Ensign Meris: Roots in White Stone

[Meris/Brian]

((Capital Spaceport, Wendaii, J'naii))

 

The landing field outside Wendaii’s capital spaceport shimmered beneath a pale afternoon sun. White stone buildings rose in sweeping, uniform curves, their surfaces polished to a near-matte sheen. Everything was orderly. Measured. Designed to blend rather than stand apart. The air smelled faintly mineral, tinged with ozone from arriving vessels and, beneath it all, the distant salt carried in from the coast.

 

The USS Jörð settled onto the landing pad with a soft, even hum.

 

Meris powered down the runabout and lingered at the controls, listening as the systems wound themselves to rest. It had been a long journey home, but they had finally arrived. They wore civilian clothes, deliberately chosen. Familiar lines. Muted tones. Clothing that mirrored the crowd rather than challenged it.

 

As much as they loved their uniform, here it would draw attention.

 

oO This is not hiding. This is courtesy. Oo

 

They unstrapped the African Violet from the co-pilot’s seat and lifted the carrier carefully.

 

Meris: Come along, Olive.

 

The plant’s leaves pressed gently against the casing that cradled them, untroubled by the transition from starship to homeworld.

 

Meris completed the shutdown checklist, secured the Arrow-class runabout, and disembarked.

 

The arrivals concourse was busy but subdued. Voices remained low. Movement was efficient. A few people glanced at them oddly as they passed, eyes lingering on the plant. Meris was accustomed to strange looks. Information panels glowed softly overhead, listing arrivals in precise, identical fonts. Travelers passed one another without lingering, each moving with practiced purpose.

 

Then Meris saw Zereth.

 

They stood near the edge of the concourse, posture straight but no longer effortless. What hair remained atop their head had gone noticeably silver, more than Meris remembered, and the lines around their eyes and mouth had deepened. There was a tiredness to them, not fragile, but persistent, as though rest had become something postponed rather than neglected.

 

Meris slowed as they approached, adjusting their grip on the plant carrier.

 

oO I do not remember them looking so old. Oo

 

Meris: Zereth.

 

Their parent turned, eyes taking in Meris with a careful, evaluative sweep. Their clothes. Their face. Their... plant. Their expression remained neutral.

 

Zereth: You arrived on schedule.

 

Meris: The journey was smooth. I plotted an efficient course.

 

Zereth nodded once, a small note of approval.

 

Zereth: You look well. Taller.

 

The corner of Meris’ mouth twitched upward, warmth briefly blooming in their chest.

 

Meris: I’ve had meaningful assignments. I served first aboard the USS Artemis. We encountered the Boraxian people. Their social structure is fascinating. Matriarchal, with a religious servant class. The servants were seeking asylum from the Federation.

 

Zereth hummed thoughtfully as they walked alongside Meris toward the exit.

 

Meris: Later, I was assigned to the USS Thor. We encountered a previously unknown radiological lifeform in the VX-LON system. Their native environment existed within subspace. We observed what I believe were multiple developmental stages of their species. It was remarkable.

 

Zereth slowed slightly.

 

Zereth: Radiological?

 

Meris nodded eagerly. Zereth was a scientist, and Meris had hoped the existence of radiological lifeforms might catch their interest.

 

Meris: Yes. They were initially detected as ultraviolet radiation spikes appearing seemingly at random in normal space. We later traced them to a fissure between normal space and subspace. Observation required extreme care. There were both positively charged and negatively charged entities, and they appeared to be engaged in some form of conflict with each other.

 

Zereth considered that.

 

Zereth: Interesting.

 

Meris felt a brief, hopeful lift.

 

oO They are listening. They are interested. Oo

 

Zereth resumed walking.

 

Zereth: You should tell Seral about this. They have been very busy at the Science Center.

 

The lift faded gently.

 

Zereth: They were recently appointed head of a department. The Center has taken notice of their work. There is talk of broader recognition. They have surpassed my own accomplishments there, and at such a young age...

 

Meris inclined their head.

 

Meris: I’m glad for them. Their achievement betters us as a whole.

 

The words came easily, well-practiced.

 

Zereth: They’ve been provided housing near the central research district. Can you image that? An apartment with a view that reaches all the way to the coast. Terrell and I had dinner there just the other day. The building even employs a chef, so important people like Seral do not waste time on mundane chores like cooking. They never provided me with such housing.

 

Meris adjusted the plant carrier.

 

oO I would have liked to tell you more about my missions aboard the Artemis and the Thor. Oo

 

Zereth gestured ahead.

 

Zereth: Come. Terrell is preparing the evening meal.

 

((Family Residence, Wendaii))

 

The family home stood along a quiet avenue lined with nearly identical residences, each distinguished only by subtle variations in stone texture and entryway lighting. Inside, warmth greeted them. The scent of roasted grains and spices hung in the air, comforting and familiar.

 

Terrell emerged from the interior hall before the front door had fully closed.

 

They had aged as well, but more gently. Their hair was threaded with silver rather than overtaken by it. Their posture remained lively, their movements quick. Fine smile lines framed their mouth, deepened by years of expression rather than worry.

 

Terrell: Meris!

 

They crossed the room in a few quick steps and wrapped Meris in a firm embrace.

 

Terrell: You’re thin. You are absolutely thinner than you were the last time you visited. Are you eating properly? Are they feeding you on that starship?

 

The corner of Meris’ mouth curled upward as they adjusted the plant at their side.

 

Meris: I am eating. Starfleet meals are well-balanced.

 

Terrell pulled back, hands still gripping Meris’ arms.

 

Terrell: Balanced is not reassuring. And the Gamma Quadrant... honestly, Starfleet has no business sending my child that far away.

 

Zereth exhaled quietly.

 

Zereth: You forget that they volunteered.

 

Terrell: That only makes it worse.

 

Their parent’s gaze finally dropped to the carrier they balanced at their hip.

 

Terrell: What have you brought?

 

Meris lifted it slightly.

 

Meris: It is an African Violet. A gift from one of my crewmates.

 

Zereth frowned openly.

 

Zereth: Plants are a waste of time.

 

Terrell leaned closer, peering at the blossoms.

 

Terrell: It’s a lovely plant.

 

They glanced up at Meris, puzzled but fond.

 

Terrell: Does it... do anything?

 

The pilot looked at the plant.

 

oO It is a good listener. Oo

 

Meris: So far, no.

 

Their parent seemed to shake it off as a small matter.

 

Terrell: Well, I see you traveled across the galaxy without luggage... but you brought a plant?

 

Meris: It was important. ::a pause:: There was a replicator on the runabout. I replicated what clothing I needed.

 

Zereth made a quiet sound of disapproval.

 

Zereth: Inefficient use of resources.

 

Terrell shook their head gently, their tone warm rather than critical.

 

Terrell: You have always been my unusual child.

 

Dinner unfolded with familiar rhythms. Terrell asked questions and listened intently. Zereth redirected conversation often, filling the space with updates about Seral. Meris listened, respectful, quietly aching.

 

Later, Terrell guided Meris down the corridor toward their old room.

 

((Meris’ Childhood Room))

 

Nothing had changed. Their bed lined one wall. A desk occupied the other. Their art easel remained set up near the window, where they had once watched and painted shuttles launching from the distant spaceport.

 

Terrell set the African Violet carefully on the windowsill, adjusting it so the leaves caught the ambient city light.

 

Terrell: Tomorrow I’ll show you the lecture hall. It’s not the largest, and it isn't in the main building, but it’s been set aside just for you. Posters are everywhere. Students will come. I've heard some of them talking about the 'visit from the astralnaut' I believe they called it. I suppose, that’s you… my Astralnaut.

 

Meris nodded, excitement carefully contained.

 

oO Do not hope too loudly. Oo

 

Their thoughts drifted to Zereth’s earlier admonishment, spoken years ago when Meris had first proposed their Starfleet arrangement.

 

oO Who would want to learn such things? Oo

 

Terrell tucked them into their childhood bed with practiced ease, smoothing the covers, cupping their cheek, and pressing a kiss to their forehead ridges.

 

Terrell: I’m glad you’re home. We are proud of you. You’re keeping your promise.

 

They lingered a moment, then quietly left.

 

Meris lay awake, staring at the ceiling, the African Violet silhouetted against the glow of Wendaii beyond the window.

 

Silently, Olive soaked in the view of this strange new world.

 

Tomorrow would matter. They would finally begin to fulfill their birth role as an educator of the J'naii people.

 

And for now, that was enough.

 

---

Ensign Meris

Helmsperson

USS Thor

A240207M14