Post by asd886 on Jun 24, 2014 17:55:21 GMT
i-Baratan tr'Ourius, Tammek
| CAREER AFFILIATION: Romulan Republic 9th Militia Command RANK: Commander POST: Commanding Officer, R.R.W. Jihmn | | PHYSICAL SPECIES: Romulan Male HEIGHT: 1.92 m WEIGHT: 79.8 kg | | DEMOGRAPHIC DATE OF BIRTH: 2306/05/21 PLACE OF BIRTH: Ki Baratan Romulus MARITAL STATUS: Single FAMILY: N/A |
“An Earl Grey tea, if you’d be so kind,”
The bartender, whom gives Tammek a funny look, leaves to fetch the odd drink. The Romulan man takes a moment to look around the lounge. It’s a pleasant day; not too many visitors, not too few. He spots a young couple giggling and flirting off in a corner and smiles faintly, allowing himself to be taken back to a time when he did the same.
“Sir?”
T’laren, his first and only wife. They had married hastily but happily, despite the fact that Tammek was rarely ever home on Romulus in those days. She would always tell Tammek that it was okay. He was doing his duty to his people, she would assure him, by serving the Star Empire’s navy. The love they shared was that of two Romulan hearts, and thus could not be weakened by mere distance. But that’s not to say we didn’t celebrate the time we had when we were together, he thought to himself with a smile.
“Sir.”
And then there was Sen, their son. I was a father, once, Tammek thought. Ahh, yes- those days. The times when he didn’t need to plan exercise and nutrition into his schedule and could go days, weeks, or months without needing to rest his back after working. Shut up, Tammek. Quit bitching, said Sindari’s voice in his head. Tammek chuckles.
“Hey, Romulan!”
Tammek is hurled back to reality at warp speed. He blinks, and looks to the source of the voice. The bartender, after setting a steaming mug of tea in front of him, has extended his upward-facing palm in a decidedly expectant fashion.
“Ahm, apologies.” Tammek fumbles with his jacket pocket and retrieves payment for the drink, setting it in the bartender’s hand. He picks up his tea and sips at it, letting out a sigh of content afterward.
He watches the bartender drop a glass on the floor while attempting to clean it and utter a curse as it shatters on the ground. Tiny shards of glass burst across the floor, the vessel becoming little more than a few larger fragments of its original self. Romulus shattered, Tammek thought to himself. He tries on this fact in his mind. Have I gotten over it? Have I accepted it? He remembers a pet Set’leth he had as a child. In its last hours of its last night, Tammek had refused to go to bed- cradling the cat in his arms as its life slipped away. For hours he cried, but, as the night progressed, the young Tammek eventually became bored with the dying pet. I had cried my bit, and then I was done. There is only so much feeling one can give to a situation, and when that is depleted, that’s that. Perhaps I will never get over the loss of my family and my home, but I have at least stopped crying over it.
“I’m still a father,” Tammek states to himself more than anyone else. He sips is tea with a thoughtfully furrowed brow. The bartender glances at Tammek for a moment, then back to the dish he is wiping clean. “What was that, sir?”
Tammek raises his gaze to look upon the barkeep, “My daughter. She must almost be a grown woman, now. I’ve neglected her. Brushed her aside from my life. There is little more dishonorable for a Romulan to do.”
“Huh.” The bartender exclaims, paying more attention to his cleaning than Tammek’s rambling.
“Do you think I should talk to her? Seek her out after these years?" Tammek sighs, " …No, I’ve made my choice. My duty to my people will come first, and I can’t afford such a distraction. Especially not now.”
The bartender grunts absently, picking up a new dish and wiping it down as well.
Hopefully she can deal with that. Family can't always be there for you. Tammek’s mind was brought to his own parents. They split apart when he was an infant, he doesn’t remember it. He was raised by his father, a cranky old Romulan veteran who loathed his past in the navy almost as much as he loathed Tammek’s choice to pursue the same life. A pity that the old man couldn't see me prove him wrong.
Tammek is disappointed to find that the last sips of his tea were cold. He checks a chronometer. Half an hour? Time moves too quickly for me now. If only he could slow down… of course, he needs to keep burning what time he has left in order to assure the success of the next generation of Romulans. Those whom never felt the breeze of the great oceans of Romulus, felt the grass brush against their feet. They need me, he thought.
Or do I need them?
Tammek isn’t sure. But either way, he’d better get on with it.