Ensign Meris: Visible
Meris/Brian
OOC: This is the final post in Meris’ visit to J’naii. Following this, they are back on the Thor.
((Family Residence, Wendaii, Midday))
Meris did not remember walking home.
They remembered the door closing. There had been sound emanating from Zereth's study at the far end of the home, but Meris paid it no mind. They remembered climbing the familiar stairs. They remembered Olive’s carrier bumping gently against their hip with each step, leaves rustling softly like a quiet question that went unanswered.
Their childhood room welcomed Meris with stillness. Pale walls. The faint scent of old paper and stone warmed by sunlight. The window stood open just enough to let in air from the coast, carrying salt and flowering trees and the distant hush of traffic moving in patient lines far below. The breeze rustled the papers on their standing easel beside the window ever so slightly.
Meris set Olive on the windowsill.
The African Violet seemed pleased with the arrangement, leaves spreading subtly as the light angled across them.
Meris sank onto the edge of the bed.
oO I waited my whole life for this… disappointment. Oo
They crumpled fully onto the mattress, landing in a heap amidst the sheets.
The light shifted slowly as the afternoon wore on. The bright white glow of Wendaii softened into gold, then pale amber. Meris watched it creep along the floor and climb the opposite wall but did not move. They knew the end of the working day was approaching.
They had not shed a tear despite feeling like there were rivers waiting behind their eyes.
Olive remained present, steady, absorbing the light with quiet dedication. If there was a lesson in that, Meris was not ready to learn it.
((Family Residence, Later))
The front door opened with a familiar sound. Soft. Controlled. No one on J’naii would ever slam a door. The house filled with the scent of the street, cool air, stone dust, and the faint trace of grain from nearby homes where the evening meal was being prepared.
Footsteps approached their door.
Terrell appeared in the doorway, bag slung over their shoulder, expression confused and concerned all at once.
Olive rustled faintly in greeting.
Terrell: Meris? Are you here?
The pilot nodded without looking up.
Terrell stepped into the room and glanced briefly toward the window.
Terrell: I thought you would stay at least until lunch. I thought we might take the midday meal together downtown.
Meris swallowed and shrugged, still lying on the bed.
Terrell hesitated, then tried to change the subject.
Terrell: I heard your lecture went well. That it ended early?
The words landed awkwardly, like a chair placed just a little too close.
Meris looked up. It seemed the lie they had told the instructor for the following period had now become the official story.
Meris: No one came.
Terrell blinked.
Terrell: What do you mean?
Meris made a broad, all-encompassing windmill motion with their arms. It was the most they’d moved in hours.
Meris: No one came. Not one student. No one attended my lecture.
Terrell frowned, clearly struggling with the idea.
Terrell: But the students seemed interested. They asked me questions. They helped name the visit.
With effort, Meris sat up, hands curling tightly in their lap.
Meris: They were curious in theory. Apparently that was sufficient. I was foolish to think they would want to learn about the galaxy beyond J'naii.
Olive’s leaves drooped just slightly, as though reconsidering the waning light.
Terrell: I am so sorry, child...
Terrell moved to sit beside Meris and wrapped an arm around their shoulder.
Meris’ voice shook despite their effort.
Meris: What hurt most was that neither of you came.
Terrell inhaled slowly.
Terrell: I had classes. I told you that. I could not abandon my students.
Meris nodded slowly.
Meris: I understand that.
They paused.
Meris: But Zereth did not come either.
Terrell’s expression softened into something heavier.
Terrell: Zereth has been having a difficult time lately.
Meris frowned, looking up.
Meris: Why? ::a pause:: They never said anything. They spoke only of Seral’s success when we walked from the starport.
Terrell nodded.
Terrell: Zereth told you Seral was appointed head of a department?
Meris nodded again, unsure why this mattered.
Terrell: It was Zereth's department that Seral was appointed to lead. Seral replaced them as head of the department.
The words settled slowly.
Meris’ breath caught.
Terrell: Zereth has been forcibly retired. Society has decided their work is complete. The child has eclipsed the parent.
Meris looked toward Olive.
oO They did not just surpass them. They ended them. Oo
Understanding bloomed painfully.
Meris: I thought replacement was meant to be symbolic. I did not realize it would be so literal.
Terrell nodded.
Terrell: It often is gradual. It is unusual for a child as young as Seral to replace their parent. But Seral’s accomplishments were deemed significant enough that the Center decided Zereth had nothing further to impart. Others will take over guiding Seral’s growth forward from here. Zereth was not ready for that conclusion.
Meris closed their eyes.
Meris: I am sorry. They did not tell me.
Terrell placed a hand over theirs.
Terrell: They did not know how to. ::a pause:: Next time you teach, it will go better. You will have more experience. Perhaps a higher rank. Students listen differently to those with tenure.
Meris snorted softly.
Meris: I am an Ensign. You act as though I will become a legend.
Terrell smiled faintly.
Terrell: Was Captain Pike not once an Ensign too? Or Fleet Captain MacKenzie? Legends must begin somewhere.
Meris shook their head.
Meris: I will not do this again. Sitting alone. Waiting. Pretending it does not hurt.
Terrell’s expression tightened and moved to look their child in the eye.
Terrell: You promised.
The word lingered between them.
Terrell: Your path is to educate. Even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.
They hesitated.
Terrell: One day, I hope to feel the pain Zereth feels now. To be replaced by you. It would mean you succeeded. In that moment, I will be very proud. As Zereth is now, even if his pride is a little wounded.
Meris looked away.
Meris: I do not want to be someone’s ending.
Terrell: Zereth is not dead. They are retired. Their life will find new meaning. As will mine, when that day comes.
After a long moment, Meris spoke.
Meris: I will consider it. Someday.
Terrell smiled, relieved enough to accept that.
Olive leaned subtly toward them both, as if offering approval.
((Family Residence, Wendaii, the Next Morning))
Morning came quietly.
The light returned, pale and steady. The house smelled of warm grains and brewed root tea. Olive greeted the day with renewed enthusiasm, leaves angled perfectly toward the window.
Meris dressed carefully.
The red uniform again. Smooth. Bright. Unapologetic.
They carried Olive downstairs.
((Family Residence, Kitchen))
The kitchen routine repeated itself. Terrell stirred. Zereth read. Sunrise oats steamed gently, filling the air with sweetness and comfort.
Zereth glanced up as Meris entered.
Zereth: You are wearing that again.
Meris nodded, placing Olive carefully at the center of the table this time.
Zereth: But you have no lecture today.
Meris: This is my uniform. I am a Starfleet officer. I earned the right to wear it. ::a pause:: Anywhere. Everywhere.
The corner of Terrell’s mouth twitched upward as they placed a bowl in front of Meris.
Terrell: Indeed. You look quite handsome in it.
Zereth made a small, noncommittal sound and returned to the news displayed on his device.
Meris tasted the oats. Warm. Familiar. Steady.
Olive presided over the table, dignified and observant.
Zereth: I will accompany you to the starport.
Meris looked up, surprised.
Meris: You will?
Zereth inclined their head.
Zereth: Is there a reason I should not? I have some time this morning.
Terrell smiled, a little wistfully.
Terrell: I wish I could come. Perhaps next time you can arrive at the end of the week. We could have more time together.
Meris hesitated.
Terrell: I might even be willing to go flying with you.
The pilot’s eyes widened.
Meris: Truly?
Terrell nodded.
Zereth considered.
Zereth: I suppose it would be... educational to fly around the city in one of those things.
Olive’s leaves rustled, clearly in favor of the idea.
((Wendaii Streets))
Parent and child stepped into the morning together as they left the family residence.
Sunlight glinted off white stone. The city smelled of clean air, flowering trees, and fresh bread from vendors beginning their day. People flowed around them, orderly and calm as the duo made their way to the starport. More than a few glances lingered on Meris’ red Starfleet uniform.
Meris walked tall.
No cloak.
Uniform bright.
Visible.
They adjusted Olive’s carrier and followed Zereth, heart lighter than it had been the day before.
Someday they would return. They would fulfill their promise. They would educate generations of J'naii.
But for now, this was enough.
---
Ensign Meris
Helmsperson
USS Thor
A240207M14