#( his attachment is so apparent it would be illogical to state it. ) mentor.

[empathicstars]

   The only non-Vulcan Suran ( Aella’s Mentor ) ever loved before Aella was Ania. 

   His joining Starfleet/the scientific survey ( verse-dependent ) was more or less a reactionary response to the loss of his bondmate. He felt he needed to separate himself from the planet, the people -- needed to experience more before he found a new bondmate. He felt he needed to be more complete personally. He thought it a very logical choice. Despite his reasonings for joining Starfleet/survey, he still was a very private person. Very separate, very quiet, very held within. 

   And then he met Ania. 

   A firey, bright, beautiful soul who could read his mind and sense his feelings. Who could slip into the parts of him he kept hidden without a single qualm. She rarely commented vocally on them, due to understanding how private he wished to keep himself ( hence why later Suran will tell Aella that it is impolite to comment on other’s thoughts, for he observed Ania not doing so to be polite to him ) but she knew. Between him and Ania, he never needed to share his level of care towards her. She knew. She could sense it.

   Thus, Suran never learned how to relate inter-personally deeply with other species, because he’d never needed to. Ania knew, and he loved no other non-Vulcans. Where most Vulcans learn that they must eventually connect and reveal parts of themselves to other aliens in order to bridge understanding, Suran never did.

   HENCE his tag on my blog being his attachment is so apparent it would be illogical to state it. Because Ania knew how he felt, he presumed that Aella -- her daughter, with similar abilities -- would understand, too, his feelings. Of course, Aella understands very little inter-personally despite her empathy, ( perhaps in part due to the fact that she had no role model from which to glean understanding, as Mentor did not as well? ) so their connection is primarily miscommunication. 

[empathicstars]

Aella and Mentor Suran’s Call

MENTOR: Aelliana? AELLA: Greetings, Mentor. MENTOR: Aelliana. Greetings. Did we not agree to communicate at an earlier date? AELLA: Yes, sir. I extend my apologies. MENTOR: Why were you unable to keep our appointment? AELLA: I was asleep. MENTOR: (flatly repeats) You were asleep. AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: You were asleep at what would have been considered 1600 hours your time. AELLA: So I have said. MENTOR: Sarcasm, Aelliana? AELLA: Never, sir.

(There is a pause, to spell his silent acknowledgment and, perhaps, distaste, of her sarcasm.) MENTOR: Are you neglecting sleep? AELLA: I had merely been caught up in work, recently. MENTOR: Enough to neglect sleep? AELLA: (in a warning voice) Mentor. MENTOR: There is no way you can work at full capacity if you do not take care of yourself. AELLA: (tersely) Yes, sir. MENTOR: Can you not handle the pressures of being a lieutenant? AELLA: Mentor, I am fine. MENTOR: I thought you were in communications. AELLA: Mentor, you know I am a linguist. MENTOR: Then what could possibly be causing you such stress in your environment? The Enterprise has not been completed yet, has it? AELLA: No, it has not. We still have shifts, however. MENTOR: Shifts that you, perhaps, find... stressful? AELLA: Mentor, no more on this. MENTOR: If you are returning home, I need to be prepared. AELLA: I am not returning to New Vulcan. I have merely been involved with a... project. MENTOR: That is a vague word, Aelliana. AELLA: It is as direct as I can be about it. I have been told to communicate no further on it. MENTOR: … I do not understand. You are only a junior grade lieutenant. On what could you be working that-- AELLA: (hard) Mentor. MENTOR: Fine, Aelliana. Am I to assume there was a reason for contacting me? AELLA: Yes. I... broke my lyre strings. I wanted to know if you knew where I could get more. MENTOR: You broke your lyre strings. AELLA: Only two. MENTOR: Which two? AELLA: 10 and 13. MENTOR: How did you manage to break them? AELLA: I merely tuned too tightly. MENTOR: (flatly, obviously reading far into it) Is that so? (A beat.)  AELLA: Mentor, if there is something you need to say, say it. MENTOR: It is clear to me that you are not taking care of yourself. I am not sure you are well enough to return to Starfleet yet. AELLA: (hard and guarded) I am. MENTOR: Are you? So you have dealt with your experiences? You have moved passed them? AELLA: (still guarded) Yes, I have. MENTOR: So Starfleet is merely overworking junior grade lieutenants? AELLA: (hard) Mentor. MENTOR: If you are not ready to return to Starfleet, you-- AELLA: You did not seem to be very concerned with whether or not I was ready when I was sixteen. MENTOR: You still harbor ill will towards me? From something that happened over 10 years ago? If so, I cannot imagine it is possible for you to have recovered from the Nova. AELLA: Do not say that. It is completely different. The Nova was a moment -- a day. But your choice impacted my entire path for me. You chose for me. I can never be anything different. MENTOR: One may argue all parents influence their children's lives in such a way. AELLA: You are not my parent. MENTOR: Aelliana, you are being more emotional than normal. AELLA: (as if considering the true reason behind such) I am on a base full of humans. MENTOR: And you believe you are allowing them to affect you? AELLA: (open to the consideration) Perhaps. (There is a pause. Mentor seems to understand something by that answer.) MENTOR: What is it? (Another pause. Aella seems unsure -- but always settles on honesty when it comes to her mentor.) AELLA: I have made... friends. MENTOR: Oh? Fascinating. AELLA: One of them... will return home shortly. There will no way to contact him once he is gone. MENTOR: No way? AELLA: Do not question me, Mentor. Be assured I speak the truth. (A moment of silence. They are both considering something. Then…) MENTOR: Why have you chosen to pursue a friendship with him, if he should not be here long? AELLA: I do not know. MENTOR: Aelliana, your fear fo-- AELLA: I know. MENTOR: You have chosen to pursue a career in Starfleet. Correct? AELLA: Correct. MENTOR: Do you think his departure will compromise you in a way that may make it more difficult to pursue that career? AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: Then I do not see the logic of it. AELLA: (looking downwards -- voice saddened) No. Nor do I. MENTOR: You sound disappointed. AELLA: (back to being guarded and hard) I thought it was rude to read other's emotions to them, sir. MENTOR: I am not an empath. I am making an observation on your given tone. AELLA: Right. MENTOR: I am concerned about your level of emotion. Not just for the friend. AELLA: So am I. MENTOR: (pause) They are considering planting the ka’dirka flowers, Aelliana. AELLA: (hard) I am not coming back to New Vulcan. MENTOR: Perhaps you should. AELLA: This is what I have chosen. This is what I must do. MENTOR: Your duty, as it were? AELLA: Yes. MENTOR: I understand. But a... a job half-done is a job not at all done. AELLA: Yes, sir. MENTOR: Tell me about your friend. AELLA: Ah… why? MENTOR: Apparently, you cannot speak of your work. It may surprise you to know I have a vested interest in your life. (A long pause.) AELLA: I do not know what you wish to know. He is a human. Lieutenant Reg Barclay. MENTOR: Communications? AELLA: No. Engineering. MENTOR: How long have you know him? AELLA: I met him the first day I came to Yorktown. (as if an afterthought) I played my lyre for him. MENTOR: Did you? AELLA: Yes. He thinks I play well. MENTOR: (as if this means something to him) ... I see. AELLA: I have another friend. Commander Montgomery Scott. MENTOR: The commander? AELLA: Not of the ship, no. He is the chief engineer. Though I have also met the commander. Commander S’chn T’gai Spock. He is not unfriendly. He is Vulcan. MENTOR: I recall hearing of him. You seem to be more popular than anticipated. AELLA: Is it not strange? MENTOR: I did not say that. You appear to be close with some of your superiors. Does this have anything to do with your involvement in the project? AELLA: (clearly, slightly angrily -- as if to remind him) The project of which I have made it clear I cannot speak to you? MENTOR: (in innocence) Yes. AELLA: … No. And again, I cannot speak of it. MENTOR: Truly? AELLA: Truly. I have no wish to deceive you, mentor. MENTOR: No? Then have you recovered from the Nova? AELLA: (slightly exasperated) Lyre strings. I merely wanted to know if you had lyre strings. MENTOR: Aelliana, did you truly reach out to me merely because you could not find strings for your lyre? AELLA: It was the chief reason. I could not find any here. But it has been six months since I last saw you -- I supposed it probably made sense to call you. MENTOR: I see. AELLA: How goes it with you? MENTOR: All is as it was when you left. I have not been requested to move yet, though the Federation is working hard to help build New Vulcan. AELLA: It is unfortunate to hear that. MENTOR: Spare no worry for me, Aelliana. AELLA: Then you shall do the same for me. MENTOR: To quote you from earlier, Aelliana, it is different. I am your caretaker. AELLA: I am twenty-five years old. Even by Vulcan standards, I would be seen as an adult. You are no longer my caretaker. MENTOR: Unless you get decommissioned again, correct? AELLA: Mentor, I have asked you to speak no further on this subject. MENTOR: I do not see the logic in it. AELLA: Do you not have faith in me -- in my ability? MENTOR: Regardless of my perceived faith in you and your abilities, I do not believe you have adequately handled your feelings on this matter. You had great difficulty on New Vulcan. AELLA: I just needed time. MENTOR: Time does not heal solely. One must make a concerted effort -- AELLA: Stop, Mentor. Have faith in me or do not -- trust me or do not, I do not care. MENTOR: Aelliana, it is illogical to lie. AELLA: But you will stop questioning me on this. I am an adult. I am an officer. I will make my own choices. MENTOR: Your own choices? I see. So… will you be discontinuing your friendship with this… Lieutenant Barclay, that is leaving? Have you dealt with your terror of losing all those around you, or will you be discontinuing your friendship, as well, with that commander?   AELLA: I will be coming to my own conclusion on that. Either way, I will make the correct choice. The one that causes me the most fear. MENTOR: How is that the correct choice? AELLA: If I am choosing what scares me, then I am choosing for logic -- not for comfort. Not for emotion, but for strength. MENTOR: ... I see. AELLA: Will you send me the lyre strings? MENTOR: Yes, Aelliana. It will take some time, however. AELLA: I know. Thank you. MENTOR: Would you like some theris-masu, as well? AELLA: I would be appreciative of it. MENTOR: Then I hope to hear from you again soon. AELLA: Yes, sir. MENTOR: Goodbye, Aelliana. AELLA: Goodbye.

[empathicstars]

@solgunslinger

   Pain. Death. Darkness.

   That is all life is, after all. That is all she is.

   It does not matter how many times she confirms to herself that she is in Raal, Vulcan, in her room, in her home, with her mentor -- for she is not there. She is on the Nova, dying hundreds of deaths in hundreds of different ways, living lives that are not her own, seeing what is not hers.

   However, not all can be so lucky -- so Mentor Suran thinks, independently of his adopted daughter. He leaves her tea he knows she’d appreciate any other time and food at her door, but she retrieves none of them. She lives her life in a daze, while he must continue with his duty.

   She’d expressed deep upset and discomfort over not being reinstated into Starfleet, but he cannot imagine her being anything other than a drain of resources, had she been assigned elsewhere. ( Is it unloving to think so? He is unsure. This divide has always lived within him -- the eternal question of: CAN I BE A FATHER TO ONE OF EMOTION AND LOGICAL? Almost every time the question surfaces, he feels he chooses emotion -- though he is sure Aelliana would disagree. )

   The door calls to him, and he wonders, absently, who it could be. He is not expecting students for some time, and so, carefully, patiently, does he cross the floor, open the door.

   There, in front of him, stands an armored woman -- dressed in a familiar set. Many, many years ago, he’d known a woman who wore the same, who dated the mother of the child that lay in her room at this very moment, bereaved and broken. He finds himself curling an eyebrow upward at the stranger, but his face betrays nothing else.

   “... Can I be of assistance to you?”

[empathicstars]

   for all Aella dislikes/has a rocky relationship with Mentor Suran, he is the one, sole person that she always aims to be honest with 

[empathicstars]

ANIA: Surrie, you still there?

SURAN: I am still here.

ANIA: Good. (voice angled away) Okay, quiet down, Aella, Mommy’s working. (returning) Haha -- well… sort of.

SURAN: I can call back at another time, if you so please.

ANIA: (light laugh) Aella’s still gonna live here at another time.

SURAN: But perhaps, if she were asleep --

ANIA: No, no, there’s a whole bedtime ritual, and who knows if she’s sleeping through the night this time? Kids always get in the way, Surrie. You’d know that, if you had any kids. (a pause, then her voice is full of horror) -- … Oh. Oh, God. Suran, I’m so --

SURAN: (quickly) I understood your intent.

ANIA: I still shouldn’t’ve said that. I’m sorry, I’ve been saying it to my students a lot. ‘You guys would know, if you had kids.’ So I wasn’t even --

SURAN: I understand, Ania. Do not be so afraid of incurring my offense.

ANIA: That’s not what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of breaking your wittle heart.

SURAN: Wittle…?

ANIA: (playfully) Haha, oh my God! I can’t believe I got you to say it.

SURAN: Ania --

ANIA: Okay, okay. Who is our first bachelorette?

SURAN: Please do not call them that.

ANIA: Okay, fine. Whose profile am I going to be perusing to decide whether or not the two of you would be good Vulcan lovers?

SURAN: (long, stunned pause) Ania, I believe living with a child has had an adverse affect on your maturity lev--

ANIA: (as if reminiscing on a happier time) I still can’t believe I got you to say ‘wittle’.

SURAN: … Perhaps I should call back at another time.

ANIA: Oh, stop it. Aren’t you supposed to be all thick-skinned? (laughs, before her focus shifts) I got five profiles. Did you send over any more?

SURAN: I presumed, perhaps incorrectly, that that would be a sufficient number to start --

ANIA: Oh my God, chill out. It’s fine, it’s fine, I just wanted to make sure I had it all. I got them here. Okay, give me a minute.(a pause, with clicking and silence) … Oh! I like this one.

SURAN: I cannot see your screen, Ania.

ANIA: I’m getting there! Slow your metaphorical horses! Her name is… Tasav. She seems nice. She likes old literature… speaks five different languages… she wants children, too.

SURAN: Yes. Quite.

ANIA: I don’t know, I think she’s pretty perfect. At least perfect enough for a first date.

SURAN: I see.

ANIA: Why? Is something wrong?

SURAN: Check her age.

ANIA: Uh, okay. … She’s two years older than you. Great, so, in your age range! … Aella, stop pulling Mommy’s hair.

SURAN: Exactly, Ania.

ANIA: Aella, go play with your crayons, sweetie. Yeah, right there. Sorry, Surrie. Is there a problem?

SURAN: She is my elder.

ANIA: Uh, yeah, and... -- wait, that’s a problem? You’re joking.

SURAN: Rarely.

ANIA: Seriously? She’s two years older than you.

SURAN: Which would make her my elder, as I have already established.

ANIA: Your elder by two years.

SURAN: Yet still, unsurprisingly, my elder.

ANIA: Suran, you know how hard it’s going to be to find anyone, right? Vulcan, your age, wanting to have children -- you know finding someone you even minorly relate to is going to be like, finding a diamond in the rough, right?

SURAN: I once thought you were the optimist of us both, Ania.

ANIA: Yeah, about whether or not it will rain or whether an outfit will look good on someone. On things of feeling, not of fact. It is going to be difficult to find a mate, any way you swing it. You can’t just make these… arbitrary reasons to not even give someone a shot.

SURAN: Whether or not it will rain is a thing of fact, especially now with weather contr--

ANIA: I need you to stop talking now, Surrie. You understood my point, right?

SURAN: Yes. ANIA: (sighs) Okay, let’s move on. Uh… next is… Tu’Pari.

SURAN: Ah, yes.

ANIA: A geologist. I love her hair.  

SURAN: Hair is not a huge deciding factor for me.

ANIA: It was just a comment, Surrie. (reads silently) … Well, she likes walking on the beach, and you live on one. I don’t know. She seems sufficiently Vulcan, but not super uptight. I think I like her, too. OH, and look, she’s younger than you.

SURAN: (uncertainly) Yes.

ANIA: (sadly) But.

SURAN: But… she specifically mentioned that she does not like strenuous physical activity.

ANIA: (a pause, then, a bit flabbergasted) Suran, I don’t think I’ve… ever… seen you do physical activity outside of orders. I mean, ever. Not once.

SURAN: No. I do not partake in physical activity extremely often.

ANIA: I’ve known you for seven years, Surrie. Not once.

SURAN: But I would want to, in the future --

ANIA: You’ve never even talked about physical activities that you like.

SURAN: It was not relevant at the time.

ANIA: (quietly but passionately) Oh my God.

SURAN: I would hope that, in the future, I could partake in physical activities with my partner.

ANIA: Oh my -- oh my God, Surrie, I dON’T THINK SHE MEANT THOSE KINDS OF PHYSICAL ACTIVITIES.

SURAN: (slightly shocked) Nor did I, Ania!

ANIA: So we don’t like Tu’Pari because she doesn’t do strenuous physical activity -- which, by the way, you don’t either?

SURAN: I believe I must, as you would say, pass.

ANIA: (laughs, keeping her voice light) Right. Of course. Makes sense. So why did you even send me her profile, then?

SURAN: Pardon?

ANIA: (voice hardening) What, am I hard to hear? I said, why did you even send me her profile? Or Tasav’s, for that matter?

SURAN: You are angry.

ANIA: You’re dang right, I am! What’s the point of this, Surrie?

SURAN: You offered to help me.

ANIA: Yes! You know, you’re right, I did! And I want to help you. I really, really do. Because I want you to marry a Vulcan lady and have Vulcan babies and be happy for maybe ten minutes, minimum. But obviously, I can’t help you do that.

SURAN: I do not understand.

ANIA: Oh, no, you do. You do understand. I know exactly what you’re doing right now. I don’t need to even hear your voice or see your face to know what this is all about.

SURAN: (beginning to bristle as well) Then enlighten me, Ania.

ANIA: You’re bitter. You’re mad that I haven’t picked up my life and moved to Vulcan just so I could not satisfy everything you want, and so you’re sending me all these Vulcan women who are oh so woefully inadequate to attempt to guilt me into getting your way.

SURAN: That is not the case.

ANIA: Oh? No? It’s not? Then why did you send me these profiles of women that you’ve already decided you won’t do anything with? (suddenly, as hurried as if it has relevance) Why did you stay after Raztik?

SURAN: (obviously surprised) What?

ANIA: Is my mic on? Why did you stay after Raztik, Suran!

SURAN: You are a telepath. I had presumed you were aware why I stayed after Raztik.

ANIA: Who knows? Maybe I am. But I don’t think you can admit it.

SURAN: Ania, I would be obliged if you would stop this.

ANIA: You told me a month before Raztik that once we finished our missions in that sector, you were going back to Vulcan. So why did you stay after Raztik?

SURAN: (a long pause, before) I knew the mission on Raztik deeply affected you. I knew how important that mission was to you -- how important your team had been. I did not want to leave until I had made sure you had sufficiently recovered.

ANIA: (sighs) I know. Then why didn’t you follow me to Betazed? If you cared about me enough to stay after Raztik, you could have followed me to Betazed.

SURAN: (he shifts uncomfortably, but says nothing)

ANIA: I know why. Should I tell you? You went to Vulcan because you wanted to go home. You missed your people, you missed your planet. You wanted to start a family. You were… ready to be home. Am I right?

SURAN: Yes.

ANIA: And has anything changed?

SURAN: No.

ANIA: Then why are you expecting a different response, Surrie? Why do you think this conversation is going to go down any differently when nothing’s different? You are not going to move to Betazed, are you?

SURAN: No. But you could move to Vulcan.

ANIA: Ha! Yeah, right. And give up teaching? I mean, forever? You know they wouldn’t let me teach on Vulcan.

SURAN: You could be a full-time mother.

ANIA: I am a full-time mother. That’s why I left Starfleet, remember? I’m a part-time teacher. It’s fun for me. But I’d never be able to teach again, if I went to Vulcan. And, oh, God, can you imagine what your neighbors would think? It’d ruin your Vulcan reputation.

SURAN: But, Ania…

ANIA: (in the same way he’d said ‘Ania’) Suran. I know how important your reputation is to you.

SURAN: It is not important enough. It is an intangible thing, and not as important as you are to me.  

ANIA: I can never give you children! And you want children.

SURAN: Biology is advancing more and --

ANIA: Oh, God, please. I am a biologist, and, in my factual, pessimistic knowledge, I know that gene splicing doesn’t work more often than it does. I don’t want to watch my baby die in a test tube. Besides -- there’s millions of children, all over the known universe, waiting for homes.

SURAN: Ah. Yes. I recall your emotional want to home every orphan.

ANIA: Don’t say that like it’s a failing. If you want to perpetuate your lineage, that’s fine. If I want to adopt a ton of children and make sure they’re happy and loved, that’s fine, too.

SURAN: I suppose that is not an unfair point.

ANIA: Thank you. (angled away) Aella, no! Get that out of your mouth! Aella --! (coming back, briefly) Hang on, Surrie.

SURAN: I will… hang.

ANIA: (a few minutes later) Okay, crisis averted. But it is b-e-d-t-i-m-e for the little one, soon, so I will have to go in a bit.

SURAN: I understand. First, Ania, there is a subject I wish to broach with you.

ANIA: Broach away.

SURAN: I may use some rather… terran terminology in order to adequately convey my meaning.

ANIA: It’s a safe space, Surrie.

SURAN: You have spent the last ten minutes insulting me.

ANIA: Yeah, it’s a safe space when it needs to be and a war zone when it needs to be. But hey, I can always go back to war zone, if you’d like.

SURAN: (pauses. Waits until the moment has passed) Ania… I am… frightened… of a concept you seem to hold dear.

ANIA: Uh-oh. Maybe I shouldn’t have agreed to this.

SURAN: Ania.

ANIA: Sorry. What is it?

SURAN: This concept you have of… reputation. It is the reason you did not tell Aella’s father about her conception, is it not?

ANIA: It is.

SURAN: And it is the reason you are daunted by a relationship with me.

ANIA: It’s one reason in a long line, Surrie. One in a long line.

SURAN: I am afraid you value yourself less than you value a reputation in which you take no part. Ania, let it be clear: I do not value my reputation half as much as I do you.

ANIA: Thank you, Surrie.

SURAN: Is reputation important to you?

ANIA: (a pause) Do you remember when we first met?

SURAN: I believe I remember most of the encounter.

ANIA: Do you remember the first question you asked me?

SURAN: “… Why do you require my help?”

ANIA: Okay, the second.

SURAN: “... Are you pursuing a friendship with me in order to attempt to advance in rank?”

ANIA: Bingo, that’s the one! Didn’t I tell you I’d been asked that question before?

SURAN: You did.

ANIA: But… it didn’t stop the fact that I wanted to be your friend, did it?

SURAN: I understand where you are going with this line of conversation.

ANIA: I don’t care about reputation, Surrie. But the fact is that the universe runs on it, now. And for many, it’s really the only thing credits can’t buy. The only thing left to earn. I get why it’s so important to others. I’m not sacrificing that for other people without their approval.

SURAN: You have my approval to ruin my reputation.

ANIA: I’m still not going to.

SURAN: Why not?

ANIA: Test tube baby. Leaving my job. Aella. Leaving Betazed. My garden.

SURAN: (flatly) Your garden.

ANIA: I have a really nice outdoor garden that I wouldn’t be able to have on Vulcan. (at his silence) Okay, yes, it’s a small factor, but it’s still a factor! Sue me, I like my garden!

SURAN: I would not take legal action against--

ANIA: Oh my God, Surrie. (laughing) You’re so funny. Besides, you have a Vulcan beach you’re not giving up!

SURAN: Is that what it would take? Giving up my... ‘Vulcan beach’?

ANIA: You have to admit, this would all be a lot easier if you just moved to Betazed.

SURAN: You are correct. 

ANIA: You could teach here, on Betazed. No one would care here. You could raise Aella, like your own, and be her father. (sighs at the thought) But that’s not what you want, is it?

SURAN: (slowly) No. Yet… I am finding that… I am having a difficult time coming to the understanding that I value a planet and conceptual children more than I do you.

ANIA: (laughing) I know. Wild, isn’t it?

SURAN: (softly) Indeed.

ANIA: (compassionately) Don’t feel badly, Surrie. I don’t think a beach or a garden are the biggest reasons we’re apart.  

SURAN: No?

ANIA: Of course not. If it were, we’d be together. It’s just… we… we’re just not logical, Surrie. For either of us. Sure, there’s some reasons we shouldn’t be together, but the fact of the matter is that there’s no reason we should be.

SURAN: (slowly, almost defensively) We are a good team.

ANIA: Yeah, in that we laugh at each other’s jokes, help each other with science experiments, and cover each other in battle. But we have totally different philosophies in life. Which is fine for friends. Fine for best friends. Heck, maybe even fine for lovers. But for parents? For soulmates? How do we raise children like that? How do we make a life out of that? If we are always at war with each other, always… on different pages?

SURAN: It would be through mutual respect. And some would suggest that the best way to make a life is by coming from two totally differing worldviews.

ANIA: Maybe. I don’t know. But on paper, there’s no reason why you should be with me and, not say, Tasav. Or why I should be with you and not Isaac. You certainly have more in common with Tasav, and I with Isaac.

SURAN: I do not know who Isaac is.

ANIA: He’s one of my students.

SURAN: You are using an underage child as an example?

ANIA: No, Suran, I teach adults. Just -- most of them don’t have children. The point is, there’s just… no particular reason, on paper, that we should be together and Isaac and I or you and Tasav shouldn’t.

SURAN: But we do not live on paper.

ANIA: Maybe not. But either way we’re not together, right?

SURAN: (he appears to have no answer to that, so he pauses and goes down another line of questioning) You listed Aella as another reason to not move to Vulcan.

ANIA: Yes.

SURAN: Were you also meaning to imply that Aella would not have a good life on Vulcan?

ANIA: Oh, sorry. Is that how that came off? No. I’m meaning to state, definitively, without a doubt in my mind, that I am confident Aella would not have as good of a life on Vulcan as she would on Betazed.

SURAN: And yet, I am the child’s godfather.

ANIA: Anything’s better than being in an orphanage. And being a godfather to a child is a last resort thing, not a best case scenario thing.

SURAN: I see.

ANIA: And then you’d be a father, of sorts! Or, you could be an actual, blood father, and start by going on a date with one of these lovely women.

SURAN: We are back on the dating, it seems.

ANIA: It would seem that’s the reason you called.

SURAN: That is not false.

ANIA: Just give them a try, okay? Just one little date?

SURAN: Do you mean with the two you approved, or all five of them?

ANIA: Let’s just start with two. I think five was shooting for the sun, when you haven’t dated in… I mean, ever. Not… not ever. Oh! Also make it obvious, if you ask them both out around the same time, that you are pursuing all your options, or something, and not, I don’t know, exclusively dating. Or, better yet, only contact one at a time.

SURAN: I suppose meeting for a cup of tea to discuss a possible potential relationship could do me no harm.

ANIA: Ooh, a tea date! How classy! So long as it’s not jogging, or interpretive dance, I’m sure you’ll have no issues.

SURAN: … I really do enjoy physical activity, Ania.

ANIA: I’m sure at one point in your life you did, Surrie. Maybe when you were ten.

SURAN: … Ania.

ANIA: (giggles) Sorry. Ah -- by the way, you didn’t need to worry. Your intervention was very Vulcan.

SURAN: … Thank you.

ANIA: That’s what I’m here for.

SURAN: (suddenly, seriously) Ania. I do care for you, deeply. I do love you.

ANIA: I know, Surrie. I love you too. That’s why I want you to marry a Vulcan woman and have tons of Vulcan babies. I want you to be happy. (sighs, suddenly) God, sometimes I wish we were back in Starfleet. Things were less complicated then, right? And I didn’t have to worry about time difference when I called on you.

SURAN: I was under the impression that… you wanted to leave Starfleet.

ANIA: It was the best choice.

SURAN: ... You did not want to leave Starfleet?

ANIA: It was the logical choice, Surrie. Now, stop confessing your love to me and go contact one of your online dating profile girls for a first date.

SURAN: (pauses) It must be your goal to make me uncomfortable.

ANIA: Depends. Am I succeeding?

SURAN: (resignedly) Good night, Ania. And give those wishes, as well, to Aella.

ANIA: Aella! Come say good night to Mentor Suran! Say night-night, baby! (laughs) Okay, Surrie. I love you. Enjoy your tea date! Good night!

SURAN: Good night, Ania.

ANIA: AH, wait, Suran!

SURAN: Yes?

ANIA: Are you still here?

SURAN: Yes, Ania. Is something the matter?

ANIA: No, no! You reminded me, with your tea date! Could you send me some of that Vulcan tea I liked? (dramatically) The replicator is ruining it and my appreciation for the finer things in life.

SURAN: Might I remind you that your first taste of it was replicated.

ANIA: You might, but I’ll ignore it and continue on.

SURAN: I knew I should have never allowed you access to my tea cache.

ANIA: (in complete dramatics) Ah, but what’s done is done! Your stash has spoiled me forever!

SURAN: Please do not call it a stash. It was not contraband.

ANIA: (deliberately) Your stash has spoiled me forever.

SURAN: (sighs)

ANIA: (continuing in dramatics) We have to admit it; I’m a fine tea connoisseur, now, and these replicated beverages can no longer satisfy my sensitive taste buds!

SURAN: I would not quit your day job to become an actress, Ania.

ANIA: (with a sharp intake of breath) You wound me! Are your jabs aimed to kill, my good sir! All I requested was some tea!

SURAN: (hesitantly) … Perhaps I could arrange to send some.

ANIA: Don’t be so coy. (mockingly upset) If you’re not sending yourself to Betazed, the least you could do is send some tea. (loud laughing, as Aella cries in the back) Oh my God, I gotta hang up before you or Aella kill me.

SURAN: (with a touch of humor) That may be wise for your safety.

ANIA: Love you!

SURAN: Goodbye, Ania.

[empathicstars]

🍂

for every 🍂 i get, i’ll reveal one of the most important people in my muse’s life | i would say accepting but this is the only person in Aella’s life | @thefleetsfinest

L’vor Kov Suran, also known to some as Mentor Suran, was one of the middle children of a family of six. (He was the fourth eldest.) His family life was never completely conventional, for his parents’ logic had always been a little strange. (Hence his Romulan name.) His father was a scientist, his mother a diplomat, and like most parents, they wished their children to follow in their footsteps and find themselves in respectable, strong careers. Suran was closest to the sister right above him in age and she was, arguably, the smartest of the children. Her passion was stellar cartography, and Suran used to frequently sit with her and learn, as his affinity always lied in literature, rather than science. Still, he knew it was more logical to pursue a career in science, and went to study physics and ecology. (Getting the equivalent of ‘minor’ degrees in literature to satiate his curiosity.)    Suran grew up near Raal in quite a small neighborhood. He knew everyone in his town very well, but he was often more quiet and secluded, spending time focusing on preparing his own future, rather than living in the present.    Suran’s bondmate was DvirFer’atYch’a – a young girl of whom he had known all of his life. Suran and Ych’a did not immediately get along, for their interests were so varied. From childhood, Ych’a always spoke strongly of her wish to become the strongest Vulcan alive, and she became very dedicated to physical activity. She told Suran that she wanted to, one day, have pursue a career in which she could protect people. He was enchanted by her pure heart and her unconquerable spirit, and felt strongly for her before their bond was formed. He looked forward to starting a large family with her.    Shortly after their careers began, Suran and Ych’a married, and began their family. Ych’a was pregnant shortly thereafter, and Suran and her looked forward to and spoke of the children they would have one day. During her pregnancy, Ych’a was working as added security on another planet, when she died in a terrorist attack. It came as an added blow to him, as his eldest brother had recently lost his life, as well. He spent time in mourning, but could find nowhere peaceful to center himself, and decided to leave Vulcan for a short amount of time. It was around this time when he lost contact with most of his family, but he never worked to reestablish such – again, focusing on his own future rather than the present or the past.    After Suran worked on a starbase for many years, he was transferred to Federation ships – on which one of them, he met Ania Moore. She was driven, smart, beautiful – and reminded him, in many ways, of Ych’a. He found himself inexplicably drawn to her, but she was primarily focused on their friendship.    Suran was planning on returning to Vulcan when Ania lost a good number of her close friends during a particularly dangerous mission. He remained in Starfleet long enough to help her through such, and shortly thereafter, she discovered she was pregnant, and left Starfleet to raise her daughter. Suran left Starfleet then, as well, and found Raal in need of teachers. He began teaching in science before he broadened his scope to include literature and music, and he was primarily known for mentoring those who felt they needed extra school attention after their daily studying.    Suran traveled to Betazed often to see Ania and her daughter, Aelliana, but again, did not reconnect with his family. He came to watch Aelliana after Ania accepted a final mission from Starfleet – quietly chuffed he had not been asked, as well – but, unfortunately, Ania lost her life in such. Suran considered strongly leaving Aelliana on Betazed in an orphanage, unsure that he could give her a fulfilling life, but his memory of Ania’s strong distaste for the idea of any child growing up without a family, in addition to the fact that he’d have to surrender all control over Aelliana forever, legally, made him decide to take her with him, back on Vulcan.    In AOS timelines, Suran loses his entire family in the destruction of Vulcan, and is always regretful that he did not reconnect with them earlier. 

[empathicstars]

   He loves her.

   Black eyes -- dark hair -- small simper -- he loves it all. The vivacity with which she reads, with which she studies -- the quiet, contemplative, swept away look she has when staring at the moonless sky… he loves it all.

   Aelliana Moore became his in what felt like a nightmare. He could remember the intensity of feeling that crashed around him when he received the transmission that Ania was deceased. Gone. Swept into the tides of death, just like the wife he had once loved had, pregnant with their first. The pain was so comparable it was stunning. But this time, he could not spend ample time in meditation -- he could not divert attention away to grieve.

   For he had a three year old to protect.

   She is her mother’s daughter in every way. She looks so strikingly similar that at times it pains his old heart -- seeing her glare at him or hearing her voice turned harsh, a voice so like Ania’s own. Accented from Betazed speech that fades more and more every day, as she grapples with Vulcan and Federation standard and -- well, she’s already taking on more language. As a child. A child!

   She demands to be called ‘Aella’, like her mother called her, but there are many reasons of which to dissent. 1. The chief reason, being first: he is not her mother, and makes no qualms about it. Though Ania died when Aelliana was young, she has never lapsed in calling him ‘mentor’, never once lived in a delusion that he was always her caretaker. He can see it in her anger, in her tantrums that she throws at the most ludicrous, inappropriate times. They both know clearly that they are bonded by circumstance and association, not blood.

   2. Aelliana is what Ania would call a beautiful name, and she must remember the fullness of her heritage. No use in cutting off and shaving away that which makes her whole -- though he watches her do it everywhere else everyday.

   3. He wants her to learn that in life not everyone will cater to her wishes, her smallest pleas. Many, in fact, will refuse to ever care about her.

  But he’s sure that she thinks it is only for one reason. 1. He hates her. She has said it more than once. But he gives her leniency, food, gentle wisdom. He helps her reach things that are high up and explains to her how the world works. She must know it is not true. The words must be spoken purely of emotion that’s in the moment, not logic.  

  Aelliana is nine now. She only throws tantrums when Suran is there, which begs the question: does she want his attention? He gives it to her. She shuns and ignores him. He leaves. She awaits his return, and... throws a tantrum. It is an endless cycle, on and off, one he prays will end. He has her take up lyre -- encourages her language learning and her writing. He tells her about her mother’s affinity for tea. Nothing helps. He wonders if he would have been such a miserable parent to his own. He drinks tea, staring at the setting sun through a huge window, and placates himself by telling him that a Vulcan child would be easier, but knows such assertions are illogical and only self-serving.

  “Why didn’t you leave me at an orphanage on Betazed?” she screams one night.

  He looks at the food he’s made -- made, not replicated -- for her, looks at the broken treasures about which he will not get mad. It must be obvious, by now, his deep care for her. His attachment is so apparent, it would be illogical to state it.

  “It was the way your mother was raised. She often spoke of her wish for another life.”

  “Any life would be better than one with you!” And slam goes the door. There will be no apology in the morning, no attempt to make amends, but he will accept her silence and love her anyway. His love must be so apparent, and that must be what she hates.

  One evening, he gets a call. He is in the middle of mentoring a student, but takes it due to its stated urgency. Aelliana has almost drowned at the beach. He drops what he is doing, rushes to where she is kept safe. He tells everyone he sees that she is allergic to the ka’dirka flower, but there is no need for that to be kept here, anyway. He feels embarrassed at how obvious his care for her is, but she refuses to even meet his eyes. She’s in the hospital again, days later, with severe dehydration. He asks the doctors to keep her there further. Logic tells him that perhaps he is failing as a parent, and perhaps she needs to be monitored closely, by those who can actually do their intended job. She has been close to death twice recently. He must be careful, now, for he would not be able to survive if he lost her.

  “Are you attempting to pass me off to the medical staff?” she hisses, softly, when only he can hear. He pretends it has no effect on him, but asks her to be released several days ahead of what he originally planned. It will help her little if she believes she’s unwanted, correct?

  Aelliana is thirteen now. What a difference a few years makes. She is quiet. Reserved. There are no more tantrums. Suran, illogically, almost wishes for them, now, for there is nothing in their stead. She drinks tea. She studies. She walks the desert at night. He stays awake until he notices she is home, but does not disturb her. Some nights, she does not come home, and he feels his heart seize with terror until he arrives at school and finds her there. She tells him, in one of her rare moments of speech, that the other students treat her unkindly, but he knows his involvement would only escalate the situation, so he tells her to pay them no mind. This apparently isn’t the answer she was looking for, but he knows not what else to say.

  He leaves tea out for her and food. He spends hours with her helping her refine her lyre practice. He buys her books in different languages, frequently, and installs a bookshelf in her small bedroom.

  His love for her must be stifling, which is why she is so quiet. Perhaps he should pull away.

  Aelliana is fifteen. She disappears for a week. She is found, near death, and claims she does not remember who she is. He thinks she is pretending, at first, but when it veers on her second week at a hospital and she is still not sending him sharp looks, he assumes she must be telling the truth. He visits her daily and brings her books from home, for she still remembers all her languages. He tells her stories and, because he cannot change the situation, enjoys it. She is staring at him with the same open innocence that Ania once stared at him. So much of Ania lives in this child! He has something so precious, he knows. He wants to keep Aelliana safe at all costs.

  She returns to herself, and he is relieved. In an effort to keep up the open channels of communication they had shared during her loss of self, he tells her about his plans to send her to Starfleet academy within the next year, in an early entrance program. The reaction is rather unexpected. How can she be so mad -- so furious? Does his consideration for her future not impress her? She was a child when he was making these decisions -- would she rather have settled on whatever fleeting fantasy the tantrum-throwing child would have chosen, had she been consulted? It would get her away from Vulcan, a home he knows she does not want.

  The words she says are shocking. They speak of a child who has never known love.

  Hasn’t he given her all he has?

  Maybe… it is not enough.

  She is sixteen now, off to metaphorically conquer the galaxy, wearing a white dress that flows in the wind, with her hair tied up beautifully. In her sack is her PADD, her lyre, clothing, some tea, and her favorite books. The rest are safe here, he assures her. She will not need them for school.

  She’s stepping onto the shuttle that will take her to a spacedock -- and from there, all the way to Earth. Her second time traveling to another planet… another star system. He watches her with a blank face and a full heart.

  He has loved her with all he has.

  She stares back at him, with a face as blank as his own, and he cannot help but wonder: has she loved him, too?

  What a mystery she is, even to him. And so his parting words of advice -- to be careful with the humans -- is honest and genuine.

  Perhaps if he were human, or a Betazoid, he would throw his arms around her. Perhaps he would tell her how she is his daughter, in every sense of the word, and he cannot imagine a life without her. Perhaps he would speak of his pride of her accomplishments, of his hopes for her future.

  But he is not human, nor Betazoid. He is Vulcan. So he raises his hands, split in a parting, and, for once, humors her. “Goodbye, Aella.”

  She stares at the ground for a moment, then back to him. For a moment, he thinks she will return his goodbye -- but she does not. She turns away, and steps into the shuttle, not even needing to duck her head due to her height.

  He misses her, already, and the door has not even closed. He may never see her again, if it is her wish.

  But he stands there and watches the shuttle, until the door is closed, and it flies away -- until it is only a small speck, perhaps a star, on a horizon quickly growing dark, already awaiting for her to return home.

[empathicstars]

   Shoutout to Flo, for knowing the Truth