DISCLAIMER: The Star Trek characters are the property of Paramount Studios, Inc. The story contents are the creation and property of T'Sia and is copyright (c) 2003 by T'Sia.
His Father's Son
The shuttle glided soundlessly through the emptiness of space. Streaks of light, caused by warp speed passed by the windows, glistening warmly, almost comfortingly rather than to be a physical phenomenon. But there was no warmth in space, neither was there comfort. Only refuge.
While the young Vulcan stared out of the window his eyes focused and settled on his own reflection in the transparent material. Recognition set in when his features slowly aged. When the transformation was completed his features had fused into the face of his father. Only his eyes remained the same. His own eyes, no, that of his father stared back at him, the infinity of space behind them serving as the perfect imitation of the real man's gaze.
Dazed by the vivid illusion his mind created, he closed his eyes, trying to escape the resembling image. But the face remained, while his mind replayed his departure at the spaceport.
He fell into the past and again he felt the pull to retrace his steps from the gateway and return to the woman at the entry, to ease the pain he caused her. Delicate and fragile she seemed while she hugged herself in her wide flowing robes. Nevertheless her eyes held a warm expression and she smiled bravely at him. He made two steps more to the shuttle. Again he turned around. An unguarded expression flittered over the woman's face before she could control it and her blue eyes glistened with tears.
'Mother', he thought as guilt about the pain he caused her engulfed him. He started to make a move to retreat from the gateway but froze before his body had set in motion. He opened his eyes but the picture remained and like before in the spaceport he locked gazes with his father who had suddenly appeared behind his mother. The gaze of the older man held no emotion, neither encouragement, nor blame. It was as void as space. He remembered how he had torn his gaze away from the piercing stare with difficulty to exchange a last meaningful glance with his mother.
Slowly her image dissolved until the vibrant blue of her eyes blended together with the soft bluish glow of Earth's atmosphere.
With a start the young Vulcan realized that the shuttle had reached its destination. The craft descended through a thick blanket of clouds until the sun disappeared when they broke free underneath and semidarkness swallowed the shuttle. Heavy rain fell down on the small craft and it shook slightly in the heavy winds. Streaks of water ran across the windows now, presenting the most amazing sight to the desert born youth. He watched the liquid run from one side of the window to the other and the unordered water patterns diverted his attention away from his inner pain momentarily.
The shuttle landed outside of the great hangars and the passengers hurried over to the gate which connected to the inner center of the spaceport. Only one lonely young man took slow, measured steps towards the buildings, the small travel bag he carried slung loosely over his shoulder. Rain poured down on him and he stopped to stare into the darkened, cloud covered sky. Raindrops fell into his face and his wide opened eyes. The water felt like tiny ice needles on his skin but he continued to stare into the sky. Finally he sighed; the clouds eliminated any chances for casting a last look on the sun of his home world before he faced his new life. He entered the spaceport building and took his place as the last one in a line of newcomers waiting for their papers to be acknowledged. He took in his surroundings and caught his image in the mirror covered walls of the passage. Droplets of water still flowed down his cheeks and dripped from his dark hair and lashes. Again his features vanished and were replaced by the image of another who stared back at him with his own eyes. He blinked and the image of the older man disappeared. Only realization remained. Regardless of how much he changed and how far he ran he could never escape that which he was. His father's son. And for the first time in his life he wondered whether he was running from another or from that which he saw in his eyes, himself.