The Path Not Taken: Dinner With The 'Enemy' (Part 6 of 6)

Posted on 07 Mar 2024 @ 10:02pm by Ensign S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor & Lieutenant JG Montgomery Vala

2,953 words; about a 15 minute read

Mission: Episode 19 - Tomorrow's Galileo
Location: Okinawa Prefecture, Japan, Earth
Timeline: Early 2396

Previously on The Path Not Taken: Dinner With The 'Enemy'

Sera watched Montgomery select his portion and turned away to the side dishes to focus on something less…conflicting. While the rest of the dinner party enjoyed the labors of K’ratak’s ‘cooking,’ Sera occupied herself with small portions of the side dishes that had been placed upon the table.

She watched and listened as the group discussed various things, and it appeared from her observation that they all found each other’s company agreeable. Montgomery appeared at ease, like he had been aboard Galileo…Galileo…

Her time away from Vulcan had always had a feeling of impermanence. At some point she would have returned home, back to the life she had placed to the side in favor of attempting to find purpose and fulfillment on her own. She had simply never considered that it would all come to pass in this fashion.

Her thoughts turned maudlin as she continued to sip on the Kali-fal, and her normal mental controls were collapsing as her intoxication increased. Why wait until the morrow to contact her family regarding the state of things and the potential...favor, needed. Why not do it now?

Sera excused herself, less than gracefully stood, and scuffed off to one of the back rooms where their comm station lay.

And Now, the Continuation...

[ON]

The free flow of alcohol had certainly impaired Vala’s senses about his mate. While he noted her absence, he was quickly consumed in conversations with his fellow outcasts for the next while. Steaks were consumed, sides admired. Several toasts were given to K’ratak and S’Ers-a for their culinary expertise.

He was not the only one to notice, but all of them were sufficiently in their cups to not pay it too much heed.

Eventually their plates were empty and glasses remained full. Vala pulled himself up and wandered off to the back of the house in search of his E’lev.

--

Sera stared at the screen at her Komehk-il. It had been a surreal conversation made even more otherworldly with the blood wine and kali-fal coursing through her system. T’Ael seemed to know that Sera was going to contact her, and showed not one iota of surprise at Sera’s reason for said contact. Their shared conversation stretched out, but not with pleasantries. No. Terms were hashed out, requirements were outlined. Sera rationalized her choice and actions as kaiddth. Although not a desired path, Her choosing of it returned a small sense of having ownership over the direction of her life.

All of her childhood education and training was seen to by Komehk-il. That it would come to this was…logical. Sera's personal sacrifice in this would offer protection to her mate and his ‘family.’ The needs of the many?

“Rhhae ecimae haerhe.” ("This one so swears" quite a formal declaration.) Sera pledged in Rihannsu.

”Ssuaj-ha.” (acknowledged. - also Rihannsu.)

”You will be contacted regarding our plan for extraction once preparations are complete. Peace and long life, Granddaughter.” T’Ael ended with the traditional Vulcan salutation, not without a small bit of irony.

Sera blinked and exhaled forcefully from her nose in grim amusement. ”Live long and prosper, Komehk-il.”

Vala lingered at the door to the room for a few moments. He had not heard much, and what he had made little sense in the shadow of several cups of Kali-fal. It was unusual for S'Ers-a to take a call so late. Or at all. But perhaps he had not heard the alert tone over the cacophony of the central room.

"Rhiana?" He said softly, stepping forward as the call came to a close.

Sera whipped around and threw her hand out to the tatami mat to keep from falling over in surprise and inebriation. “Varin!...Ah…what are you doing here?”

"I felt your absence," he said warmly, walking over to her to lightly caress her cheek, "I did not hear a call come in… was it important?"

“Important?” Sera blinked at him. She wanted to do something that was quite out of character for her…lie. However, that was illogical, and cowardice was not something she allowed.

“I was speaking with Komehk-il. A call did not come in…I called her.” She admitted quite readily.

"Oh…" He cocked his head to the side, "It is… an odd time to initiate a call." He gazed into her eyes, "Did the alcohol make you homesick?"

Sera raised a brow as she stood. “Home sick? I do not know this word. I was contacting her regarding our continuing safety.” Sera deflected in a traditional Vulcan manner. No lies told…but about as transparent as a sandstorm. She stood and smoothed out her kimono. “My apologies…I hope my absence has not negatively impacted the evening?”

“Oh well…” He shook his head. They could discuss it later. “Not at all, e’lev, I am sure they are having a wonderful time in our absence. They may not have even noticed we are gone.” He laughed lightly, “Perhaps we should rejoin them though, you know how Rihannsu can get. They may go… exploring.”



The Morning After, Vala and Sera's House

Sera’s eyes groggily blinked open as the diffused sunlight angled directly onto her face. She inadvertently groaned and pushed herself into sitting. Looking over her shoulder to the empty side of the futon, Sera realized that Montgomery had already risen and no doubt was at work. Head pounding to the thrum of her heart, she ran her hands over her face as if to somehow wipe off the horrible feeling now inhabiting her.

Stomach roiling, she stood up and plodded out of their sleeping chamber across the house to the kitchen to obtain some water to wash the horrid taste out of her mouth. Was this what a hangover was? Quite the nasty side effect. Considering taking an analgesic, Sera padded out to the dining room that still held the remnants of their gathering. Fvillhu sat on the low table, sitting upright like a sphinx and was dutifully cleaning his paw and rubbing it up over his ear to clean the hard to reach places on his head.

He saw her and rose on all four paws and meowed loudly in feline censure. The sound was far less pleasant in this state. It would appear her morning would be filled with cleaning the house.

Sera began picking up plates and glasses and transporting the dirty dishware into the kitchen. The headache and nausea ramped up with her physical activity, and she detoured to the restroom for something to aid in her symptoms…

I will never do this again… Sera swore to herself as she swallowed the medication. Her inner musings were interrupted however as the chimes to the front door sounded.

Unusual. She wasn’t expecting any visitors and it was highly unusual for anyone to visit unannounced. She quickly rushed back to her sleeping chambers and donned a simple cotton yukata and tied it around her waist before answering.

Sera opened the door and before her stood a tall Vulcan male and human female in Starfleet uniforms…black collars. Intelligence. Fvadt.

“Yes?”

“S’Ers-a M’Lyr’Zor. Your presence is ordered by Starfleet Command. We have…questions.”

“I am no longer in Starfleet.” Sera responded numbly, hoping the analgesics she took would reach therapeutic levels soon.
“Irrelevant. We have been ordered to escort you.”

Sera tilted her head in acquiescence. “Very well. I will change and join you presently.”

“You will accompany us, now.”

They weren’t going to let her dress? She had just awoken, hungover, and no doubt looked far less put together than was acceptable. “Will I be allowed to obtain footwear?” She retorted, her tone becoming far less detached.

The human woman took that moment to chime in. “Put on the sandals next to the door and come with us now.” There were no pleasantries at all from that one.

A subtle frown was the only outward sign that demonstrated her inner turmoil. She slipped her bare feet into a pair of casual zori which were normally used to walk about the garden, and stood before them resisting the urge to cover the top of one foot with the other. She never went out with her bare feet showing…in fact, going out in a house robe, loosely braided hair in tangles and garden slippers was borderline unacceptable.

Resisting the urge to imperiously demand explanation, Sera stepped out of her home and shut the wooden door behind her and was immediately grabbed by the Vulcan male by her upper arm. She resisted wrenching her arm out of his grip by sheer will, but the elevated brow conveyed her ire to him. How. Dare. He. Touch. Her.

She was then subsequently escorted quite forcefully off the covered porch and down the walkway to the sand path that made up the road.

Once coming out of the cover of the fukugi trees, the female officer tapped her badge and in a commanding tone stated, “Three for transport.” The tinny response of “Acknowledged,” was heard and then Sera’s vision filled with the gold sparkles of dematerialization.

The trio rematerialized on a transporter pad in a transport room. The ground beneath her feet held no vibrations, so Sera knew she was still on planet and not on a starship, however where exactly she had been taken to was a mystery.

Her arm was grabbed again, and this time Sera did respond. “I am complying. Your touch is unwanted and unnecessary.” She retorted to the Vulcan male.

“Your opinion on the matter is irrelevant.” He replied dryly. He considered this female a high-born ‘brat’ with far more self-importance than was necessary…that she had aligned herself–willingly, no less–with a Romulan male was one of the most distasteful things he could conceive…well outside a Vulcan betraying their species and the Federation to the Romulan Star Empire. He reserved judgment on the latter part.

She was forcefully escorted out of the transporter room and then taken on a circuitous route meant to confuse sense of location, no doubt, and was finally deposited in a room devoid of any outside windows with a two-way mirror on one side of the room. In the center was a metal table and two chairs, one on each side of the table, and Sera was escorted to the chair and shoved slightly at it.

Half expecting to be placed in metal cuffs to impede movement, Sera stared up at the two officers expectantly, however, such restraint did not come. The two turned and exited the room, saying not another word to her.

Well…if Sera still had any concerns as to whether or not she was still trusted, they were quite readily answered. Uncertain of what else to do, she lifted the end of her braid into her lap and undid the tie and began to run her fingers through her tresses in an attempt to salvage her appearance. She wasn’t vain by any means, but it gave her something to focus on while she waited for whatever would happen next.



The Morning After, Daystrom Institute

Vala had arisen relatively early, the previous night's revelry having not hit him quite as hard as his dear ailhun. She had drunk quite a bit more blood wine than him, and he felt like some extra sleep would not go amiss for her. So he slipped out quietly, determined to seek out answers regarding S'Ers-a's restricted travel chit.

His walk to the municipal transporter station was fairly uneventful. The streets of Bise were humming with quiet activity. Fishermen had already returned with their haul, and nets and baskets were being shifted and hung by locals, their catch shifting and seething within. No one paid the Rihannsu any mind as he walked down the main street, giving the odd greeting in stilted Japanese when his eyes encountered someone he knew.

As he approached the transporters and handed over his chit, the attendant gave him a slightly odd look, "Doing overtime, sir?"

"You might call it that," Vala responded dryly, "I have business at Daystrom."

The attendant nodded and inclined his head towards the pad, handing the chit back.

Vala took his position and within moments materialised in the far larger transporter hub of the Daystrom Institute. It was unusually quiet. He tapped his combadge, "Computer, please locate Director Grake." He stood tapping his foot, awaiting a response, "Director Grake is located in Central Administration, Office 329D," the soft digital voice returned.

With a small grunt, Vala made his way out of the transport hub and through the manicured gardens of the Institute. Central Administration was on the other side of the campus to his usual department, but he had been there enough times to find his way. The gardens were perfect as usual, beautifully cared for and kept in the local Japanese style. It was almost cherry blossom season, and the trees that lined the avenue he purposefully marched down were already taking on a sheen of pink.

Central Administration was far more sleek and modern than his own department, which had been left to languish in its mid-century design. The Institute's main administration hub had been rebuilt only a few years ago, and it captured the sleek lines and contours of the Federation's current design ethos. A few concessions had been made to its academic nature, however. The traditional sweeping steps that led to a high entrance was one, and the two statues flanking the bottom steps formed another. Lions. Some kind of Earth cat. Vala had never seen one himself, but they often seemed to crouch near the doors of important places. Perhaps the powerful of the Earth of old kept them as pets? These two stood out for their age, carved maybe five or six hundred years ago. It was an almost jarring contrast to the new building they guarded.

Vala walked up the steps, barely noticing the lack of the usual hustle and bustle that accompanied this building. His mind remained slightly cloudy with Kali-fal, and the anger of his mission was beginning to creep over his senses.

A couple of officers with mustard collars discreetly walked around the lions and began carefully trading up the steps once Vala reached the door.

The atrium Vala entered was quite a spectacular sight. The room went the full height of the building, with light cascading in from a giant window above the door and a clear roof. Offices and walkways wound around each floor, accessed by arcing stairs and glass elevators. The ground floor was usually busy, but today only a few officers seemed to be present.

Vala walked up to the large reception desk and scrutinised the young betazoid behind it, "I intend to meet with Director Grake," he placed his credentials down on the counter with some force, "Please inform him I am coming." Without waiting for a response he walked to an elevator and tapped the console within.

The lift doors slid shut and the glass box shifted upwards towards the third floor. A moment of stillness. Vala closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. How had it come to this… He had truly believed the Federation had integrity in its values, but here he and S'Ers-a were imprisoned on a tiny island under the guise of him having some prestigious role at the institute. It felt like a long way from their first days of the Galileo and the Pleiades.

The elevator arrived and he walked along the exposed corridor to the appropriate office: 329D. As he strode forward things began to feel… wrong. Why was the director here and not in his own, penthouse office suite? Why was it so… empty? Had he missed a memo?

He stopped and looked around, peering over the railing down to the atrium. It was now suddenly very busy once again as was the avenue he had walked down, he observed as he turned to look out of the large glass edifice. A slight shiver ran down his spine. Something was happening. No. Something had happened. To S'Ers-a. He could not sense her presence. She… was gone. He rubbed his forehead then looked back to the offices. 329D loomed farther down the way. He glanced behind him. The elevator was gone. "Only a fool mistakes the calm sea for the absence of predators," he whispered in his native tongue. The saying felt very apt in the circumstances. He was ensnared.

Only one option remained. He stood up straight, pulled his uniform down to neaten up the creases and strode confidently to the office. It did not take many steps for him to arrive.

He took a deep breath and pushed the chime, "Lieutenant Commander Vala for Director Grake," he said in a clipped tone.

The doors slid open, "Come in Rh’vaurekorn," a smooth female voice which certainly did not belong to Grake beckoned. It was oh so familiar to him, "it's been a very long time."

To be continued...

[OFF]

--

LTCMDR Montgomery Vala
Chair of Xenogeology
Department of Xenogeology, Daystrom Institute

Dr. S’anra Krotash
Entomologist
Department of Zoology, Daystrom Institute
[PNPC Vala]

Dr. K'ratak of House Grevaq
Algae Engineer
Department of Microbiology, Daystrom Institute
[PNPC Vala]

&

S'Ers-a M'Lyr'Zor
Déshabillé

LTCMDR Imin Volskiar
Senior Botanist
Department of Botany, Daystrom Institute
[PNPC S'Ers-a]

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