New Roots
Posted on 09 Apr 2025 @ 11:13pm by Commander Calliope Zahn
Mission:
M4 - Falling Out
Location: Itonia, Xerne's Family home
1357 words - 2.7 OF Standard Post Measure
Dawn in Itonia was always intense. In the evening, the setting sun would settle behind the Targi-shar mountains, the final degrees of its descent cut off by the peaks. But the star Loki rose from the east, over the low desert plain. The new adobe-and-stone home Xerne had been allotted for his small family came with shutters designed to block Loki’s intense light and maintain the cave-like cool of the evening inside for as long as possible before the brutal midday sun began to bake the reflective coatings on the roof, drawing the temperatures up slightly. In spite of these defenses, Loki’s light still managed to stream through the gaps in the slats, casting laser beam stripes throughout the modest home.
Xerne was already up before everyone else. A long held habit from his days as a landowner, when he and his brother used to rise before the sun on their homeworld in order to direct the managers’ duties on the extensive family property, a heritage in the family for fifteen generations…. But such was no more the case. It had been a heritage which had ended with him and with his older brother. Which Ayalou would only ever have the vaguest of childhood memories, and of which his small son would never recall.
This may as well be home now.
He looked across the family room of the first floor where his brother slept in the living quarters: Norrok, as they had determined to call him now. When they had forged their new identities, Xerne had chosen his brother’s name, and Norrok had chosen his. Bestowing aliases on one another had been part of the pact between them when they had escaped custody by managing to befriend and bribe their keepers. They would remain together. No matter what names they took, which worlds would force them out– one thing would remain, this brotherhood.
Norrok would have merited his own room in place of the bed in the living space, if only he could have managed the stairs. The three black suited, cloaked bounty hunters who had used the attack on Obsidian Command as a cover opportunity had gotten to Norrok before being taken out with deadly force by station security officers. The terrible event still plagued Xerne. He could endure all of this, but he could not take back the terror of his wife and little ones. Neither could he walk for his brother, who remained lame in spite of all the medical care he had received for his severed spine. Perhaps with time. With more intensive care. With complex surgeries.
They were lucky Norrok still lived. It had been, as the doctors had said, touch and go.
They were reluctant to even release him, but Xerne had wanted to follow this new opportunity to try and find a semblance of home, and he wouldn’t be separated from Norrok as long as he still needed them. Norrok had asked every day when he would be discharged. The bedrest had begun to plague him almost as badly as his past imprisonment.
Xerne had installed a privacy curtain around the bed, but Norrok insisted on it remaining open. Not because he didn’t want privacy, Xerne knew, but because Norrok wanted to see who or what might approach at any given time.
Not that Norrok was alert to very much at all right now. Xerne started the small stove, slipping in the compressed fuel pellets and striking a match.After coaxing a fire to life, he set a pot on the top surface and moved to pour the precious well water. As he waited for it to boil, he gazed once more at his brother.
The pile of covers on the bed was too still at first, but Xerne waited a heartbeat until the faintest movement assured him his brother was still breathing.
Relieved, Xerne exhaled too.
With the water boiling, Xerne poured it over the ground Kabrav root his wife had traded between her new herbalist friends. He still wasn’t accustomed to this new brew, but it was more the ritual of beginning with a hot drink that mattered. Besides, this herb would support his liver function… or so he was told. He wasn’t clear if such claims translated from El Aurian biology to his Romulan physiology.
His brother rolled over as the scent of the morning brew reached him on the other side of the room. He grunted. “Always smells better than it tastes.”
“Do you not want a cup?”
Shaking his head, Norrok pulled himself up to sitting with his arms and then motioned towards himself for his brother to give him the damned drink. Xerne passed him the cup, carefully holding it stable to be sure Norrock had a grip on it before letting go.
“Elara promised to plant some of her own j’hanna beans. She somehow managed to keep a sack of planting seed, resisting the temptation to roast it and never mentioning the treasure to a soul.”
Norrock looked dubious. “Oh? How is it you heard of this secret?”
“The channels she is having excavated are in the traditional pattern.” Xerne motioned at angles, knowing that Norrock would know exactly what he was drawing in the air. They had planted such fields themselves. “It’s obvious for anyone to see what she’s planning.”
“Good.” Norrock coughed around the first hit of the alien flavor. “Then we only have ten years or so to wait for a regular harvest.”
Xerne grimaced wryly over the lip of his mug as he lifted it. “I can practically taste it.” By then, he knew, they were more likely to have adapted to the native plant.
“So, what is today’s plan?” Norrock asked, rubbing his face. Any time they had managed to come together, the brothers had begun the day with a review of the last and an outlook for the next. Even without work crews and property managers at hand to update, the tradition between them held. It had remained part of how they had coped in the make-shift prison during their internment. Most of the time the daily gesture between the two of them had seemed a futile grasping at normalcy. But it had meant that they were able to take the opportunities when they had presented themselves. Opportunities that had finally led them both here.
Xerne took a moment to pour out his own cup from the tin steeping pot. “I will assist Mizia in opening the stall. The erihb bulbs should be ready for packing. I will crate them. There is an independent merchant, a human, who has offered me an agreeable wholesale price, but I must accompany a gathering party on the north cliffs.” He did not trust Ayalou by the steep sides, and her mother would be otherwise occupied. The company of mostly women with their little ones would need strong arms to lift the bundles, of which he could lend his own. “I will send a missive to the merchant and reschedule our exchange.”
Norrock found it irritating that his brother took everything upon himself. “That’s unnecessary. I will go and meet with him.”
Xerne didn’t immediately respond. His first instinct was to tell his brother he must rest. But for the first time since moving into the settlement, Xerne thought better of rebuffing Norrock’s offer. This was, after all, his home and his family business as well. It might do him good to participate. “I will ask him to meet you at the market stall while we are away this afternoon.”
Norrock nodded abruptly, hiding his surprise at Xerne’s agreement.
“You will need help making the walk to the market square.”
In his long hours in bed Norrock had already considered how he might find assistance in getting around town. He did not wish to trouble his younger brother with the arrangements. “Leave it to me, Vir–” He caught himself. “... Xerne.”
Xerne frowned but he did not scold. They already knew what was at stake with such slips of tongue.
It needed no repeating.
