Dark, green circles marred the undersides of V’alura’s once bright blue eyes. Her cheeks and temples slightly sunken, marking the weight she’s lost. Auburn hair, once kept perfectly curled and coiled, lay limp and dull. V’alura frowned at every imperfection captured by her little hand mirror. In her mind she cataloged everything left to do before she boarded the USS Owaga, her weariness expanding with each new listed item. Come now V’alura, she thought, You can’t meet your half-brother looking like death itself. They were finally going to meet in person and she could not, would not give him any less then her very best.

The show must go on and you are a professional. V’alura sucked in a deep steadying breath, that collapsed into a coughing fit. The nurse sitting beside her jumped into action and injected V’alura with a hypo while pressing a bronchodilator into her hands. V’alura breathed in, rough and unsteady until the coughing fit subsided. Her shoulders trembled. Weakness seeped into her muscles. V’alura gritted through the haze and picked up her hair curler sitting beside her travel bag of make-up. There was work to do.

It took hours battling her weakness, coughing fits and fatigue. Until finally the woman who looked back from the mirror resembled the woman that she was before. A proud woman who always looked her best and poured her heart into her work and her team. V’alura flashed her mirror a smile, not the dazzler she used to pull from her pocket like a stick of gum. But it would be enough. And just in time. Not twenty minutes later a page came over sickbay’s intercom. =^=Helm to Sickbay. Five minutes till we reach transporter distance to the Owaga.=^=

V’alura stood on shaky legs with her nurse’s assistance and the two walked arm in arm to the transport pads. She refused transport directly from sickbay to the Owaga and she was not shy to claim pride for that choice. It was that pride that pushed her to focus and take each step with confidence and grace. Dressed in a pale pink cropped blazer knotted together in the front, matching pink slacks, and a thick gold chain draped across her collar bone to make an impression. Between the hair, make-up and clothes V’alura looked like she walked off a photo shoot than out of a sickbay. Last but not least, she reminded herself as she stepped onto the transport pad, remember to smile for the camera.

White enveloped her vision and in a flash she materialized aboard the Owaga alongside her nurse and an NE helping to tote her personal luggage. On top of which were two seemingly empty terrariums. V’alura took a quiet, shallow breath (least she trigger another coughing fit) and closed her eyes. In her mind’s eye she prepared the expression she will wear, choreographed her movements and prepared her lines. She will give Solal the true V’alura the friend and sister experience. There was no illness in the world that could stop her.

V’alura Belmont

Solal spent long hours pacing his quarters when he received the letter which said she was placing herself on medical leave and coming aboard the Ogawa. He had been writing her for months now, but that kept the concept of her as a sister vague, abstract. In practice, he still did not know what to think about the whole situation. Solal had never wanted to know anything about his bio family. Yet V’alura had always been nothing but nice. He still used the Paris program she had sent all the time. And Solal, though he would not admit it to himself, had always struggled with loneliness.

The reason for her arrival was less than pleasant: they had both fallen ill. Given the similarity of the symptoms and the closeness of the times of onset, it was logical to treat them both in one place. But that still meant she would be here, with him, for the foreseeable future. Still he put on a logical mask, like he always did, purging the unwelcome emotions and focusing instead on the logical reasons.

In the end, he had messaged his parents, explaining what had happened in these last months, and asking their opinion and advice. Predictably, they had told him to treat her like a sister, and that she was always welcome to come visit home with him, along with an aside about how he had yet to take leave to visit home. Like he knew how to treat one “like a sister”. He’d never had, nor had he wanted, a sibling. Of course, regardless of the feelings that he didn’t have, he had promised up down left and right that V’alura would feel welcomed and most… ehhm… sisterly.

In the meantime, Solal had been dealing with catastrophes in his own work life. The fatigue had made it difficult to get out of bed. Sometimes he wouldn’t make it an entire duty shift before falling asleep at his desk, and ultimately being made to leave early. The dizziness and shortness of breath made carrying out his duties difficult, and unfortunately, much like V’alura, the Ogawa’s doctors had yet to find an answer. He had been pulled off paient care due to the same recurrent respiratory infections that plagued V’alura. After all, no one wanted a sick doctor. And as an immunologist, he could not risk spreading flu, cold, or an assortment of other illnesses, to his patients, many of which had compromised immune systems and may not be able to fight off such infections.

More recently, he had also been placed on medical leave, not of his own choice. But seeing as V’alura was coming for the same reason, and he was too sick to efficiently do his duties, it made logical sense. He still didn’t agree. More of those pesky emotions he didn’t have.

Being on medical leave meant Solal had more than enough time to make it to the transporter room to which V’alura was slated to arrive, and wait in order to welcome her. Ten minutes before her boarding, he stood in the transporter room, leaned against one wall. He looked tired, dark circles trailing under both eyes, his skin so pale he could pass for Human if it weren’t for those pointed ears of his. The most recent in his long line of respiratory infections, a flu he had picked up undoubtedly from the ship’s patient population , left him exhausted, with a fever that flushed his cheeks slightly green, muscle aches that made moving unpleasant, and a cough much like V’alura’s. All the 23rd century Robitussen and Theraflu on the Ogawa couldn’t make him feel better, though the medicine did lessen his symptoms.

When the transporter sprung to life, Solal quashed a feeling of nervous anticipation. Logical, Solal. You are logical. She is no different than any other colleague. He stood straight up, no longer leaning against the wall, in greeting mode. There was a flash of light as the transporter materialized the woman Solal recognized from their correspondance as V’alura, a nurse, and an unrelated NE lugging several bags of luggage. In lightly French accented English and formally as all get out, “Welcome to the USS Ogawa, Lieutenant. I am Lieutenant Solal.” He had written her, not excitedly because as a logical Vulcan he did not react to emotions like excitement, when he had been promoted. That was several weeks ago now.

~ Solal

V’alura opened her eyes and smiled. Not a dazzler full of charm and beauty, but something small and undeniably warm. “Must we be so formal?” She asked, teasingly as she stepped off the platform. A brief wave of dizziness caused her next step to falter but she seemed to right herself and carry on as though nothing was wrong. She paused before him, taking in his face and posture. It almost didn’t feel real, to finally stand before him in person. V’alura wondered if he felt the same. “I am here on medical leave,” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her tone entirely carefree and light. “But I’m happy you came to see me arrive.”

Solal shrugged absently, almost awkwardly. She was dizzy. Was she okay? She looked awful. He knew not to say that aloud. It was strange to see her in person, he almost expected her not to respond, as if she were simply a part of one of those programs of hers. But no, she was really, truly here. “I am sorry you are here for such an unpleasant reason.”

She clasped her hands together, least she do something Solal would deem unnecessary and emotional. Especially since she felt very emotional in that moment. Her mask remained in place, but inside she felt like a rainbow of emotions. Fear and uncertainty lingered beneath warmth, joy and disbelief. V’alura never told her mother about Solal and part of her felt guilty for that. It was the right choice. V’alura couldn’t bring that to her poor mother, who was so hurt, so scorned by her Vulcan father that his very mention dredged up terrible, emotional pain. Maybe one day V’alura could tell her mother about her wonderful and smart half-brother who grew up in France and plays the violin.

Like Solal she was an only child, but to say that she never wanted a little sibling would be a big fat lie. Over the years V’alura had many close friends and her wonderful human family but there was something special about being a big sister.

“Congratulations once again on your promotion,” She had already congratulated him before, in writing, but she wanted to say it again now in person. “And it’s not too late to have a proper celebration for your achievement.” V’alura doubted Solal did anything to celebrate his accomplishments. She’ll have to make up for all the lost time. “And though I’d love for a grand tour, I don’t think I have quite that much energy left in me. Not without a power nap or two. Is there a room for me somewhere? I’d. . . rather avoid sickbay if possible.”

V’alura

Solal nodded once. “Thank you. It was unexpected.” He looked at her with a slightly awkward look, but also like she’d grown two heads. “There was a celebration at the promotion event. Our captain… I believe she loves a party.” There was a hint of… Something like scorn in his voice. He did not like parties.

V’alura couldn’t help but laugh, Solal’s distaste palpable to her. V’alura loved parties, especially when she was the the person who planned and threw them. Perhaps she and the captain will get along swimmingly. “So no party celebrating the doctors curing us?”

Solal, not realizing she might be joking, hesitated momentarily and then shrugged. “If you would like a celebration for that, you are free to have one.” And if she asked him to attend it, he would. He might even try to drag Lt Cmdr Bonner, too, she hated parties as much as he did.

“I was joking but now that I’m thinking about it maybe we should.” Though she spoke with a serious tone, there was humor in her eyes and smile.

Stood next to each other, their familial resemblance was clear. The same pointed ears, the same general build and facial structure, similar heights. Besides the difference in skin tone, it was absolutely believable they were related. A fact not missed by Solal.

Nor by V’alura. She recognized the features that they shared, and where they differed. Could see how she could pass as human with the right hairstyle and make-up while he would have a more difficult time. Though her skin was darker thanks to her mother of African heritage, they possessed the same green tint and flush of Vulcan blood. Half-human, half-vulcan and half-siblings.

He pointed out towards the hallway. “I will walk with you. I volunteered to take care of your boarding tour. You will be boarded on the recovery floor… Deck six. They are full quarters. You will be most comfortable. I am housed in the crew quarters, but I always answer a page, so if you need anything, please do not hesitate.” His delivery was most Vulcan, but it was considerably more than he’d do for someone else. He never, ever, gave boarding tours. He answered pages… For emergencies. “And… I’m on medical leave, too, now.” That was a recent change, “So I will be available any time.” Solal hated having so much free time.

~ Solal

For a moment V’alura’s mask slipped. Concern, subtly, gently showing within her eyes. Even Solal was put on leave. This strange illness may have brought them together, but that came at an unfortunate price. That thought was the crack that broke the dam. Her hands trembled. “Oh, Solal. . .” V’alura said and she couldn’t hold back anymore. She opened her arms and pulled him into a tight hug. Mindful of her hands, V’alura gently squeezed him, her mental barriers as high as she could build. “We’ll get through this, together, I promise. What kind of big sister would I be if didn’t keep your company? Especially with all this free time we’ve suddenly found ourselves with.”

Solal was suddenly held in a tight embrace, squeezed in V’alura’s arms. He stood there awkwardly, and then cautiously returned the gesture, his arms loosely around her like he wasn’t sure what to do. He fell back on what was comfortable: “Logically, we must be fine. Ogawa has excellent patient recovery statistics.”

After one last and quick squeeze she released him, “Sorry. I couldn’t help myself. I hope you could forgive me for one display of emotion. I am a sick patient after all.” Was it wrong to play the patient card when V’alura knew she was going to be one of those patients? Yes, but she didn’t have the energy to feel guilty that moment. “How about that boarding tour? At least show me where the lounge is?”

V’alura

When she released him it became apparent he was suffering the same dizziness she was as he had to steady himself. He distracted from that fact by saying, “You have displayed emotions non stop since arriving. It is expected.” What he didn’t say and wouldn’t admit was that he kind of liked the concern that haunted her gaze, the warmth of her hug. He nodded. “Let me show you to your room first, so your helper may drop off your bags. Then I will show you the lounge.”

~ Solal

Without thinking V’alura reached out to steady Solal, and held on until he seemed to regain his balance. She smiled, hoping to cover up any awkwardness with some humor, “Oh good!” She laughed, “My emotional subroutine is working as intended. The virus infecting my system hasn’t spread too far then.” Oh, her scientists back on the AA would have loved that one. They always laughed or groaned at her dumb jokes. . . V’alura wondered how everyone was doing. If the notes she left behind detailing the work she left unfinished or incomplete. There were so many move parts to the life of a CSO and V’alura took on far more work than most usually do.

“But yes, that sounds good to me. I want to get my ladies settled in before all this moving stresses them out too much.” She glanced back at the two terrariums securely settled to the top of her rolling luggage. Both her ladies darted into the safety of their burrows when she moved them from their homes into these (smaller but portable) homes. They’ve yet to step out and V’alura hoped they weren’t hunkering down within for the foreseeable future. It would be a great comfort to her to see them. Perhaps when she feeds them later they’ll feel more secure.

V’alura