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Posted on 22 Jan 2025 @ 9:23pm by Lieutenant Commander Temerant Bast
Edited on on 22 Sep 2025 @ 8:35am

1,532 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Shoreleave and Reassignment

Trill.

A wave of relief washed over him as he could finally see his homeworld through the viewport. Trill was a fairly large planet, about twenty percent larger than Earth, but less dense, which resulted in similar gravity. The planet had rolling white clouds, and purplish oceans, due to the high concentration of kelp in the water's upper layers. In the distance, he could see the two largest of the planet's three moons. The third was undoubtedly on the planet's far side. A space station was slowly orbiting into view, long abandoned, and waiting to be decommissioned and replaced with a newer incarnation.

Transport from Starbase 375 on the Aldhani cruiser had taken two days, at a relatively slow speed of Warp Four. The best he could find on such short notice, given the short medical leave he'd been granted to recover from the explosion on the Cygnus. The transport had been crowded, but nothing he couldn't handle. The company had been pleasant enough, and the perfume she'd left on his tunic still lingered. She'd tested the limits of his leg injury, and it had held up under the intense strain.

The transport touched down in the capital city's main spaceport. He gathered his duffel bag from storage, and patiently waited his turn to exit the transport. The spaceport was one of the capital city's main hub of activities. People came from all over Trill to gain transportation off-world, or were disembarking from one of the arriving transports. Gift shops were all over the place, and merchants selling street food peppered the area with their enticing smells, and filled the air with their calls for customers, announcing dishes that made his mouth water.

He opted to purchase a piece of grilled shikara fruit, caramelized with a dusting of sweet koralan spice mix. With the treat in hand, he walked to the nearest transporter station, where he again stood in line. He would give them the coordinates of his parents' house on one of the southern continents, but at the last minute, something held him back.

There was music in the air, drifting over from a nearby café. A gentle tune, with something of a jazzy swing to it. Not the kind of music he would have listened to, that was more to his father's taste. Except that he did remember this song, and it was one of his favorites. It had played at his wedding. At Wilem Bast's wedding, to be more accurate. And it was also a song that Lamorra Bast loved playing. It was a challenging piece, with two narratives played at different tempos. Few musicians could do it justice, and Lamorra had been one of the rare musicians of her generation to be able to play it. Temerant Bast, having only a fraction of Lamorra's musical talent, had never dared the attempt.

He looked at the transporter operator, and gave him a different set of coordinates.

- - - - - - - -

There had been some changes to the house since he’d seen it last. The house had been repainted, and the new coat of paint was shining bright. It was a welcome change from the faded house he remembered. The light fixtures had also been changed, to something more modern. The front garden was a bit more run-down, a bit more overgrown by the bushes and tall grass. But that was to be expected - gardening had never been Saphira's forté, and she never would have seen the need to hire a gardener. But the house itself looked well tended-to. He could see that someone had finally replaced the window in the guest room upstairs, the one that had been broken by a tree branch in a windstorm about eight years ago. Wilem had always promised that he'd get around to it eventually. But the ice cliffs had changed so many of those plans.

He sat at the café down the street for two hours, nursing a coffee that had long gone cold, before he finally saw her. She was just as beautiful and elegant as the last time he had seen her, that fateful morning. She held herself tall and straight, with her graying hair tied back into a braided bun at the base of her neck. She wore a long burgundy coat, perfect for the somewhat chilly weather of the season. She was walking up the street slowly, holding a bag of fresh groceries. More than enough for herself - she was shopping for several people. Today was a special occasion, he guessed, so she would be cooking from fresh produce - nothing replicated on special occasions. He felt his mouth watering at the thought of her food. But there was something about the way she walked. Slow and melancholy, as if she were still mourning the loss of Wilem Bast. But there was peace on her face, acceptance.

As she approached the door to the house, she stretched her neck and looked out toward the other end of the street. He looked in the same direction, and saw four younger people approaching - only a few years younger than he himself now was. His children. Or rather, Wilem's children, he reminded himself. There was a sudden tightness in his throat and his eyes itched as he fought the urge to stand up and shout their names, take them into his arms and hold them tight.

Kaelen, his firstborn, had matured since Bast had seen him last. His face made it seem like he was more sure of himself, and all the doubts of youth had evaporated from his eyes. Had he finally figured out his path? He'd never been tempted to join the Initiate program, but now the Initiate patch was displayed prominently on his jacket shoulder.

Darok, his second son, seemed happy. Unlike his brother, he'd always wanted to be an Initiate. If not for his grades... That had been a great source of angst when he was a teenager. He seemed to have finally made his peace with the fact that he would never be an Initiate.

Valara, his daughter, had changed the most. She'd barely been out of her teenage years when he'd seen her last - much too young to lose a parent, he thought. She had been going through a phase, questioning her place in the world, how she wanted society to perceive her. She seemed to have sorted herself out, and carried herself with assurance. He felt a surge of pride, and longed to hold her in his arms.

The children greeted their mother, and offered to take her bags. There were smiles and hugs - this was clearly a joyous occasion. Temerant frowned, and suddenly the realization hit him that today would have been Wilem's birthday. He would have been 66 years old. His eyes filled with tears as he saw his wife and children gathering together in what would have been one of his previous hosts' favorite nights of the year, a night when his entire family was gathered in one place, celebrating and enjoying themselves and each other's company. He didn't get to spend much time with his children, and birthdays were always a sacred occasion.

Valara hugged her mother, and stepped back. He watched Kaelen take the grocery bag from his mother's hands, and wrap his arm around another woman - one he didn't recognize.

But he didn't need to recognize her to instinctively know what she was - apparently, Kaelen had found a companion in life. A very beautiful woman, he noted. One who looked very kind, and very happy. The warm smile on Saphira's face as she greeted her son's partner said it all. Wilem would have approved. And the bump in front of her was unmistakable, and hit him like a ton of bricks.

He would be a grandfather.

He felt his throat tighten with emotion, as his eyes filled with tears. So much had happened here in the past few years. Life had continued.

Saphira dropped her handbag as the children walked toward the house to open the door. She bent down, retrieved the purse, and as she straightened up, her eyes wandered across the street to the café.

And then she saw him. Their eyes locked. For a moment, her expression was blank. She looked at him as though trying to remember where she knew that face from. Recognition suddenly kicked in, and her breath caught in her throat. She raised her fingers to her mouth in surprise, but didn't move. He could see tears welling up in her eyes as well.

He held her gaze for a moment, then gave a simple nod, and a smile.

She smiled back, and turned to make her way to the house. She looked at him once more as she closed the door, smiling gently as she placed one hand over her heart. And then the door closed, and she was gone.

He got up from the café and walked away, his heart filled with a warmth that he hadn't felt for a long time. Everything would be all right.

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A post by

Lt Cmdr Temerant Bast
First Officer, USS Cygnus

 

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