. Pike had contacted them after M'Benga uncovered T'Anahos' relation to Eleanora and, by extension, the Gryphon. The McCoys weren't the only ones notified that day – learning about the lost ship and its crew being important to Starfleet.
Meeting the McCoys was the only "fun" thing to come out of that interrogation, if you asked him.
"Fair point… Your Rihan accent has improved, ravsam-ri'ranai." He praised. His own accent a mix of the southern twang and Romulan.
They inclined their head in thanks. "Rhhae hwyejuri iohia Rihan."
"Reh brochae'eri."
"Oi mnaen!" Sophia and Sally announced excitedly.
Donovan shook his head with a snort. "Y'all and your Rihan..." He then frowned. "Where's Henry and Jane? They should've been inside by now."
"Dad's still chasing Carpet and Aensai," Sophia said.
Sally nodded and added, "And aunt Jane went out to help him."
"Of course- I swear this happens every other week."
"Carpet's an excitable boy," Tessa McCoy, Henry's wife, grinned – much wider than typical thanks to her Denobulan ancestry. Violet-purple eyes shone brightly in mirth. Wavey brown hair and slight ridges framed her face. The ridges were not as defined, given Tessa was only a quarter Denobulan. "And I guess Aensai's still in the habit of riding him?"
T'Anahos snorted, "I guess so."
"Well, they'd better get them in here soon. Food'll get cold." Thomas Jackson McCoy said, he and his wife, Xenia, set some of the food down before leaving to get the rest of it.
For a man of 99 Thomas still sat tall in his hover-capable wheelchair. His hair had long since turned white, carefully maintained in a side-sweep. His left eye remained a deep dark green. The right had faded due to accident-induced blindness.
Xenia was only three years younger and smaller at 5'5". White hair braided with streaks of lavender. Observant but kind steely grey eyes peered from behind her glasses. Other than a bad left shoulder, she was in good health.
Lorccán yawned, snuggling into T'Ana's shirt more, causing the Romulan to lightly nudge him. "Hey now, we're about to eat," T'Anahos softly reminded him.
Lor hummed, reluctantly sitting up. The porch door was heard sliding open with the sounds of grumbling, snickering, and claws scratching the hardwood floor. The large mop of a dog known affectionately as "Carpet" rounded the doorframe, Aensai contently riding the Komondor's back. The fact that breed existed still baffled T'Anahos. A grouchy disheveled Henry and amused Jane trailed behind the pets.
Quirking an eyebrow at the dirt, Don asked, "Were ya wrestlin' the dog out there, Ry?"
"Overgrown mop had me chasin' him through the peach fields!" At Thomas' glare, he quickly added, "No young peach trees were damaged, Jane made sure of that."
A confirming nod made their grandfather relax and set down the last of the food. Don huffed, "Well, if everything's settled, you two go get cleaned up and come sit down."
"Gladly."
"I swear, you'd think he'd have learned by now. You don't chase Carpet, Carpet comes to you. Ain't that right, boy?"
Carpet wagged his tail and barked.
"Reminds me of a certain someone," Abendy's lips quirked. "Say…50ish years ago?"
"I wasn't that bad at chasin' animals!"
"Yes, you were," Xenia chuckled. "Especially the horses."
Don sputtered, mildly vexed, "Ma!"
While the table reveled in his embarrassment, Henry and Jane finally took their seats. The former next to Tessa and the later T'Ana.
"So, second officer of the flagship, huh?" Don asked as he grabbed some food. "Sounds like a lot of work."
"And danger…" Thomas grumbled. It was no secret that he didn't much care for Starfleet nor the thought of his family "hoppin' across space".
"On top of being the security chief…I'll have my duties, that's for certain."
"When's the Enterprise expected to leave again?"
"Nearing the end of this month, I think. They're mostly updating systems and hull plating." It was the beginning of January. If all went well, the Enterprise should be off early February. "Then it's off for another 5-year mission. Just this time under a new captain…"
"I heard about the change. Have you met the new captain yet?" Abeny asked.
"Not yet, but I know who he is: James T. Kirk. I served with his brother while under Pike." Shrugging, T'Anahos helped Lorrcán with his plate, "Sam claimed he's reliable and I'm willing to take his word for it." T'Ana raised his glass of water slightly "But I'll soon see for myself."
Abney nodded in thought, "I've heard of the Kirks before. Never met any of them personally, though. I'm sure things will be fine."
"Elements guide me if they aren't."
"Could always stay here instead. Retire early like Don." Thomas muttered, causing Xenia to lightly smack him.
"Thomas…" She warned.
"I'll be fine, granddad. I know my way around danger. And I've served under a few less than desirable commanders in my time in space…"
"That's what they all say…" He said lowly. "Then something they weren't prepared for happens. Is it too much to ask to not lose any more family?"
A tense silent fell on the room, beyond the scrapping of silverware. Starfleet service was not the norm in the McCoy family. But this didn't stop some of them from joining. Thomas' own brother had served his time in Starfleet before dying as a lieutenant during a fight with a Klingon bird-of-prey. Then there was Eleanora, thought dead only to be discovered to have been captured by Romulans and wed to the commander who helped capture the Gryphon. Skylla, Donovan's wife, too, had been in Starfleet before losing her life on an away mission gone awry. To name a few…
Abney and Donovan had their fair share of close calls. And the Romulan military wasn't any safer than Starfleet, especially not the Tal'Shiar branch.
It didn't much help that the twins and Thomas' grand-niecphews had expressed interest in joining Starfleet.
One could argue Thomas felt especially protective of T'Anahos, being the only connection to Eleanora he had left.
Now, it's not that the idea of settling for a calmer life on the farm didn't appeal to T'Ana. He had considered it the first time he visited the McCoys. Fresh, natural, air and sunlight, plenty of work for him to do, and little in the way of expectations beyond "pull-your-weight". But it wasn't his life. Not now.
"I can't just leave."
"You're not being forced to stay, are you?"
"No. Not exactly…" Though they would be quite resistant to me leaving… T'Anahos mused. Starfleet still didn't much trust him or Oallae. Some less than others. Big surprise. And quite a few believed they held information that they weren't sharing. Which…wasn't completely false. T'Ana still felt the need to withhold some information. He had deliberately sabotaged his Tal'Shiar-class shuttle to keep its cloak out of Federation hands after they began demanding he let them study it. Well, the cloak and the general Romulan tech. Not like they appreciated what I have told them… He thought bitterly. "Look, I have my reasons for staying. Starfleet's opinion ain't one of them."
"What could be worth it up there that can't be found down here?"
"Tom…"
"What is it that makes all that risk worth it?"
"Well, it is space. Get a nice sense of adventure up there," Henry joked before clearing his throat at the frown Thomas gave him.
"You can get a nice sense of adventure down here…"
"Thomas, let it rest, dear. It's their risks to face, we just have to live with that. Besides, Abney will be retiring soon."
"Will be by the end of this year." They confirmed.
"There is that at least…"
"And, who knows, Mandukarus may have found someone one that ship of his!" Green dusted T'Anahos' cheeks as Xenia gave him an inquiring smile, drawing the attention of everyone else.
He blushed deeper and Jane snickered, "You have, haven't you?"
"Maybe…" He coughed, "But it's nothing noteworthy – I've got more exciting tales than that and I'm curious on how you all have been?"
"Oh, we'd like to hear about space!" Sophia piped up. Gasping, she added, "And we should tell you about the stick fortress!"
"Yeah!" Sally agreed followed by Lorrcán's eager nod.
"Now, now, youngins," Xenia gestured at them to settle down. "There'll be plenty of time for that." She gave T'Ana a pointed look. "You're not gettin' outta this that easily, mister. You're gonna tell us about the lucky man." Holding up a finger she added, "And don't try to derail this arguing about the existence of luck. Now, spill."
Breathing deeply, T'Anahos entertained the thought of sinking through the floor and hiding away in the void of the universe. It was shameful really. He was a Romulan. A proud Romulan doesn't hide away from the inquires of love! From a simple crush! Even if it wasn't a simple crush at all… Besides, he was never this shy when T'Auethn or Keras or even his father picked up on it. Granted, he wasn't one for eagerly sharing then, less so now…
Well, there was no point in running. Letting out the breath, he finally caved. "Oh, alright. Yeah, there's someone I've got eyes for. A Vulcan, actually."
"A Vulcan?" Abney's eyebrows raised to their hairline. "But isn't-" Eyes widening further in realization, "You don't mean Spock? How have I not heard this yet?"
"Who's Spock?"
"One of my crewmates. He's like me, just half-Vulcan. The first officer and chief science officer of the Enterprise." T'Anahos filled in for his grandfather.
"Sounds like a good match if you ask me." Jane grinned.
"Now, hold on…" Donovan raised a hand in confusion, "I thought Vulcans couldn't feel? And didn't you once say somethin' about some animosity between Romulans and Vulcans?"
"The animosity part is true, and, trust me, we did not get along well at first…" Even now there were rough spots. Pike would commonly describe their relationship as either "a house on fire" or "oil in water, with the oil probably also on fire". "And that's a bit of a myth. They still feel, they just keep it repressed. Usually..." He snorted. Some Vulcans were lousy at it. And Spock wasn't exactly the prime example of Vulcan emotional control though he had gotten better at it.
"Well, that's somethin' at least. Have you told him? Surely those intense feelings of yours should've tipped him off."
Elements help me.
"And I don't see how any man could resist your charm. Such fierce loyalty and protectiveness… While also gentle. Oh, any man would be lucky to have you!"
Water and Air, give me the grace to steadily navigate this conversation. "Thank you kindly, grandmother…" Inclining his head, he hoped there wasn't too deep a green painting his face. "But unfortunately, no. I have not told him. I'm not sure if he sees me that way. And, to be honest, the situation's a little more complicated than that…"
"How so?"
"Vulcans like to arrange marriages when their offspring turn 11. Spock's already betrothed to another Vulcan," T'Anahos shrugged as if it were no big deal. "Not that they really like each other, but they wish to please their families. Spock is especially keen on being accepted in Vulcan society."
Donovan made a face, "That sounds a bit scuffed. What, are they just expected to grow on each other?"
"That's the logic."
"Some logic…"
"Hmm."
"Well, now I'm curious…what about Romulans?" Tessa asked, a touch concerned, "Where you "betrothed" to anyone?"
"He's never said anything about that if he was…" Abney mused.
"I've not said a lot of things about me or Romulus," T'Anahos pointed out. "But, no. There are still some clans that practice it but it is slowly falling out of favor among the major ones. The Duveks stopped doing them ages ago, so Fveikey and I never had to worry about that. We chose who we liked. Well, so long as isn't someone our house-clan as animosity with…" He suppressed a snort, remembering how Fveikey tried secretly dating one of the boys of an "enemy" house. Maek tr'Khellith, if memory served. That was… Toran finding out wasn't pretty.
Xenia hummed, "Well, that's nice, I guess…but it's unfortunate to hear about Spock. It sounds like you two may have worked well together, emotional suppression aside."
"Yeah, well, such is life."
"Can we tell Mandukarus about the stick fortress now?" Sophia cut in, she and Sally looked bored while Lor had been content to tune everyone out and eat ham.
T'Ana leaned forward with a raised eyebrow, "Please, go right ahead. My curiosity grows."
"It was amazing!" She started, waving her fork around in emphasis. "It took weeks to build."
"Mom and dad helped a lot," Sally added.
"Yeah! They did!" Soph grinned at Tess and Henry. "Our royal builders!"
"Royal builders? That's all we were?" Henry scoffed in faux-offense. "Why, I did magic tricks for Lord Lorrcán over there. Wasn't even paid!"
"We gave you cookies!" The twins protested the same time Lor shot back "Lousy magic."
"Excuse you!" Henry glared half-heartedly at his son, who playfully smiled.
"Lord Lorrcán, huh?" T'Anahos smiled while taking a bite of chicken. Lor nodded happily. "Where the cookies good at least?"
Tessa hummed, "They were. The kids made them themselves. Lor's gaining a knack for backing."
"It's fun."
Sophia, annoyed at the conversation going off track, cut back in. "And Sally and I were Lord Lorrcán's valiant knights!"
"We even had swords!"
"Lousy knights. Carpet defeated you."
"HEY!"
Carpet barked and laughter filled the room. The previous tension dissipating, replaced with a mostly jovial air for the rest of dinner. Stories of the happenings on the farm, Tessa's tattoo parlor, the space station Abney served on, and the adventures of the Enterprise T'Anahos got dragged into. He was somewhat careful with those tales, not all to be shared and to not worry Thomas any more than his was. Thomas, for his part, was mostly quiet for the rest of dinner, save for some grumbling remarks…
It was a good time. It was home.
As much as T'Anahos missed Romulus, he wouldn't trade these moments with McCoys for anything…
Perhaps, one day, the Outmarches wouldn't be between them.
Perhaps they could have peace.
One day…
T'Anahos stared up at the stars, tapping the PADD that previously held a letter to Oallae and Havraha. It was brief. A mere assurance that everything was well and a request for contact should they have the time. And, in Oallae's case, be near a communications buoy.
There was little doubt Havraha would respond first. Always happy to chat and close-by serving in one of Earth's many bars. T'Ana wasn't sure which as Havraha loved to move around a lot, desiring to explore all he could of Earth. He wasn't much bothered by Starfleet trying to keep tabs on him, albeit to a lesser extent than T'Anahos and Oallae. To him, they had a good reason and "at least they weren't the Tal'Shiar". Fair enough, T'Ana supposed. It didn't seem like Section 31 had taken to bothering Hav. Nor did Oallae mention them.
Oh, yes, Section 31… Being ex-Tal'Shiar, one can imagine how they saw T'Anahos. A potential threat but valuable asset. And one can imagine how T'Anahos hated their existence. He didn't need another flavor of Tal'Shiar to deal with. Sure, S31 wasn't exactly the same at the Tal. But they were close enough and T'Anahos could argue them being worse in some ways.
More secretive to the point that the public and even some Starfleet high-ups knew not of their existence.
While the ones that did helped cover them.
Regardless of whether Starfleet officials knew didn't matter. Section 31 was essentially rouge.
Even the Tal'Shiar was known and kept under tabs…even if they sometimes undermined authority. The Praetor's orders were still heeded. They served the Preator and the Empire at the end of the day.
But, at the same time, S31 did not flex its powers. At least not openly. There wasn't the same air of paranoia for the regular Federation citizen or Starfleet officer. Most need not worry about being whisked away into the night for criticisms. Those that were silent in those criticisms or uncertainties had no psychics prodding their minds.
So, in other ways, T'Anahos could say they were better. Regardless, he avoided them as best he could.
Leaning back on the porch steps, he allowed the cold air and gently rustling leaves to ease him. It did little good to worry now. There was a time for that.
Enjoying the night, Rateg came to mind. Georgia was not dissimilar from the Romulan city. Rateg could get a little cooler, being closer to the north, but the temperatures were mostly the same. The greenery, too, was similar. Rateg took great care of the nature surrounding and within the city. A lightly wooded zone rested behind the Duvek house, leading to a naturally occurring river.
T'Anahos, Fveikey, Gaelen – Keras' nephew –, and Oallae would often go down to that river. Enjoy time to be themselves away from prying eyes and listening walls.
Up until graduation and new responsibilities saw them split up. Mostly.
The PADD came to life with an incoming transmission. T'Anahos nearly dropped the thing.
Havraha's familiar signal lit up the screen. Composing himself with a relieved sigh, he answered the call.
The friendly visage filled the screen. The strangely but ever cheerful Romulan beaming back at T'Anahos with a grin that seemed to light up the darkest of rooms. Radiant gold-toned skin with warmly shining amber eyes. He had no ridges, unlike his two friends. One could easily confuse him for a Vulcan if not for the open emotional displays.
"Aehv! Jolan'tru! You received that letter quickly…" T'Ana paused, taking in Havraha's curled chestnut hair that poofed out at the sides. "Trying out a new look, are we?"
"Jolan'tru, Mandukarus!" Giggling with a nod, he flicked his hair, "Ah, you noticed! I always wondered what I would look with longer hair. We aren't under haircut regulation anymore, after all."
"Well, it suits you."
"My thanks." Hav peered at T'Ana, "Still rocking that side-sweep, I see."
With a hum, gloved figures brushed along the sweep. "Decided it was fitting. Far more than the regulated cut, I'll admit."
"No disagreements here. I hear the Enterprise is docked. How goes things? Is Captain Pike well? Uhura? Sam?"
"All is well, except for the usual…"
"Starfleet woes?"
"Got that right. The Enterprise is undergoing refits and repairs. Pike is receiving a promotion to fleet captain and Sam's brother, James T. Kirk, will be handed command."
"Pike is most deserving of that promotion! Hmm, I have heard Sam's tales… I believe that is enough to be optimistic, dhat? Perhaps, with some concerns. But, from your and Ssaedhe's stories of service, when is there not?"
"Yeah, I suppose," T'Anahos huffed, uncertainty still on his face. Uncertainty…how he hated being uncertain… "I'll still be serving as Chief of Security – and as second officer this time."
Havraha clapped his hands, delighted. "Oh, that is wonderful to hear! Ah, how I wish you and Ssaedhe were here in person! To celebrate the occasion throughout the night. Much like when you and her became trinai! Do you still remember that night?"
T'Anahos snorted "Hard to forget... You somehow convinced Ssaedhe to play your lute. Or try to, anyway. The lute was not her passion."
Laughing, Hav shook his head at the memory. "Oh, yes, I remember that well. But she did give it her all. Might have gotten her to practice more if not for Underground concerns."
"I'm sure. Perhaps I can find the time to visit your area. Won't be leavin' again until around the end of the month."
"I would be most pleased if you did. I have some new songs and drink mixes you may enjoy."
"I'm sure you do."
"So, tell me. How is everyone else? Will they be staying?"
"Uhura will be, I think… So will Spock, thankfully – don't give me that look!" T'Ana snapped at the raised eyebrow. Havraha chuckled and winked, taking a sip of some drink. Huffing, T'Anahos continued, "Sam will be leaving now that his brother is taking over. As will some others."
"All around much to get used to! But I am sure you will do fine. You've overcome much already."
"Your continued optimism is always a welcomed sight." He smiled faintly. Havraha was always an odd Romulan. Cheerful and optimistic – though not unrealistically so – against the paranoia and strict caste system. Even in becoming clanless, Hav remained positive.
T'Anahos didn't know what house-clan Havraha had been born to. Assumably disowned before they became friends. Or he simply hid it well, along with his disownership, given he was able to keep a job. In a society built on kinship lines, a clanless Romulan did not exist legally and was normally barred from work.
After defecting, Havraha soon dropped his locative name. Becoming simply "Havraha" or "Aevh" to those close to him. Or whatever his true name was to whomever he should give his heart to. If he was even interested in finding a mate. T'Anahos wasn't quite sure on that, either.
Nor was he with Oallae, really. But it wasn't his concern.
T'Anahos' own love life was a disaster as it were.
While technically no longer a part of their clans, he and Oallae had kept their clan names. There was no one telling them otherwise. However, should he drop his, the McCoy name was always available to him.
"I speak the truth. You survived much."
"Yeah, I know. Wouldn't be where I am now if I hadn't kept fighting… And I will continue fighting."
"Of that I have no doubt. But enough dwelling on our uncertainties. I know how those plague you. I am eager to learn of what I have missed – what stories you must have since we last spoke!"
"Trust me, I've got plenty. You're gonna love the nebula manta rays…" Eyes widening in wonder, Havraha leaned in closer as T'Anahos launched into the tale. The bartender's intrigue not wavering once while listening to his friend's stories. In turn, he told T'Anahos of favored and strange moments working at different bars and what he had learned of Terran culture.
It was well into the night before they bade farewell. T'Anahos once again promising to try to visit.
Shivering at the cold that was now becoming too much for him, T'Ana stepped back inside. His PADD signaled some new reports to look over and he intended to do so that night.
End of chapter translations
"Y'hhau" - Romulan. Hello/goodbye for family.
"hru'di'ranov/m" – Grandfather/'s
"Faelirh-rinam" - One variant of nephew. Literally "son-sister" or "sister's son".
"Ravsam-ri'ranai" - Neutral variant of aunt/uncle. Literally "sibling-materal" or, I'm assuming, "mother's sibling".
"Rhhae hwyejuri iohia Rihan" - I (am) continuing (to) practice Rihan
"Mnean oi/oi mnean" - We/Us too. Not quite sure on structure. I'm still trying to figure out Romulan grammar.
"Arhem/reh brochae'eri" - I noticed.
"Jolan'tru" – More popular and common form of hello/goodbye.
Trinam/-ai – Lieutenant/s
"Dhat" – No.