Reunion

Posted on Sun Jul 26th, 2020 @ 12:07pm by Ieliene t'Leiya & Devora t'Leiya & Raikael t'Leiya & Tal t'Leiya & Aliereth t'Leiya & Lieutenant Gunnar Arnason

3,802 words; about a 19 minute read

Mission: Equivalent Exchange
Location: Spaceport

Gunnar pulled up to the space port in the van he'd checked out of the motor pool. Technically it was supposed to be for Starfleet use, but then, technically, he was Starfleet and he was using it. Besides, being Acting CMO should occasionally have some perks.

Getting out, he headed into the terminal and looked around. It didn't take long to spot a group of familiar Romulans - or at least the adults were quite familiar. The children had grown a lot since he'd seen them last. "Jolun tru!" he called, waving in case they somehow hadn't spotted a 6'4" blonde who, if he didn't stand out for height would've stuck out as the only human dressed for summer rather than a still cool early spring.

"Jolan tru." The adult male in the group, Tal, who had been separating what appeared to be a minor squabble between two of the children, replied. He was, as was the entire group, wearing a warm looking coat. "...Somehow, although I saw the temperature ranges you sent us, I did not imagine it would still be quite so cold."

Gunnar suppressed a chuckle. He'd taken a personal day for this, so he was wearing shorts and a light t-shirt. But then vulcanoids were built for warmer climates and his cold tolerance was beyond that of most humans. "I did warn you. But I had the temperature in your new quarters preset to your preference, so you'll be warm soon." And so would he, which was the other reason for the summer clothes.

"Pity we couldn't simply have had the house fully built before we arrived and moved straight into that; but I wanted a chance to wire some features in before they close up the walls." Aliereth, the only adult female currently present, said. Unspoken of course was the flipside of this: That she also wanted a chance to examine such spaces to, ever cautious (some humans might say "paranoid"), ensure no one else had put anything errant in, either.

"Perfectly understandable," Gunnar replied nonchalantly. He'd become accustomed to the family security measures during the last time they'd lived in the same place, and even come to appreciate them. "I have you in guest quarters near the Starfleet residence building, so the security there is somewhat better than the other temporary accommodations on the colony." Or even any of the permanent residences, he thought. "But I can get an extra portable forceshield generator from storage if you'd like."

"No...The balance of power is rather improved against anyone from earlier years." The expansion of the household in both numbers overall and numbers of people old enough (by Romulan standards) to be armed was quite different from previous, indeed. "And the parties of most concern, for the most part, now have as humans say 'bigger fish to fry'."

Gunnar shook his head; he hated to think of the children having to fight, but knew better than to voice that as the girls would be gravely offended. In fact, he'd resisted an impulse to go over and pick any of them up because it would deeply offend their dignity (and possibly result in winding up flat on his back, which would be both painful and embarrassing). "Though I doubt anyone will come looking out here, you do have more back up." He smiled, looking at the children he had once helped with, though 'children' wasn't the right term anymore. Both Ieliene and Devora were verging on young lady, and even Raikael was technically at the age vulcanoids regarded as the transition to adulthood. "I can hardly believe how you girls have grown."

"I'll be taller than T'Ango soon!" Raikael grinned, jumping down with both flair and seemingly unerring surety from her perch atop a stack of large packing crates.

Gunnar laughed, smiling broadly at the youngest of the 'Romulettes' as T'Ango had called them. "Indeed you will be," he said, coming over and holding a hand at the top of her head, glided it across to midway up his chest. He looked down and tipped his head side to side. "In fact, you're already pretty close. She's going to be so surprised when she sees you."

"I still don't have claws, though." Raikael frowned slightly in annoyance, as if still envious years later of a species that had built-in weaponry; then slid a hand across a fastener to the silky jacket she wore, pulling one overlaid piece to the side to reveal not only the blade expected of a Romulan over a certain age; but also a small collection of elegant throwing knives, each with engraving and a small jewel at the hilt. "So I had to get these, instead."

Gunnar pressed his lips against reaction, reminding himself it was a purely human one, and instead smiled thinking of how Divash would react to this - she would be so proud. "We'll have to send Divash a picture, and maybe a vid of you throwing them. But not here," he added hastily.

"I'd been trying to work them into one of my gymnastic routines on Earth; but my coach wasn't sure it would be allowed in competitions." This time, the expression on Raikael's face could have been that of any ten year old - almost a pout of sorts. "My aunt says it's because the Federation has lots of laws about stuff they think could be dangerous." Dark eyes rolled in typical tween fashion.

"Knives are generally considered dangerous," Gunnar replied almost deadpan. Then winked. "I doubt you'd want them if they weren't. But there's have enough history of tempers getting heated in competition that we do tend to limit anything that can easily cause serious damage. After all, not every species has the same discipline by the same age level." He left it at that, allowing her to assume he meant Andorians or Tellurites, or even humans - which he also did - rather than hot tempered little vulcanoids.

"Unfortunately yours is weird." Ieliene said, looking for all the world as if someone had created the stereotypical human teen girl outfit and makeup...and then overlaid a pair of Romulan ears and eyebrows. Elegant winged eyeliner was carefully positioned to track with the trajectory of the upswept brows; carefully polished nails on each hand...but cut short to allow for better performance in sports and martial arts activities. "A few of the boys in my school on Earth tried to ask me to date them, and two of them wanted to kiss me." The disgruntled expression on her face considering this, perhaps more likely at 10 than 14 for a human, was another example of slight differences in how different species matured - the tone in Ieliene's voice not so much seeming disgusted by the idea of such interactions in general; but more absolutely uninterested in them yet herself, and frustrated that anyone her age seemed to be or attempted to engage her in them; like a child who was suddenly told they were expected to work and pay rent and taxes.

Honestly, thinking back, 14 was about the age of his first kiss, but he hadn't been the one to initiate it; not that he had at all objected... Gunnar shook his head. "There are probably a few girls in your school who would agree with you on the general undesirability of the boys your age, but you are starting to look like a young woman at what your old babysitter would consider an alarming rate."

Ieliene grinned at this herself, if perhaps slightly less widely than her younger sister did; and her next words belied her continued and blossoming interest in science. "We grow faster when we're young." She shrugged, human style with her shoulders; and spoke her next words with fascination. "I assume we evolved that way because lots of stuff on Vulcan wanted to kill or eat our ancient ancestors."

"That and the need to kill and eat some of those things too." Gunnar agreed. "The cooperation needed for hunting and protection, means young can't stay dependent too long. Though you should talk to Kainans about fast growth - compared to either of our species, they practically mature overnight. "Switching his attention to the last sister, he rubbed his eyes a moment. "And speaking of growing up overnight, Devora, is that really you?"

"No; I hacked into the central archives and stole the identity." A more restrained, sly smile than either of her sisters; observant eyes tracking the whole scene around them; and the possibility that in time, her skills might actually be of a level to allow for what she joked of. "You grew your beard out a bit."

"Devora would never be careless enough to let her identity be hacked," he replied with solemn smile, then lifted a hand to his beard. "I'd forgotten what length I had last time you saw me. It's actually a lot shorter than several months ago when I was on Dosad, but being in a hospital again, it wasn't convenient to keep the lion's mane look T'Ango liked."

The other two children - Caithlin's 9 year old twins, Arenn and Telek - stood nearby; while they had met Gunnar several times over the years, they didn't share quite as long a history as the three sisters, and so stood back slightly, a bit more cautious, or perhaps simply a bit more respectful towards an adult. Practically in unison, they dipped their heads slightly to him in greeting.

Noting the gesture, Gunnar nodded in turn, then waved them over with a friendly smile. "Come here, you two. You've grown considerably as well. Before long you'll be helping your uncle run the school." He looked over to Tal. "Though I imagine you had some extra practice for your new position on the way over."

"For most of the last eight years or so..." The weary humor in Tal's voice trailed off as he looked over at the stacks of shipping crates. "Speaking of which. The crates marked with the green labels are for the school. The blue ones go to the house."

"And it definitely won't all fit in the truck." Chimed in Raikael, still even now more willing to butt into conversation and break the social conventions her parents might prefer, versus her sisters.

Taking a look at the stack, which until now he had assumed was part of the delivery of equipment to either the Bray Foundation or the colony itself, Gunnar's brows rose. He mentally tallied the portion of green labeled crates. "I guess Starfleet departments aren't the only ones that will be getting some nice upgrades," he remarked. "But yes, even minus those, there's still more than I can fit in the van outside."

"Take those ones." With a hint of the imperial and mercurial bearing she had been trained in and had grown up expecting to wield, Aliereth indicated several of the somewhat smaller crates, while Tal gave a pointed glance to the children, spurring them into gathering the bags they'd traveled with.

"I'll get a cart and make arrangements for the rest" Gunnar said, somewhat amused at the familiar tone, and handed a key to Ali. "The van is out front; the one that says Medical." And with that headed for a terminal official he recognized.

---------

A short time later, Gunnar came through the terminal doors pulling an anti-grav cart loaded with the smaller crates. It was good thing the van could double as patient transport so there was a lot of room in back. "I spoke to the terminal supervisor and the rest will be moved to a warehouse locker."

"Good. Once they have it there I'll go by later to secure it." Tal said as he and Aliereth were hefting the smaller crates and bags they were taking into the back while the youngsters scrambled into the van. Once everyone was in the vehicle, Aliereth finally spoke again. "There will be one further delivery within the next few weeks we will have to return for at some point; it had to be shipped separately from Earth due to...lack of suitability for cargo holds."

"Oh?" Gunnar lifted his brows in query as he slid into the driver's seat. "The colony is due to get a weapons platform upgrade. No need to important your own," he said with a mildly teasing smile.

"She means my horses!" Came Raikael's younger voice from the back.

"Horses?" The word even as surprised question carried almost as much child-like glee as Raikael's announcement, and though Gunnar immediately knew the other adults might look askance at that sort of open emotion, he couldn't help it. He also suspected they had been waiting for it - the girls at least knew he'd grown up around horses and loved them, so it would be surprising if Tal and Ali weren't equally aware of that. He grinned. "What breed?"

"I purchased them from your grandparents." Aliereth's dry tone had a teasing hint of its' own, though harder to parse than it might have been in her husband, sister, or children--she had never, even a half century later, adapted very well to life among other cultures and species.

"My grandparents...Really? You're importing Icelandic horses?" The question was both surprised and hopeful. Aliereth's humor wasn't always easy to parse, and surely someone would have mentioned... but then he'd been avoiding lengthy comms home that tended to wind around to questions about settling down. For a moment he wondered if the idea to import horses had originated with Ali or his grandmother, who could be Romulan-level devious when it came to prodding him in the direction she thought best.

"Despite the...quite regrettable...climate; I considered the likely trustworthiness of the source and environment as offsetting that, when selecting a location and riding instructor for my daughter." A simple and yet twisting statement, borne of the simple truth that for one accustomed to life in the highest echelons of Romulan society, you did not simply approach the local purveyor of education in a skill, for your offspring; if you lacked the appropriate staff already among your retainers, you sought out first and foremost a trustworthy source; generally by word of mouth from or connection to other members of your house or its allies. "As for the purchase; apparently it is recommended often to purchase the breed you were learning on, as temperament among horse breeds can vary." This last part of the statement had a touch of "I-quote" to it, and perhaps a dubious edge; as if Aliereth was not entirely certain this was the truth.

Gunnar nearly laughed, realizing the role in which the first part of that had cast him - which was not entirely off, and certainly one he had played in various if not-quite-traditional ways. He generally found it somewhat amusing, but given his knowledge of Romulan culture he also felt honored to be accepted as trustworthy, especially to the extent that that extended to his family. The last statement though, brought a smile - a wish that he could have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. "Breeds do tend to have characteristic temperaments," he affirmed. "Even more than that, Icelandic horses are unique in having extra gaits, so if you've begun learning on them, it may be awkward to switch to a breed with only three," he added with an uncharacteristic touch of pride.

"Ah. I have left all of the bureaucratic niceties to my sister as to our relocation and residence here...I assume there is nothing left to deal with as to such?" Aliereth's statement here, on the other hand, one could easily imagine having come from a human, as well: If one had a lawyer in the family, it made no sense not to let them handle the paperwork, compliance, permits, and regulations of a process.

"See for yourself," Gunnar replied, pulling through a gate, past a multilevel complex and then up in front of a unit resembling a doubled townhome. "This is the guest housing I mentioned. This one is what we call a twin - each main door leads to separate unit, but you share a wall and can unlock doors on the upper level to connect them if you want."

Tal glanced at the structure, then at his wife, then finally at Gunnar. "We'll have to secure those windows somehow, especially the ground level ones..." But he otherwise gave an approving nod to the property as the doors in back of the van opened, spilling a cacophany of tween-age Romulans onto the front lawn.

Gunnar swallowed a chuckle - he'd somewhat expected that reaction. "The windows are transparent ceramic and thick for added insulation, but no one will object if you add force screens. A couple of the security guys here did," he noted nodding up toward the apartment complex. "My quarters are there too - third floor, two in from the end - in case you ever do feel uneasy about something and want to send the kids elsewhere while you clear your quarters."

Another nod, and then a sudden dart sideways from Tal - as he lunged to stabilize a packing crate Arenn was attempting to remove from the back of the van, which, while smaller than the ones they'd left behind for storage and delivery, was still rather too heavy for a 9 year old, even a Romulan one. He took the crate from her, then, with an annoyed look, banished her and her brother to assist Raikael and Devora with the luggage and smaller boxes, leaving only himself, Gunnar, Aliereth and Ieliene with the larger crates, and he sighed. "Unfortunately the newer generation appears to have little more sense in many ways than I did at the same age."

"Did you expect anything else?" Gunnar asked as he lifted one of the crates out. "If anything, having been regularly stronger than most of the kids in their classes, they probably have a more inflated sense of their capabilities in that regard."

"Kalahaiea certainly did when she was young." Tal grimaced. "Full of arrogance that she could win near any fight she entered, unwilling to listen to my caution that weaker yet more skillful opponent can best one when the fight involves trained combatants, not schoolyard tiffs. I have some small hope that this set will learn that lesson earlier than she did, at least; if nothing else as they have exposure to sparring with each other..."

"Remind me not to babysit on sparring nights..." Gunnar remarked jokingly. "How is Kali anyway? I haven't heard from anyone in awhile."

"She is on Earth, at your fleet headquarters. Where I gather she is involved in leading a team who tracks developments in the various splinter states to rise from the demise of the Empire. She is quite tight lipped about the issue beyond that." This last, far from the annoyance a human parent might have imbued it with, had a touch of pride; that his offspring should so tightly guard the secrets entrusted to her. "We had hoped that the influx of more of our kind to some Federation worlds in some cases would lead to a good match for her, perhaps...But unfortunately, security concerns aside, there seems to be too much...difference...between her and the new arrivals, for it to work out any better than her attempts at matching with humans have."

Gunnar nodded. That would explain why he hadn't heard from her, or about her, lately. He refrained from any comment on the human she had wanted to marry or why that hadn't worked out. He was hardly in any position to say anything about finding a good match, and did not want to know if his relatives had expressed any similar sentiments to his Romulans friends. "Maybe once the refugees have a chance to settle in and assimilate more maybe she'll find more in common with someone. She is young yet, so there's plenty of time."

"Sometimes I am not certain she is fully aware of that fact, herself." Tal paused for a moment. "She has spent her whole life trying to live her life at a human pace; by necessity. Was promoted through the ranks of your fleet at a human pace. She sees her friends and peers and even those decades younger than her finding their mates, and I suspect feels she is falling behind them." He shook his head, one human habit he had picked up after almost fifty years in Federation space, and was quiet again for a breath or two. "When the nova happened, I hoped there would be an opportunity perhaps for us to return to the Empire. And when the Empire splintered, I hoped there would be a place for us to return to our people. But it soon became clear we would not be welcome in most of the sects, for one reason or another...And that regardless of our own desires, our children would be as alien among their own kind as they have been among yours. I hope here, away from the core worlds, there will be a place for them that will be kinder to those with one foot in each world than either of our societies generally are elsewhere."

There was a lot of truth to that. As the first child of ex-pats Kali really was caught between worlds with no roadmap but whatever she constructed as she sent along. Given how much that included assimilating into Federation society, he was almost glad the rest of the family wouldn't be going back, because that would have been hardest on her. If nothing else, having agemates facing the same things would help the others adjust better, and while the colony had good and bad there were enough people who though of themselves as misfits for various reasons for them to maybe find some kinship even beyond their family group. "I hope so too," he said sincerely. "I can't tell you how much being allowed to have a foot in your world helped me when I needed it most."

Tal dipped his head for a moment in acknowledgement; but whatever either of them would have said next was interrupted by the sight of Ieliene, balancing a smaller packing crate in her arms, going by...balanced on a hoverboard currently zooming a foot or two off the ground.

"On second thought, perhaps they will lead to the destruction of the entire settlement..." Tal said dubiously, watching as his offspring swerved to the entrance of the house, flipping up the edge of the board to the threshold and barely maintaining her hold on the crate.

 

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