A Father’s Lament

By vandiver49

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters associated with Star Trek, I'm just borrowing them for a moment. Please don't sue; people in the Navy don't make that much money.

A/N: My skills have severely atrophied while I’ve been away. I ask not for forgiveness but for constructive criticism.

This story takes place on the other end of “Damage"

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Soval sat quietly in front of the hallowed doors of Starfleet; his wait meandering into its fourth hour. His superior Vulcan hearing could discern nothing from the commotion held within and his vaunted Vulcan patience was wearing terribly thin.

It was in that moment that the doors flew open as several Starfleet officials walked purposely to keep up with one man; Admiral Forrest. He was surrounded by a bevy of conversations, making snap decisions with every step as he proceeded down the corridor. There was one about arming the NX-02, which he knew was still in dry-dock, and yet another about possible evacuation contingencies. “Evacuate! How do you evacuate an entire planet?!” he overheard the Admiral respond to one of his aides. Obviously, the situation was as dire as he assumed.

“Admiral Forrest,” Soval announced, rising from the bench as the entourage made its way towards him. But Forrest failed to acknowledge his presence. Soval called once again, raising his voice slightly, but was met with similar failure.

“ADMIRAL FORREST!!!” he screamed, surprising even himself with his verbal audacity. But it had the desired effect.

“Listen, get hold of General Lewis and the President of the United Nations, I’ll be ready brief them at the top of the hour. This won’t take long,” Forrest instructed as he broke off from the rest of the group. "What do you want?” Forrest questioned bitterly as he approached, the time for professional curiosities long since past.

“I wish to know the status of Enterprise’s mission in the Expanse?” Soval bluntly replied.

“It’s classified. What are you doing here anyway? I thought they evacuated the Vulcan Consulate a month ago?”

“It was. I chose to remain behind.”

“For what? It couldn’t be because you’ve offering Vulcan assistance. That would be far too noble of you. Maybe you’re here to gloat about how you were right about us being too young to explore deep space? Or are you here to lecture us on how we’re reaping what we…”

“No, Admiral,” Soval interrupted, “I am simply here to inquire about the status of Enterprise’s mission, nothing more.”

Forrest eyed the Ambassador narrowly before responding. “Whatever. I have more important thing to do than indulge your curiosity," he said, turning to walk away.

“Admiral, please,” Soval called, attempting to regain his attention, but Forrest continued to walk away. To the casual observer, Soval was the model of composure, but in actually he was teetering on the brink of emotional control. "Do you have any children?” he questioned in desperation, unashamed of the panged frustration that laced his query.

Forrest stopped in his tracks. “Yes, two," was the given response, his back still turned.

“I have but one, Admiral Forrest. A daughter. She is the reason I am here. I know we have had many differences in the past, but today I come to you not as an Ambassador of Vulcan. Simply a father, concerned about his child.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.” Forrest offered as he finally turned around, still stunned by the Vulcan’s admission.

“Why?” Soval asked in confusion. “All that I request is piece of mind. Is the information that sensitive?”

“No, Ambassador,” Forrest started, producing a PADD from beneath his jacket, “it isn’t. I just don’t think it’ll provide you the piece of mind you’re looking for.”

Despite the warning, Soval took the proffered PADD, determined to make his own assessment. He meticulously watched the grainy imagine, exacting as much detail as possible from the brief. He recognized the fair-haired human making the report, the one with the southern accent and fiery temper.

‘Commander Tucker.’ he mulled silently. But his recollection begged an obvious question. ‘If he is making this report, where is my daughter?’

“The Captain attempted…suicide mission to…was unsuccessful. One third of the…killed in action. Trying to regain…and life support. Awaiting orders. Will contact again…24 hours. Tucker out.”

“Thank you,” Soval said handing the PADD back to the Admiral.

“Ambassador, you should leave,” Forrest advised. “The Xindi weapon is probably on its way here as we speak. Return to Vulcan where you’ll be safe.”

“Are you expecting Enterprise’s return?” Soval asked in a tone that could only be described as hopeful.

“Yes, Commander Tucker’s the best engineer in the Fleet. If anyone can raise a ship from the dead, it’s him.”

“Then I shall remain here,” Soval replied, finding his seat again on the now familiar bench, “and await my daughter’s return.”

Forrest stood in quiet regard for several seconds of the Vulcan as he sat there, realizing just how similar they really were. And while he had no idea how to console a Vulcan, there was still something he could do for a father.

“You know, Ambassador; I should be receiving another report from Enterprise in about an hour. If there’s and news about Sub-Commander T’Pol…”

“Thank you, Admiral. Your assistance would be most…appreciated.”

Finis