Homecoming

Posted on 13 Apr 2021 @ 1:26pm by Commander Kristiana Petrova & Lieutenant Callisi Veera

1,698 words; about a 8 minute read

Mission: Home
Location: Russia, Earth

Kris was silent as she piloted the shuttle the short hop to her family's farm. Soon enough it came into view, one main building, single floor, with several by-buildings - a barn or two, a guest house, a few storage huts. Nearby were several fields, fenced in but vacant - farm animals would've lived here, years ago when the farm had been active. The complex was situated partially surrounded by a dark, old forest. As Kristiana piloted the shuttle to a parking spot to land they'd notice that the farm was generally in good repair, but the windows were boarded up.

Callisi was quiet as she let Kris work through this. Her presence here was the absolute least she could do, but words would fail in this regard. Kris didn't need her wisdoms, her teachings, or the philosophy of a race. She needed a friend, and Callisi could certainly try to be that for her. She looked out over the wide expanse of the land before them, thinking of where various crops and fields, various animals and herds... thinking of where the farm would go, equating it to the concept of the farm as she knew it. She imagined it was quite similar.

"Looks to be in decent shape." Callisi commented after they stepped out of the shuttle.

"Sure does," Kris replied, not wasting time but heading straight for her family home. "It's been only a few years though, I mean, what could happen to an abandoned house in a few years," she offered half-heartedly. As they neared the house though it proved not just to be in good repair, but near peak shape. Even the paint was mostly intact.

The greatest invention of any thinking species was the concept of a rhetorical question. Callisi opted not to comment on the multitude of answers, purely because of that universal concept. Something seemed off, though. The homestead was in too good of a condition to be without a steward for ... a few years.

That caused the Daughter of Ts'usu to go from optimistic for Kris' sake... to suspicious. Defensive. Cautious, even.

Kris was lost in similar thoughts of the cautious kind, right up until she neared the actual homestead and was stopped by a force field. As it shimmered upon being touched a voice rang out - in Russian Callisi could tell, though the universal translator made quick work of it.

"Please identify," a the computerized voice asked.

"Kristiana Petrova," Kris replied, brows furrowed.

"Identity accepted. Access granted," came the reply, the shimmering disappearing as the force field powered down.

"Well, that's - ... interesting," Kris mused, raising a brow at the events. It did explain why the place looked intact though. But now she had other questions. Questions that would only be answered by proceeding inside, which she did.

"Interesting is a word for it." Callisi commented, still a bit tense. A cute coiled spring, essentially. She followed Kristiana's lead, reaching forward ever so slightly to make sure that the containment field was down for both of them, not just for expected guests.

Once inside they found darkness, the only light being that from the open door behind them. That problem easily solved though by Kristiana pressing the lightswitch to illuminate a surprisingly well kept interior that looked remarkably un-pillaged. A thin layer of dust on everything, but that was to be expected. The interior design was rustic, with a large display screen and media center against one wall, a seating arrangement opposite it, a kitchen area towards the back, a dining arrangement between the living space and the kitchen, some bookshelves against the walls with various books, some hunting implements on the walls where there was space.

"It's ... undisturbed," Kris mused, brows furrowed. "I don't understand~"

"Undisturbed, or maintained." Callisi mentioned, looking around the room as well. Lower light didn't bother her, in fact quite the contrary. Her eyesight was better in dim light, it was just a shame she had no idea what to look for as a comparison. She was told this place was vacant, run down possibly. Empty. This was not the case.

When the lights came on, it helped Kris more than the rabbitess, but she'd rather be hindered a bit and let the expert see. "Someone is using this place. And they know you well enough to allow you in."

"Maintaining, yes. Using, no," Kris mused, tracing her finger through the dust on a counter top. "Place is too uniformly dusty to be in regular use," she added, stepping in further, disturbing the dust on the ground. "My Father never had a force field around the place either, didn't like that kind of modern technology much. Wonder what's going on there," she added. That's when she saw a device with a red blinking light, sat on the dining table between the dusty decorations, sparse as they were. With furrowed brow she pressed the red lit button, taking a step back as a holographic projection of a stern looking man in his seventies appeared.

"Hello Kristiana," he spoke in Russian, translated into Federation Common by the universal translator. "If you're seeing this then I am gone. I don't have long left on this world, but wanted to record this message for you before I go." Although his face and demeanor was stern there was a strength and an aged kindness to his eyes. Kristiana just watched in silence, her expression unreadable.

"Time has not been kind to us. I have not been kind to us," he continued, brows furrowing. "I'm sorry, Kris, for all I've done. All I've said. I've treated you unfairly. Held you to unfair standards. Wanted you to become me, when instead I should've wanted you to become yourself. I'm sorry, for not accepting you for who you are. Sorry, for not having seen the strength in you. Sorry for not having accepted that you wanted to join Starfleet. You're no farmer. Never were. And I'm sorry for not seeing that. Never seeing what you truly are."

"What you are, is a strong and independent woman, who charts her own path. What you are, is an officer who stands by her principles, and has chosen to wear the mantle of defender, facing who knows what and standing strong. What you are, is a survivor," Old Man Petrov continued. "What you are, is the daughter I never deserved, and never valued. I see now that I was never the father you deserved, either. And I'm sorry," he stood up a bit straighter now, expression steeling.

"I've sold the animals, sold the last harvest of crops. I'm transferring the deed to the farm, the outbuildings and the lands to your name. I'm installing a force field to protect the homestead, and I'm giving access to you and to Andrzej Ivanov. Remember him? He runs the petting zoo you always loved to go to. I'm giving him access so he can come by every now and then and make sure the homestead is ready for your return. But the land and the buildings on it are yours now," The father's expression fell, he glanced down a moment.

"You deserved a better father than I ever was. My two regrets in life is that I didn't see that sooner, and that I'll never see you again before I go. I'm proud of you, my little sun ray. And I love you," And with that the hologram faded out, leaving Kris in silence with her expression unreadable, but a lone tear slipping down her cheek.

This was a moment for Callisi to witness, not to participate in. The family she left had missed her, had regretted how they parted, and in the peace of the grave had reached across to make amends. She'd be the silent witness to this moment.

"...Sorry you had to see that," Kris offered after a few moments of silence. She reached up to wipe her tears away before sinking down upon a couch and leaning back, closing her eyes for a moment. "I'm ok. That was - ... A lot. But I'm alright, just need to process."

The resident rabbitess, however, shook her head, "There's nothing to apologize for. You take the time you need. Just be mindful of the dust." she cautioned. "Now, while the building is maintained, I doubt it's stocked. I'll take a walk back to the shuttle and get something to celebrate, to mourn, and to remember." She paused, "I'd stop in town, but I didn't bring any Seventy Six with me. Not that I think they'd take it." she smirked. "Will you be alright until I return?"

"Hm. I've got a different idea. You eat meat, right? Have you ever had pheasant? It's - fowl. Not foul as in bad but fowl as in bird meat. They live in the area, I could hunt us one and prepare it, take my mind off of things," Kris spoke, standing up again.

"If it will help you, then by all means." Callisi offered with a soft smile. "Peasant. No no... Feasant. Fffffffeasant... Phhhhhheasant." she tried the word a few times. It was a new one to her. "I've had bird in the past. Mostly chicken and turkey, as humanity has rituals and holidays specifically centered around eating those animals. I imagine such are to remember and establish dominance as a species, but I could be quite mistaken. Human holidays are confounding."

"They really are. Don't ask me to set them straight for you, I'll leave that to wiser people," Kris mused, reaching for a note and a pen. She started scribbling, as she spoke. "Tell you what, you go to the shuttle, collect these and start them on the stove, I'll go hunt us a bird," she added, rising to her feet, handing Callisi the note and collecting a shotgun from the wall.

The cyclopean rabbitess gave a nod as she took the note, "Off to my task I go." she cited, then turned to depart. A shotgun? Why not just use a phaser? She wouldn't question it out loud, perhaps Kris just needed to let off some frustration, and an actual firearm was the means to do so.

 

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