No One Gets Out Alive

Posted on 24 Jan 2025 @ 1:57pm by Lieutenant JG Selon Illialhlae
Edited on 24 Jan 2025 @ 1:58pm

1,204 words; about a 6 minute read

"Selon, son of Turak, son of Suran, son of Serevan. Child of the House of Sidak and the Ansa-sen-tar." Selon straightened his back a little bit as he stated his lineage, retreating from his previously relaxed and somewhat sullen posture. Pride in one's heritage was an emotion most Vulcans could excuse, but not apathy or lethargy in front of authority, or in the face of one's filial duties. The receptionist accepted his input without a word and the Vulcan IDIC replaced her visage on the screen as she went to retrieve Selon's second forefather, the previously mentioned Serevan.

Contacting one's relatives via subspace was a ritual every Starfleet officer knew well but Selon had found precious few who had such divergent personalities and yet spoke with them regularly. Punctually in the case of Selon and his great-grandfather. Sad as it was to say, they saw more of each other and talked infinitely more than Selon did with his own siblings.

The IDIC dissolved to reveal the austere, eminently regal mien of Serevan, his hair a shock of pure white against deep olive toned Vulcan features. Where Selon's sea green eyes roiled with emotion, of curiosity, of passion, of intellect and all the vibrancies of youth, Serevan's dark purple eyes were placid, square. They were hardly dead but seemed to look both inward and outward at the same time, betraying nothing, not even focus. They were the eyes of the mechanical sublime. Of a Kolinahru. A master of the Way of Kolinahr.

"It is agreeable to see you again, my child." Everything about Serevan's words, from the intonation and the volume, to the way his face moved and his eyes blinked, were exactly the same as any of the other countless times he had delivered this greeting to Selon.

"You as well, second-forefather." The ritual provoked a smile on Selon's lips. Serevan was literally past offense but many Vulcans considered it unseemly to casually display any emotional sentiment in front of a Kolinahr Master and it was this brazenness, in addition to his familiar tone, that set Selon apart from the rest of Vulcan society.

"What has transpired since last we spoke?" He asked, ritually as well, with no sentiment beyond politeness but to which Selon liked to ascribe a certain caring concern.

"Finally arrived on the Galileo, settling in nicely. It's an order of magnitude smaller than the Oakland but I'm actually enjoying the intimacy thus far. I have a new roommate which might take some getting used to but we seem well suited. There's a few other Vulcans onboard though I haven't had the opportunity to get to know any of them. We'll see if we have anything to talk about..." Selon trailed off. As much as his opinion of his fellow Vulcans had changed over the years, it was always anxiety provoking to meet a new one and see how they would react to him being not just half-Romulan but also one of the maligned V'tosh ka'tur, rejecting Logic at both ends.

"And your duties are agreeable?" Serevan inquired further.

Selon smirked at his verbiage, he never tired of it. "Yes, quite." He said simply. "And what of yourself? How are things at the Ministry?"

"Our work is progressing at an expected pace and my staff continues to perform their duties without interruption. Based on our current speed we will have the agreement signed in five months at which point I will retire." Serevan's words rolled from his lips.

Selon blinked for a moment before he had recovered his faculties enough to inquire further. "I'm sorry?" Apparently he hadn't.

"Our work is progressing at an expected pace and my staff continues to perform their duties without interruption. Based on our current speed we will have the agreement signed in five months at which point I will retire." Serevan repeated, apparently interpreting Selon's balking as a degradation in the quality of their communication.

Serevan was not yet in his 200th year, though he was close enough to it. By Vulcan standards he might have retired long ago but kept himself fully engaged and employed in his work at the Vulcan Ministry of Trade negotiating various trade pacts and economic ties between worlds. Logic, however, dictated that Serevan continue to perform his duties as long as his constitution permitted him to perform them optimally and there was further need of his expertise at the Ministry. Apparently one, or both, of those considerations was no longer valid.

"No I meant it's surprising that you've decided to retire, what brought this on?" Selon asked, leaning forward in his chair to use his excellent visual acuity to make another pass over his second-forefather's features. Thoughts of Bendi Syndrome and other age-related conditions crept into his mind, most illogically his forefather would say considering such conditions did not run in their patrilineal line and the House of Sidak was well known for their longevity.

"With the conclusion of this agreement, I feel that my professional career has reached its logical conclusion. My deputy has reached the peak of her ability, there are no upcoming major projects that will be under my remit and I believe it would be agreeable to your second-foremother and the rest of our family if I would avail myself of this opportunity to step aside and spend more time at home with them." Serevan spouted off as if he had either prepared this response or had already said it half a dozen times already. One was as likely as the other and in truth that was marginally so considering Selon's propensity to over read, over analyze and over interpret the disposition of everyone he came in to contact with, even people who meant absolutely nothing by it like his second-forefather.

Still, it was shocking to him and after internally reminding himself that Serevan's Kolinahru nature made it impossible for him to lie or even obfuscate his reasoning, Selon took his second-forefather at his word and let that feeling wash over him. For as long as he had been alive, and even long before that, Serevan, son of Selok, had been Subminister of Interstellar Trade and Securities. That this would be changing, was quite a sobering blow to him. There was no health-related reason, politics rarely interfered with appointments at his level and despite his allusions, Selon knew his second-foremother would never actually pressure her husband to retire. Time was passing, and none of them were getting any younger.

"Well I'm... pleased you came to such a conclusion under such a favorable set of circumstances." Now it was Selon who was trying, poorly, to hide his feelings behind verbosity.

"Thank you for your felicitations." Serevan said unwaveringly, excusing his second-foreson's awkwardness.

The conversation between antecedent and descendent continued for another fifteen minutes in a ritual back and forth of standardized questions and pleasantries, all the while Selon tried to digest what Serevan had told him. He would definitely need to hear his father and forefather's opinions on the matter. And his second-foremother's of course. He would have a busy afternoon of calls to his family and for once he did hope he was the last to find out about big news.

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