The McCoys tended to the daily chores that next morning. T'Anahos contently listened to the twins share their hopes and plans for the day while he tended to the horses. Magnificence Terran beasts, these were. He eagerly learned all he could about them after hearing of them. Creatures capable of battle, labor, racing, and being plain stunning. There was little doubt in his mind that they'd be quite popular on Romulus. The blood bay Clydesdale, Steelheart, he was currently tending to was no exception.

The gentle but proud, hard-working, giant stood patiently as T'Anahos brushed through her mane. Occasionally, there was a particularly stubborn knot, which he carefully used his gift to help soothe the ache of. Soft praises fell from the Romulan's mouth.

"There we are," He stepped back to admire Steelheart's freshly brushed mane and coat. "Wasn't so bad, was it?" She sniffed his face to which he chuckled lightly and stroked her snoot.

"Aensai, get off Nightwind's hay!" Sophia giggled behind him.

The set'leth was perched atop the hay pile not unlike a dragon guarding her gold. Nightwind, a sleek black mustang, huffed at her and flicked his tail. Aensai ignored all of them.

T'Anahos shook his head with a smile, "Aensai, koai iut'fehill. H'tah-fvienn!"

She huffed and stared at him sourly before obeying. She wacked him lightly with her whip-like tail after perching on his shoulder, earning her a snort.

Thomas peaked in, doing a quick sweep of the stables. Spotting T'Anahos, he sat straighter and let out a breath. "There you are. If you're not busy at the moment, I'd like to talk with ya. Alone preferably."

He made a small sound, then nodded, "Of course. We were just finishing up here."

"Right. I'll be on the back porch," Thomas thumbed in its direction before leaving.

T'Anahos raised his eyebrows, casting a glance at Aensai and the twins. He had a feeling he knew what this was about and exhaled, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

He thanked the Elements that Caramel's mane and tail weren't too tangled. Anytime anyone asked to speak with him alone, his nerves felt like live wires beneath his skin. Making concentration near impossible. Even if there was nothing to worry about. Or shouldn't be. Unfortunately, Romulan paranoia was a cruel thing.

Thomas sat against the porches' railings. Aged, calloused hands nursing a glass of what was likely bourbon. Whatever musings were in his mind interrupted as T'Anahos arrived, hands stiffly folded behind him.

Taking a breath, Thomas cast a glance at the bourbon, "I, uh… I wanted to apologize for gettin' all worked up like I did last night. Makin' dinner all tense. I-" He sighed, rubbing his face.

T'Anahos' shoulders relaxed, realizing this wasn't going the way he thought it would. He tentatively set a hand on his grandfather's shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze as he's seen many Terrans do before, then quickly brought it back behind him. "Space hasn't exactly been kind to our family. You've a right to feel worried."

"It ain't just that. Knowin' Eleanora's still out there, knowin' exactly where she is an' not bein' able to see her because of some goddamned intergalactic fence…" Thomas looked at him, tears threatening to spill. "You remind me so much of her. You look like Don, but you've more of Ela's personality. Her temper, passion, desire to keep others safe… I can even hear Ela in yer accent."

T'Ana swallowed, his own grief and anger welling up into a crescendo. Grief for the loss of his mother, to see his family torn apart. A shared anger at the Outmarshes, at the cold war between the governments of the two peoples he was split between for being the cause.

He remembered how sad his mother's eyes shone, as she looked out into the stars. Stars that were not hers.

"It's never just been worry, Leo…" The use of the nickname his mother gave him, a name even fewer were privy to than his close name but more than his true one, brought him out of the mounting rage. "You're the closest thing I have to her now an' I'm afraid of losing ya…" Thomas took a shaky breath as his voice strained. Huffing a weak laugh, he continued, "I know you can take care of yourself. That yer more than tough enough to handle what space throws at ya but…"

"It's still not easy."

"No, it ain't… But I know how important space is to ya. That you've got goals of yer own. An' I ain't gonna keep you from them." Thomas gently grasped T'Ana's arm. "Just try not to get yerself killed an' take care of yerself, ya hear? An' keep in touch as much as you can?"

T'Anahos smiled small and nodded. "Of course, granddad. You make sure to take care of yourself, too."

"If I don't, Xenia will make sure I do," Thomas joked, chuckling. "But, yeah, I will. I'll try not to fret too much over you an' Abeny. It ain't my place steerin' your lives."

"You care, is all. Nothing to be ashamed of."

"No, but I feel I care too much. End up hurtin' others. Risk pushin' others away doin' that…"

That was a risk, T'Anahos supposed, thinking again of Toran. His uncle was highly protective of family. With Eleanora, Fveikey and T'Anahos he was concerned with their safety and their ability to be accepted in Romulan society. T'Anahos didn't quite grasp that when he was younger. Seeming to make it a point to spite his uncle. Even after coming to understand Toran, T'Anahos still got on his nerves. Both intentionally and not.

He missed his eldest uncle…

"But you try to come to an understanding in the end."

Thomas hummed and nodded, "I try, yeah. Not always successful but I do try."

T'Ana gave him a reassuring look.

Henry was shouting, chasing one of the sheep that had gotten out of the fencing.

"Goddammit, not this again…" Thomas sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

T'Anahos snorted, then louder when he noticed Aensai riding one of the sheep, enjoying the warmth of her wool. "Should we help?"

Thomas thought about it, then sighed once again and nodded. "Might as well give him a hand…"

Not for the first time since arriving at Starfleet Academy, T'Anahos shifted uncomfortably and adjusted the collar of his dress uniform. He never liked the things. Somehow more suffocating than the Romulan uniform! Even the sleeves felt too tight and twisted easily.

It didn't help that Starfleet recently made their solid red variant a very obnoxious shade to the Romulan eye. Far too bright. He often got headaches by the end of his shifts.

At least they decided to keep the black and division color jacket variant. Did not make the dress uniform any less uncomfortable.

But, alas, these were formal ceremonies. And he did want to look his best for Pike.

Even though he was sure that if Pike had more of a say, the man would be fine with the regular uniforms.

T'Anahos growled again as he picked at his sleeves. Ignoring the whispers and stares directed at him by curious and judgmental personnel and students.

Perhaps it was a good thing he wasn't allowed to wear his sash or honor blade. Not like the green sash looked that great with the red…

"Still fighting the dress uniform, huh?" Oallae i-Kanassarum t'Ishaehein chuckled behind him with a raised eyebrow.

"Oallae! Decided to show in person?"

"Captain's apparently friendly with Pike. That and he claimed the importance of the flagship changing hands was too much to miss…and the Yorktown needed some repairs and restock anyway." She shrugged, then grimaced as she caught sigh of a passing cadet in the solid red. "How are you feeling on the red?"

"It's awful," He stated simply, finally untwisting his sleeve. "I take it you don't much like the change, neither?"

"Elements, no. I'm surprised I haven't suffered a migraine, having to look at it in engineering all shift…"

"Do I know that feelin'…" He grumbled, crossing his arms, and they walked to the Academy doors.

"I hear Sam's brother is taking command of the Enterprise?"

"Yeah. Haven't met James Kirk yet, but I'm praying to the Elements that things will turn out fine."

"Sam's not the one for exaggerating or misleading. I'd say there is little worry."

"Oh, I don't doubt Sam. It's how he is gonna get on with Spock, myself, and the rest of the crew… Doesn't matter much what your personality normally is if it don't mesh well."

Oallae hummed, nodding, "That much is true. I remember those commanders…" T'Anahos grunted and she paused, holding out an arm, "But there's more to it, isn't there? You're adaptable enough with difficult command but when that is laced with too many questions…"

"Oh, trust me, I dread the potential for prodding. Not just for me, but for Spock, too. We've both had to deal with one too many doctors and nurses…"

Oallae huffed, sneering, "Yeah, I've been there. Even now…" She glared at the ground.

T'Anahos frowned, "Yorktown's CMO causing you grief?"

"Partly, but more the head nurse. A little too curious for my tastes. Seems to make it a point to bother me with unnecessary and personal medical questions. Then there are the endless comparisons to Vulcans… I know the medical staff needs to compare things, but they normally do that behind the scenes. Or only ask questions when necessary. M'Benga and Chapel for example…"

"M'Benga and Chapel did have their questions."

"But they had reasons. We were the first Romulans Starfleet saw – or at least knew about…"

T'Anahos hummed, gesturing for caution. T'Pol's Romulan heritage was still – somehow – not widely known to Starfleet and she had requested they keep it that way. There were too many listening ears in this building…and walls were never to be trusted.

"The amount of time I've been asked about you, Hav, and Spock-"

"Spock?"

"Does it surprise you?"

No, no he supposed it didn't. Or shouldn't. There have been more than few questions about him and Spock. His thoughts on the Vulcan for one. Quite a few of them bordered on mocking. "No, I guess not."

"It is regretful that others cannot refrain from prying into our kind." Speak of the devil, as the Terrans say… Spock inclined his head, offering the ta'al in greeting. "Jolan'tru. It is pleasant to see you've both arrived."

There were days when T'Ana wondered if he should respond to the ta'al with the Romulan salute or his own ta'al. One to be cheeky, the other to be polite. Last time he responded with the former Spock gave him the Vulcan equivalent of a bitch-face.

Instead, he just grinned and returned the nod. "Spock! Jolan'tru! Was hopin' to see you today."

"It would be illogical for me not to show."

"Of course," T'Anahos fondly shook his head.

"Spock, how have you been? I haven't heard from you in a while," Oallae inquired, smiling at the exchange.

"I have been well, all events aside."

"Humans bothering you or Pike's leaving?"

"Both. While it is illogical to worry. I find myself…uncertain after serving with captain Pike for over 10 years."

T'Anahos gave a sympathetic smile. "I think a lot of us would say similar. I share your grievances. 6 years isn't as long, but it feels like longer."

Oallae hummed, "I was there only 3 and I still wasn't exactly keen of the idea of transferring." Crossing her arms, she added, "Even if it was partly my idea."

"Not entirely, though," T'Ana said. Starfleet had been the one to suggest the transfer. The first time after they had been brought to speed on Starfleet regulation and protocol at the academy. She had turned the offer down then. Havraha had just left since civilians weren't normally allowed on starships except for transport, so Oallae and T'Anahos opted to stick together for the time.

The transfer was offered a few times after, for different ships, each time she said she'd think about it.

It was during their 3rd year under Pike and after heavy consideration she decided to accept. Not only to get Starfleet to stop pestering her, but on the grounds that they should try to navigate these new lives on their own. Build on what they had, forge new connections, and find new goals.

T'Anahos did not know what Oallae wanted from her career. There were no castes to break from, only ranks and stereotypes. Many officers worked for the good of the Federation, but few other than S31 did so to similar extremes to those within the Star Empire. Others had their own goals and ambitions.

Honor and achievement were measured differently.

What Oallae had in mind was her business. Something T'Anahos could now safely say. Mostly.

The only goal he knew for certain was to help his main goal: to make living in UFP territory easier for their fellow Romulan defectors. Even Havraha was in on that one.

Most defector settlements lived in secret. Scattered and hard to gain entrance into. The trio had intended to set down roots on known ones, but once it was learned of T'Anahos' ex-Tal'Shiar status, they were rejected out of fear. Who's to say Tal'Shiar trickery wasn't involved? That none of them were spies pretending to be defectors? Even if it were just Havraha and Oallae trying to settle, leaving T'Anahos to wander, for anyone to find out who dropped them off would risk rejection. Even if they said nothing of T'Ana, how they got there would raise suspicions.

They were dropped off by another or they risked outing the settlement.

And those settlement had enough hardships to deal with.

There was no telling how many Tal'Shiar sleeper agents there might be. Which was another ground T'Ana was rejected on.

The Federation had already demanded they reveal the locations of these settlements after an accidental slip. Knowing the risks their fellow Rihannsu faced, especially at the hands of the Vulcan High Command, nothing was said.

The only ones who knew the location of some, and even the conditions many dealt, were Pike, Spock, and Uhura.

They were the only others in the know of T'Anahos' goal.

He had to help his people. He already failed on Romulus; he wouldn't let it happen again.

A few members of Pike's crew were already there. Nyota Uhura, Christine Chapel, Sam Kirk, and Erica Ortegas most notably. M'Benga had to leave earlier for the Vulcan capitol. A medical emergency involving a Vulcan succumbing to a condition and M'Benga unable to revive her. It was unfortunate. T'Anahos had hoped to speak with him later. Perhaps he still could via subspace if the good doctor wasn't busy.

Regardless, he silently wished M'Benga well.

And silently prayed the new CMO would not be too prying for him and Spock.

Shoving aside his worrying, he tuned back into Ortegas' and Sam's plans. He was going to miss them. Sam had helped a lot with easing into life in UFP territory. One the few who gave the trio a basic level of trust and respect. Ortegas, meanwhile…had taken some time to get friendly with. She didn't trust them, or any Romulan. She and La'an had seen the trio as security risks and believed it foolish to trust them. In that regard, T'Anahos did respect them. He'd have thought the same were the roles reversed...or in any situation. In his eyes, they were the smart ones.

The trio had mostly stayed out of their way during the early days. Havraha was the one to crack the ice with Ortegas first. His grand display of Rihannsu culture and hardships with song and general friendliness showing they were more than cold warriors hellbent on conquest.

T'Anahos was going to miss her snarky humor.

"A colony? Are you resigning?" Ortegas asked after Sam mentioned looking into an Earth colony.

"In a sense. I'll still be contributing to Starfleet research. Just won't be a full-time officer. Besides, get to be with my wife and kids more." He grinned then noticed his brother walking over to the group. "Jim! There you are!"

"Sam, was hoping I'd find you!" Jim smiled. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything?"

"Nah, not at all. We were discussing plans for the future. Oh, this is my brother, Captain James Kirk," Sam introduced to the group.

"Captain," Spock inclined his head politely.

"Mr. Spock. Good to see you again."

"And these are Lieutenants Nyota Uhura, Erica Ortegas, and Christine Chapel, and Lieutenant Commander T'Anahos Duvek." Jim shook hands with each of them as they were introduced, except for T'Anahos who inclined his head as Spock did.

Jim looked at him with open curiosity. "Romulans not fond of hand-to-hand contact either, Mr. Duvek?"

"It is intimate for us like our Vulcan cousins. Even without the touch telepathy."

"I see," Jim nodded, thoughtful, "Well, I have a lot to learn then! I look forward to serving with you and those of you who will be joining this mission."

T'Anahos wondered how much Sam already told him about the Rihannsu culture he, Havraha, and Oallae had shared. It was curious he didn't already know of the hand thing. T'Anahos figured that would be one of the first things mentioned once learned.

Or perhaps it was mere formality. To not claim he knew more than he did.

Or perhaps he and Sam didn't get to talk that much and, thus, Jim did not get to hear as much.

Nearby, T'Ana heard Oallae growling a low "Back off!" followed by a mocking scoff. She had left to get something to drink and to see where her shipmates were. Expectedly, she had run into less than pleasant company. If one could even call it company.

'Twas why T'Anahos opted to stay near those he trusted. But that never stopped those wanting to get a jab in.

And even those you trust can- No. This is not the Tal'Shiar. We can trust these people. No more of that.

Oallae hurriedly made toward their group. Water in hand. The one bothering her following close behind.

"What's wrong, Romulan? Can't handle a few light insults?"

"Go away."

T'Anahos bared his teeth at the bastard and stepped close to Oallae. He was always protective of her and Havraha. Or anyone he deemed a friend. But with those two, he always blamed himself for their plan going awry. There were many factors that could've gone wrong, there always were in plans to defect safely, but had he just been more careful...

Enough. "This guy bothering you?"

"Unfortunately."

"Oh, come now! We were just joking around!"

T'Anahos sneered, "Clearly."

"Joking around suggests pleasantry for all involved. Clearly, your "light insults" were not pleasant in any way for t'Ishaehein." Spock cut in, "Nor your unwanted pursuit." Under most circumstances, a report of harassment would be the best course of action. However, given the unfortunate bias, there was no guarantee that Starfleet would even do something. Much less stop these types of people. Still, that did not mean Spock would just let this slide by. He's dealt with enough of these people.

There was also the ordeal of preventing it from spiraling into a fight.

The guy scoffed and Jim noted how this was likely a common occurrence. Uhura and Ortegas looked ready to give the guy a verbal lashing.

A strong rapport with each other, willing to defend the others, intolerant of intolerance, they would make fine addition to any crew.

"Why defend a Romulan? It's not my fault they're too proud to handle a few jabs."

"Because getting accused of scheming is something to brush off," Oallae rolled her eyes then muttered, "Especially when it happens constantly…"

"Sounds to me like they have a right to be annoyed with you," Jim observed, "To constantly have your people boiled down to scheming and violence… That's not exactly fair."

"Not exactly fair? I wouldn't call being rightly suspicious of a people we've been at war with and are known for sabotage and spying "unfair"!"

"A war that is not ours, mister."

"From over 100 years ago, no less," Uhura added, "Trying to apply those stereotypes to all Romulans, it's shameful."

"It is illogical."

"Really not a good look on you, bud," Ortegas tsked, taking a sip of her drink.

The lieutenant turned his nose up with another scoff. Oallae had taken to ignoring him, merely smiling in gratitude at the group. T'Anahos, while keeping an eye on the lieutenant, was interested in how Jim handled this. Perhaps there was nothing to worry about after all. Jim had his respect.

"Lieutenant, that's quite enough." Who was assumed to be the bastard's superior officer stepped in, "Go on, stop bothering them. That's an order." She shooed him away, offering a smile to Jim. "Captain Kirk."

"Captain Xerill."

"Apologies for Lt. Wellmen, he doesn't know how to leave others be." She chortled, side-eying T'Anahos and Oallae but not acknowledging them further. Oallae pressed her mouth into a thin line and T'Ana crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow. That wasn't much of an apology. Nor did she seem genuine.

Jim returned her smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I can tell. Though, I'm not the one that should be apologized to."

At his gesture, Xerill reluctantly acknowledged T'Anahos and Oallae. "Right, of course," She gave them a strained smile. "I hope he didn't cause you too much trouble."

"Could've been worse." Oallae said stiffly, that much was true, but it didn't make any less unpleasant. "But that doesn't make being chased down any better."

"Yeah…" T'Anahos agreed, keeping his tone level, "I would do something about that."

Xerill looked ready to retort. Thankfully, the ceremony started before things could get any worse. She simply nodded to Jim and quickly left the group alone. The air around them relaxed, allowing them to breathe.

"Finally…" Oallae sighed.

"Most unpleasant."

"Got that right…"

Pike was not the only one to be promoted that day. Plenty of others were there to receive the same and others to receive rewards and honors. Very few did T'Anahos recognize. The others in the group pointed out the ones they knew. It wasn't the most exciting. Even back on Romulus these types of ceremonies became dull unless you or someone close were receiving.

Most of the excitement was carried in the pride of knowing the Empire had such accomplished and loyal officers.

As children, these ceremonies sparked more imagination. He and Gaelen, and Fveikey when she was younger, would quietly discuss who they knew. Delighting in likely exaggerated tales of battle and earned honors for the Empire. Imagining what they might see and do once time came for them to serve.

How they might bring greater glory to the Empire and its Praetor…

T'Anahos couldn't say he held the same pride for the UFP. Not simply for the prejudices faced – he had faced his share in the Star Empire as well. But the hypocrisy – which also tended to be a problem in the Empire...

He supposed, somewhere in the back of his mind, they were still an enemy. And Romulus was still his home.

Some admiral was making an end speech he couldn't be bothered to listen to. Instead, he leaned toward Oallae, "Havraha is wanting to see us again. Think you'll have time?"

"Yorktown doesn't depart for two weeks. Other than monitoring any engineering changes, I will. Seeing Hav again would be refreshing."

"How does this week sound?"

"Easily arraigned."

"Then I think that settles it."

End of chapter translations

"Jolan'Tru" - Common hello/goodbye

"Aensai, koai iut'fehill. H'tah-fvienn!" - Aensai, get down! Come over here!

Ta'al - A name for the Vulcan salute