Nevasa Storyline IV - Sakarra Tyrax

"Nevasa" Part V

[Pelasht, Shi‘Kahr, Vulcan]

18th Day in the month of T'ke'Tas , YS 9014

To an off-worlder she was merely a Vulcan adjusting the meters of heavily draped fabric, but to Solkar she was quite clearly fidgeting.

“Tell me again, Osa’mekh’al, why do I have to wear this? It seems blatantly illogical. They are Betazoids. They neither know nor care about...”

“It is appropriate for a diplomatic occasion, ko-kan” Solkar said kindly, pulling part of the elegant formal robe 0.65 centimeters up his grandchild’s shoulders until it was perfectly placed.

They stood outside the main gates of Pelasht, the former fortress now serving as banqueting hall and ceremonial house for the Science Academy, and waited for T’Leia and Rel Tyrax to arrive before they joined the delegations already inside. The evening winds provided a welcome respite from the heat of the day but Sakarra could already feel how they unraveled part of her perfectly braided hair. Not that her curls ever submitted to any hairdo for long in any case. She had already considered having it straightened and cut into the very practical style favored by the majority of Vulcans, but cousin T’Para had objected most strongly. Logically, so T’Para had pointed out, Sakarra would be rejecting her heritage by such a radical alteration, but the young woman suspected that T’Para simply derived an un-Vulcan amount of fun from shaping her cousin’s wild mane into dozens of different traditional hairstyles. Today she had actually gone what one can safely refer to as ‘bonkers’, creating an all new way of combining ancient Vulcan with traditional Betazoid and tossing in some gold pins for good measure.

The effect, combined with the heavy clan robes, was rather astounding but Sakarra felt that if she stepped onto a pedestal now and stood really still, sooner or later someone was going to come at her with a dust cloth.

Her sensitive ears picked up the chatter from inside - a large number of Betazoids loudly voicing their admiration for their magnificent surroundings or complaining about the climate, sometimes both in the same breath. It had been some time since she had heard such sounds and she smiled inwardly.

Of course she was the logical choice for a liaison, if only for the duration of the conference, but she was not quite sure what she was supposed to do. Officially, she had been asked to provide “diplomatic assistance” to the Vulcan delegation, whatever that was supposed to mean, and aunt Lwanissa had of course jumped at the chance to have a family member as her negotiating partner. Now she was going to be stuck with Vulcans alternating between miffed and puzzled and Betazoids who .. well, would just be their happy selves if Sakarra judged the noise correctly.

Splendid.

Nevasa had completely set by now and the sky shimmered in red and gold over the desert outside the city, when Sakarra saw two familiar figures walk up the path to Pelasht. She couldn’t help but smile a little at her father, whose voice carried all the way up to where she and Sa’mekh’al were standing.

“Now I thought you said banquet hall, T’Leia. This looks like a small mountain.”

“It was a fortress, once. And partially carved out of the stone that held the only water within many days’ travel. Are you certain you feel better?”

“That Tri-Ox is doing wonders, dear. Not to mention the fact that inferno you call a sun has finally made a graceful exit ... Ah, Little One!”

Sakarra waved back at her father who gave the steep ascent towards the gate a resignated look “I don’t suppose anyone has ever thought of installing some type of elevator for alien visitors?” “Indeed not” T’Leia quirked a brow at the gray-haired Betazoid “since in an emergency any Vulcan present is fully capable of serving as an escalator”

“By the Holy Rings, I missed your humor.” Rel Tyrax chuckled and started climbing with the same determination he would have exhibited if there was a mountain with a rare plant on top.

“Let me guess, everyone else is already inside?” Rel’s breathing was slowly getting back to normal and he held his daughter’s hand with all the signs of a very proud father, but maybe just a touch of melancholy. “To my knowledge, yes” Solkar stated and then politely indicated for the Betazoid and the young woman to precede them, before he held out his paired fingers to his wife.

“Right. Time to make our grand entrance then” Rel smiled again, looking at the vast passageway leading to the inner part of the fortress “You could drive a flock of Theocondts (large ostrich-like bird with flat feet, native to Betazed) through here … ah, little one, so you CAN still laugh.”

Sakarra did her best to look serious but the mental image of honking birds fluttering through the ancient gates in search of a fine buffet just was too much. Her low, resonant laugh, however brief, echoed through the gateway and she tugged on her father’s hand. “Let’s go daddy, before you give me any ideas”

She let her gaze wander over the assembled Betazoids, Vulcans and occasional representatives of other species, while the young man by the door announced the latest arrivals, and her father took in the spectacular sight of Pelasht’s great hall in the light of hundreds of lamps and candles.

‘Little one, if I stare like an idiot please step on my foot’

“I thought you’ve been here before” she said in a voice that was barely above a whisper. But she had to admit, even for one who had seen the impossibly high ceiling, the walls of volcanic basalt and the sheer vastness of the space before them a dozen times, the sight was rather impressive.

“Uh-huh. But never like this” he said in the same low voice, indicating the warm light of the candles and the crimson red shimmer that fell through the doors on the far side of the hall, the last rays of sunlight before purple darkness would fall over this part of T’Khasi.

Most of the delegates were clustered in the area around the fountains, either strolling, talking or helping themselves to some of the food and drink laid out on several tables strategically positioned around the shallow pool that marked the center of the hall. The sculpture on the pedestal in the very middle of the pool was as ancient as the fortress itself and several Betazoids seemed to be debating whether the 3-meter tall stone Shavokh with the wide spread wings was some sort of good luck charm or rather the insignia of some long forgotten warlord.

But even the good 70 Betazoids and about equal number of Vulcans looked rather lost in the hall that was by earth standard a good half-mile long and quarter-mile wide.

Sakarra briefly froze when she picked up the resonance of one she had not quite expected to be here, but before Rel Tyrax could inquire what had prompted his otherwise so calm daughter to startle, a grand Betazoid lady drew everyone’s attention - and elicited a good natured groan from her son.

“Little One!” Lhorexa Tyrax had spotted her grandchild and made her way through the hall with her usual self-assured, royal bearing. Vulcans and Betazoids alike stepped out of her way as she strode on like a galleon under full sails. The effect would indeed have been that of an empress walking among her underlings, had Lady Lhorexa not spoiled it by happily waving a handkerchief and cooing excitedly “Oh just LOOK at you, little one! All ambassadorial dignity and what a lovely tan you have … T‘Leia dearest! Four Deities stand witness, you haven’t aged a day. It is entirely unfair. Greetings from the Twelfth House of Betazed although I’m sure the rest of us will officially annoy you later.”

T’Leia returned the exuberant greeting with the Vulcan salute and Solkar followed suit a mere 0.7 seconds later. “My, I almost didn’t see you there Solkar, still moving silently as a Nightwind. Or are you just hiding behind your magnificent wife until you get a chance to escape those utterly irritating Betazoids?”

With a mischievous smile, Lady Lhorexa pulled an elegant, laced fan out of her lavish dress and started fanning herself vigorously “Rel my dear, stop looking at me like a Fogcat with a toothache. What do you mean, tone what down? Don‘t you think at me in that tone of voice!”

“Hello, grandmother.” Sakarra decided to intervene before the seventy pair of raised brows in the hall climbed all the way to the ceiling.

“My, my. Am I even allowed to still call you ‘Little one’?” Lhorexa Tyrax snapped her fan shut and lightly tapped it against the house sigil on the young woman’s heavy robes “Or do I have to refer to you as…”

“You are, and no, you do not have to. In fact, I would appreciate if you did not.” Sakarra stated plainly and with a brief nod to her father who did indeed look both amused and embarrassed, maneuvered her grandmother towards the Betazoid delegation.

“Why don’t you introduce me, I believe there are actually some people I do not know yet.”

“Well, we shall be diplomatic then.” Lady Lhorexa laughed, her vibrant voice echoing through the great hall. It was an unusual sound to be heard in such dignified surroundings, but if there was anyone who’d be unimpressed by millennia of history, telling of both bloody splendor and brilliant scientists in long robes debating the nature of the universe, it was this Betazoid. “Lwanissa! Look who’s finally here!” She happily waved her fan, managing to get the attention of every last person who was not already staring. To Sakarra’s mild surprise, most looks however were displaying puzzled amusement rather than annoyance.

Before the young woman had a chance to get her bearings, she was surrounded by happy Betazoids and bombarded with telepathic and spoken aloud questions, greetings and overall comments. Thankfully, aunt Lwanissa asserted herself as spokes-Betazoid rather quickly and while even she could not stop the others from being their curious, loud, friendly selves, at least she managed to bring mere disorder into what had been complete chaos.

It had taken only two hours, one spilled drink, eight interruptions due to cultural differences and five due to Betazoids getting themselves into trouble (Solkar had reminded the one responsible for arranging the buffet rather sternly that not ALL species appreciated spicy foods and then gone off to sort out the matter of food spilled over robes and a hastily summoned healer for the coughing Betazoid). But they had finally come to an agreement over who should be on the committee for the telepathic species exchange. Sakarra had just so managed to dodge that particular honor, claiming she was hardly qualified as a mere student of the Science Academy, when there were professors available for the task.

Now she silently moved away from the group who was chatting both aloud and telepathically over some finer points of the agreement, and found a niche near the doors to the balconies where she stopped to briefly rub her temples.

Just as she felt her weary mind begin to settle and began to enjoy the cool night air drifting in through the open doors, the one she had managed to avoid until now suddenly stood next to her. If she hadn’t been so used to his stealthy ways, she might have jumped.

“Good evening, Sovar” she said quietly, her gaze still fixed on the few stars managing to outshine the looming bulk of “The Watcher” T’Khut.

“Good evening, my lady” the low, even baritone had its usual mildly mischievous undertone, but right now there was an unspoken question lingering in it as well.

“I really wish you’d stop that. And yes, I am somewhat tired but I will be fine.”

“You would wish me to address you inappropriately in public?” she couldn’t see his quirked eyebrow but knew it was there all the same. And as always, he managed to elicit that silent chuckle from her that only manifested itself outwardly in a small twinkling of her night-black eyes.

Before she could match his friendly tease with a remark of her own, Sakarra felt his fingertips brush against her heavy robes. He didn’t say ‘You look like you could use some fresh air’ or ‘I was concerned about you’. He didn’t have to. Nodding briefly at his again unspoken suggestion, she strode out onto the gallery overlooking the Academy and the desert beyond, savoring the sweet, clean air and the magnificent view while Sovar moved along silently.

T’Khut was almost full, bathing this side of Pelasht and the sands below in her dark crimson light. Sakarra leaned against the railing which prevented anyone strolling on the balcony from suddenly dropping over a hundred feet and gave the soft exhale that qualified as a Vulcan’s small sigh. “As usual, cousin, your logic is indisputable. This is indeed quite helpful.”

They could still hear the happy voices from inside, but the vast emptiness in front of them seemed to simply swallow all excessive noise, putting any mind at ease simply by being there in its grand, dark beauty. The young woman briefly experienced another moment of amusement when she thought of how very differently others perceived her home though, words like ‘hotter than hell’ and ‘as comfy as a cactus’ were among the more moderate used by the Betazoid delegation.

He was standing so close, she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin and for the briefest moment, it was all peaceful and right the way it was.

After all, what did it matter. What could or should be said? Nothing. Everything. And still she did not look at him but rather watched the passage of the Watcher’s Eye across her rugged surface.

“Sakarra…” finally, she turned and tilted her head at the dark eyed one, surprised at the unusually soft undertone of a voice that had been known to send people scrambling.

But she never found out what he was going to say. Three Betazoids, one of them a grand Lady with an impeccable sense of timing and incredibly protective of her favorite grandchild, stepped out onto the balcony, loudly voicing their astonishment over the magnificence of Vulcan’s sister planet.

“I thought Vulcan has no moon?”

“It doesn’t. It has a nightmare.” Lhorexa Tyrax stated firmly, giving the copper red giant a disapproving look that by all rights should have made T’Khut melt out of sheer embarrassment.

“Little One! We were wondering where you disappeared to! Have we all been giving you a headache, dear?”

“Not quite, grandmother. However, you were certainly trying.” Sakarra said levelly while Sovar greeted the Betazoid lady with a formal bow.

“Uh-huh” Lady Lhorexa sized up that tall, lithe, pointy eared one with the impeccable manners with a sharp look that spelled ‘NOT on my watch, dear’ and then wrapped her arm under that of her grandchild.

“Lwanissa needs you little one, but I promise we’ll behave. Well, try to, anyways. If you’ll excuse us, dear.” she said over her shoulder to Sovar who had not moved save for another brief half-bow.

As Sakarra moved back into the great hall, surrounded by Betazoids who more and more seemed like fluttering birds of paradise with their lavish dresses and musical voices, she heard Sovar in her mind.

‘Ki'nam-tor nash-veh heh kwon-sum dungau nam-tor t'hai'la t'du’

“I thought you said they’re related, Lhorexa” another Betazoid in a shimmering blue dress inquired “They certainly don’t look it.”

“They’re about as closely related as the two of us, Virixa. And you know, sometimes I think that’s not distant enough.” This remark earned Lhorexa Tyrax a bout of laughter and saved Sakarra from both more curious looks and having to be the center of attention. Silently, she sent a wave of gratitude towards her grandmother whom she’d been ready to curse just a minute ago. But she most likely knew that already, as she seemed to have sensed a few more things as well.

‘Kaiidth’ - what is, is.

Sakarra looked out across the warmly lit hall and yes, there she was. Sovar’s betrothed, since they had both been children. One point eight three meters of perfection floating over the ancient floor. Not a hair out of place, features like one of those ancient statues that made you think the artist must have dropped his own chisel afterwards and sworn to never disgrace it with touching another stone after creating such a marvel.

And then there was this half Betazoid, the wild child, the troublemaker, with her exuberant kin. Cousin, protégée. Ne ki’ne. Someone who in the other woman’s mind was obviously unsuitable company for a handsome V’Shar agent with a promising career.

Illogical.

Deciding that the unexpectedly painful tug in her heart was understandable – who wouldn’t be distressed over a dear friend being torn in his loyalties – Sakarra put the matter on the “can’t do anything about it right this moment” shelf and returned her focus to the Betazoid who was eyeing her speculatively.

“Say, grandmother, have you ever tried Pla-savas? I believe you’d find it the next best thing to Uttaberries.”

He watched her leave with the Betazoid Lady and the others, so dignified, so like them and yet not. A being all of her own, and yet it was her Vulcan name, her true name, that defined who she was better than anything Sovar could think of. His features were so perfectly composed, not even his own mother could have told what he was thinking.

But inwardly, he already thought he would not receive an answer when she turned for a mere second and looked back at the shadowy figure on the gallery.

‘As I shall be your friend. Always.’