Flaihhsam s'Spahkh

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods,

"And for the tender mother
Who dandled him to rest,
And for the wife who nurses
His baby at her breast,
And for the holy maidens
Who feed the eternal flame,
To save them from false Sextus
That wrought the deed of shame?

"Haul down the bridge, Sir Consul,
With all the speed ye may;
I, with two more to help me,
Will hold the foe in play.
In yon strait path a thousand
May well be stopped by three.
Now who will stand on either hand,
And keep the bridge with me?"
— "Horatius" 27-29, Lays of Ancient Rome, Lord Thomas Babington Macaulay, 1st Baron Macaulay

Vulcan's Forge, Thaei
ch'Rihan date 02/04/4101 A.S. (20 June 2410 Earth Standard)

The Rihannsu were long-lived, and had long memories. Particularly among the noble classes the holding of old grudges was a cherished tradition, and their pursuit could lead to cycles of violence and revenge lasting for centuries. Mnhei'sahe demanded that a loss of face be rectified by word, deed, or if necessary, blood.

But like so many things in the fabric of the Rihanh, this was dual-edged, for as the Rihannsu rarely forgot or forgave past slights, so too did they remember past favors and aid. The sun-blasted volcanic mountain range of Vulcan's Forge reminded Morgan unpleasantly of the hottest days on her farm on Virinat, without the benefit of a cool breeze from the higher elevations. It would be that the Thaessu marked the anniversary of the Loss and the Sacrifice at the height of local summer.

Though on another level, she reflected, it made sense: Lost in Fire, they were, and so in Fire were they remembered.

Rows of granite statues stood along the paths to the temple and the shrine, monuments to great thinkers in the annals of the Thaessu. Morgan could name some of them. Surak. T'Chel. Syrran. Their katric arks stood silent in the temple behind her.

But for one statue, there was no corresponding ark. An impossibly aged face, intricately carved formal robes, hand outstretched in the Thaes gesture of greeting. The Thaessu mourned the loss of Llairhi Spahkh's katra, though he was but one life among billions snuffed out in the Loss. Morgan was here not for his death, but for his life, and privately suspected an irony: of all the people present at this memorial, she was likely the only one who had actually met the man.

Bhoewen Ehrie District, Ki Baratan, ch'Rihan
ch'Rihan date 07/12/4062 A.S. (4 January 2371 Earth Standard)

"But why do I have to go?" the ebon-haired fifteen-year-old complained. "It's just going to be a bunch of stuffy speeches and boring old people!"

"Do you consider me a 'boring old person', then, Morgaiahal?" the taller woman said, turning from her mirror and looking at her daughter with an amused smile.

"At the moment, yes! And I told you to stop calling me 'Morgaiahal'!"

Iliana t'Thavrau laughed and straightened the sash of her ceremonial robes. The earth-colored tivish fabric from Mirhassa wasn't the best grade—that was well beyond a civil servant's means, even one like her with familial connections to one of the Houses—but it was good enough to be seen in the expected company. The sash, a darker shade of brown and trimmed with gold thread, bore three insignias embroidered in black: first the emblem of theShiar, then the sword-and-quill mark of Hfihar s'Nennien, the family of the deihu for whom Iliana currently worked, and finally the stylized Terelex Straits fishhawk that was the sigil-beast of Hfihar s'Thavrau.

Iliana turned to her only child again. Morgaiah had hit a growth spurt recently and her reflexes hadn't quite caught up. Iliana remembered that awkward, gawky period from her own childhood: if nothing else mother and daughter had that in common.

She studied her daughter critically as the young woman petulantly planted her hands on her hips. Iliana could see much of herself, the same obsidian hair, pronounced widow's peak, and narrow forehead ridge descending to the bridge of her nose. But where Iliana was green-eyed, soft and sweet-faced, Morgaiah's eyes were a stormy blue and she could see the germ of an austere, elegant beauty.

Tack number one: show the benefit to going. She laid a hand on Morgaiah's shoulder. "You want to go to Phi'lasasam in two summers, yes? You're going to need a deihu to sponsor you."

"Great-Aunt Sindari," Morgaiah said dismissively.

Iliana studiously ignored the mogai in the room, that she hadn't been on good terms with her aunt, Hru'hfirh s'Thavrau and the representative for the entire Sheratan VII colony, since she'd mysteriously turned up pregnant fifteen years ago while serving as Deihu tr'Vreenak's chief of staff. Instead she pointed out, "She's family. She's not allowed to sponsor you, not after that dung-for-brains half-breed slipped through. But this is a state reception. There will be more than enough deihur present for you to make a contact and cultivate the necessary ties. I can introduce you to tr'Vreenak, t'Nai, and t'Nennien. Believe me, It'll work to your favor now and later. And getting out of the house for something other than school will do you good anyway."

"I get out of the house all the time."

"Yes, and you spend most of it with that Terrhaha."

"So what? I've known Gina since I was five."

"And you've known for that long that I don't approve," Iliana told her point-blank. "I've let it slide this long, but you're not a child anymore. If to become an officer in the Galae truly is your wish, you must start preparing now."

Morgaiah glared at her mother. Iliana stood impassive.

Morgaiah looked away first. "Fine. I'll come to your stupid Deihuit session."

"Excellent. I had your robes cleaned; they're hanging in your room."

"Are you going to be there?" Morgan asked the short blonde Terrhaha over vidcom.

"Sorry, Morgan, couldn't even if Mom wanted me there. I've got a school project due in two days and I'm behind."

"Fvadt."

"Come on, Morg. The ambassador's going to be there. It can't be that bad."

It was that bad.

Morgan itched. Her formal robes hadn't fit properly for years no matter how much time her mother's tailor spent on it, and the fabric wasn't anywhere near as good as the tivish her mother wore. To make matters worse the speechifying had been even more boring than predicted, mostly statements of intent by some of the voting blocs in the Deihuit regarding a new threat from afar. In the tongue of the Declared it had been dubbed the D'Nneikha—the Dominion, in the tongue of the Lloann'nasu—and as on so many other things the Deihuit was divided on the appropriate response.

It was rather impressive how a politician could make something as dramatic as the wanton destruction of hundreds of freighters, a colony numbering seventeen thousand, and a Galaxy-class starship sound as exciting as a recitation of the Ki Baratan comm directory. Despite her best efforts Morgan only really understood the basic details. And at the moment they were less important than the insistence of her stomach that she fill it. "Pardon me," she said to a silver-haired man standing in her way at the buffet table at the west wall of the Hall of State. "I'm trying to reach the osol twists."

"Allow me," a warm voice said in return. With movements that struck Morgan as coolly measured and considered, the Rihanha selected one of the candies and turned and passed it to her.

She looked up into an aged face, one of the oldest-looking men she had ever met. A strange expression was on his face: His mouth was set in a thin, severe line, but the deep-set brown eyes were smiling. "Narihu-difv hwio?" she asked. Who are you?

"Narihu Spahkh rhanne," he answered in simple but flawless High Rihan. I am Spock.

So, not a Rihanha after all. A Thaesha. The Thaesha, in point of fact, the current ambassador for the Lloann'mhrahel. So that explained the two Lloannen'galae officers standing nearby in yellow tunics, obviously his security detail.

"Who are you?" Spock asked.

"Morgaiah. Morgaiah ir'Sheratan t'Thavrau."

"Ah, the friend of Eugenia Parker."

"You know Gina?" she asked in surprise.

"I know her mother, Counselor Annette Parker. She is very pleased that Gina has found a friend outside the embassy compound, particularly in as hostile an environment as ch'Rihan."

"I wish my mother shared that sentiment."

Spock's expression remained impassive but he inclined his head slightly. "Respect her; you will only have one."

"Corrupting our youth again, Llairhi Spahkh?" a harsher voice interrupted from behind Morgan.

She turned and looked up into a gaunt Rihan face. The man's robes were the dark blue of a stormy sea, and his sash bore an emblem of swords crossed behind a stylized thrai. "I was not, Vreenak," Spock replied. "We merely have a mutual acquaintance."

"Deihu Merken i'Rateg tr'Vreenak, sir," Morgan greeted the newcomer, bowing her head respectfully.

"And you must be the daughter whom Iliana ir'Sheratan speaks of so often."

"Morgaiah t'Thavrau, sir."

"Look up. Let me see your face, girl." Morgan did so. The deihu was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Spitting image of your mother," he finally said. "She worked for me for nine years. I was very sorry to see her leave." He turned back to Spock. "I'm sure you're aware, Llairhi, that my Jol Tan Coalition will be voting against your proposal."

"I would like you to reconsider. Our post-combat analysis of the altercation between the Odyssey and the Jem'Hadar—"

"—is irrelevant," tr'Vreenak cut him off with a slashing motion of his hand. "If the D'Nneikha can bring down one of your vaunted Cehlaer-class warbirds, I congratulate them on the achievement. What hurts the Lloann'mhrahel helps the Shiar ih'Saeihr Rihan."

"An illogical position for the leih of the Tal'Shiar," Spock remarked evenly.

Tr'Vreenak laughed and poured a glass of wine from a decanter on the buffet table. "Precisely the response I would expect from a Thaesha." He veritably spat the last word. "Wine?"

"My lord," Morgan said hesitantly, "I'm… going to have to agree with Llairhi Spahkh."

Tr'Vreenak raised an eyebrow. "Go on."

"Well, if the Jemhhadarsu can so easily down a Cehlaer-class warbird, I suggest they would have even less trouble with an Amarcan-class or D'deridex-class."

"Ridiculous."

"Sir, I am reasonably well-versed in the capabilities of our arms—what isn't classified—and I intend to apply to the Phi'lasasam soon. Respectfully, lack of cloak notwithstanding, the Lloannen'galae battleship is a superior design. The superstructure alone is much sturdier than any current warbird and the deflector shields are considerably more powerful."

"Their shields were completely ineffective."

"Can you be sure that yours won't be?" Spock asked.

"No," tr'Vreenak admitted. "But neither can we be sure that if your government is granted the use of a cloaking device, it will not be used against the Rihanh."

"Sir, again I'm going to have to disagree," Morgan said, more confidently this time. "The Ekhiel s'Lloann'mhrahel has kept up its end of the Alpha Trianguli and Algeron agreements to the letter. It is we who've violated it, more than a dozen times."

Tr'Vreenak looked unpleasantly surprised at being contradicted by a girl young enough to be his daughter. "You trust the Lloann'mhrahel?"

"Where keeping the peace is concerned? Yes."

"Well, I wish I shared your confidence. The answer is still 'no', Llairhi Spahkh. Good night."

"Bedah, Deihu tr'Vreenak," Spock courteously returned, half-bowing in the Rihan manner. He watched the much younger man leave. "I am not surprised at his reaction."

"Neither am I, sir. Do you want some wine? It's from my homeworld." Spock gave her what she thought was a questioning look. "My family runs the Sheratan VII colony; I was born there."

"Then, yes, I would." Morgan poured him a glass of the garnet liquid and passed it to him. "I remember the first time I drank Rihan wine. 2276, during the Rihannsu Lleisir revolution. I was greatly saddened to learn of rh'Rhiyrh Ael's assassination."

Morgan shrugged. "That was decades before I was born, sir."

"I am aware. But I believe you would have liked her."

A red-robed Deihuit staffer came up to Spock. "They're ready for you, sir."

Spock smoothly knocked back his glass of wine and placed it on the table. "Give Gina Parker my regards," he told Morgan, then strode down the steps to the floor of the chamber.

"Deihur khlinae'eriin," he addressed them, "on behalf of the United Federation of Planets I am deeply grateful for the opportunity to address you in person, and I will endeavor to be brief. By now you have read my proposal to allow the limited use of a Rihan cloaking device aboard our prototype vessel the Federation Starship Defiant, in return for full disclosure of any intelligence thereby gathered." He paused. "The Dominion represents a threat of unknown scale, but their disregard for the sanctity of sapient life is abundantly clear. The Tal'Diann and Tal'Shiar were given full access to information gathered by Starfleet Intelligence and the Ferengi Alliance, and earlier today I submitted affidavits from both agencies finding no cause to believe the claim by the Dominion that our ships and settlements violated their borders as they stood prior to the destruction of the New Bajor colony.

"But that is the limit of our knowledge. It is imperative that we learn more. I will politely remind this assembly that fifteen Rihan trade vessels and one prospector ship for the Mining Guild, over seventeen hundred Rihannsu all told, are among the dead. I recognize that there is much bad blood between the Federation and the Rihanh, but I urge you to set aside old hatreds in the face of this new and terrible threat." He began to slip into High Rihan, his sonorous voice calm yet somehow rich with emotion. "If you agree, we stipulate that we will share all we learn of the D'Nneikha, no matter how significant, and that the cloaking device will not ever be used against the Shiar i'Saeihr Rihan. This I do swear upon my own mnhei'sahe, as well as that of the Lloann'mhrahel."

"How far can we trust your mnhei'sahe, Thaesha?" asked Deihu Koval, a prominent opponent of the Lloann'mhrahel. "You're a Unificationist, aren't you? Poisoning our youth with your pretensions of Thaesha superiority and talk of logic and suppressing emotions? Your activities have, of course, been well publicized."

"I am a supporter of Unification," said Spock evenly, as Neral glared pointedly at the smugly-smiling Koval for his rudeness. "But I am not, as you claim, motivated by my 'pretensions of Thaesha superiority'. Indeed, I recognize the great misdeeds that my ancestors enacted against yours during the Sundering." A ripple of shock ran through the Hall; that a Lloann'na, much less a Thaesha, would say such things, even in front of the Deihuit on ch'Rihan… "I do dream, one day, of seeing the children of Vulcan and the children of ch'Rihan united once more, as one people, brothers and sisters with Rihan courage and Vulcan logic in equal measure, but for now, Deihu, my goals are considerably more mundane. As I have stated, my government will agree to the terms negotiated between myself and Fvillhu Neral, and I will consider it a matter of personal pride to ensure that my government keeps its oaths. Thank you."

Some of the deihur began to clap quietly, but Fvillhu Neral pounded his gavel from his chair, set below the simple metal seat where an ancient sword sat across the arms. "Order! We shall have order!" The chamber grew silent. "I now call for the vote on Session 3407, Bill 1138, proposal by the Llairhi for the Lloann'mhrahel for exception to Treaty of Algeron Article IV. You may mark your ballots." The deihur gathered in the chamber tapped their wrist communicators while the fvillhu watched the outputs on a datapad. From the gallery Morgan spied her iron-haired great-aunt, sitting in the Suketh Coalition's section, elbow the man next to her and glare at him; he hurriedly adjusted his vote.

After a few minutes the Fvillhu raised his head. "Final tally, fourteen absent, seven abstentions, 507 'aye', 494 'nay'. The motion passes. These proceedings are closed." He pounded his gavel twice. "Deihuit adjourned."

Vulcan's Forge, Thaei
Present Day

The alliance forged by the old Thaesha had been fleeting, Morgan lamented. By the time she'd entered the Phi'lasasam with an appointment from her mother's employer Sakeru t'Nennian, the Shiar had signed a nonaggression pact with the D'Nneikha.

Still, Spock had planted a seed. Friendship, Morgan thought, glancing behind her at the olive-skinned Terrhaha in Lloannen'galae dress whites. And his Sacrifice, that was honored even in the remnants of the Shiar. Billions had died, including Morgan's family, from Aunt Sindari to beloved Iliana, but because he acted, billions more were saved.

Morgan stepped forward and mirrored the statue's gesture. "Khlinae arhem." Thank you.

Author's Notes: I was trying to do two things with this piece. The prompt, obviously, but also explore Morgan's backstory some more, including where she got her nickname.

I borrowed some of the details on the working of the Senate, including political party names, from Last Unicorn's RPG supplement The Way of D'era.

Bit of a Mythology Gag in my epigraph. The first and last Rihannsu books also used verses from that poem.

Rihan Glossary:

Bedah: Formal farewell.

ch'Rihan: The planet Romulus (lit. "of the Declared").

Deihu: Romulan senator, literally "elder" (pl. deihur). In Rihannsu lore, an inherited title rather than an elected official.

Deihuit: The Romulan Senate.

Ekhiel s'Lloann'mhrahel: The Federation Council.

Fvadt: Profanity, akin to "damn".

Fvillhu: Romulan praetor, leader of the Senate effectively the prime minister of the Romulan Star Empire. (Note: In the Rihannsu novels there were twelve praetors who served in a separate legislative chamber from the Senate; however I'm adjusting things to fit on-screen canon better. Perhaps the structure of the government was changed after the novels.)

Hfihar: A Romulan noble house.

Hru'hfirh: Head of a Romulan noble house. Not to be confused with hru'hfe, a high-ranking servant.

Jemhhadarsu: Jem'Hadar.

Lloann'mhrahel: Colloquially the United Federation of Planets (lit. "them, from there").

Lloann'nasu: Federation citizens (sing. Lloann'na).

Lloannen'galae: The Federation Starfleet.

Llairhi: Ambassador.

Mnhei'sahe: Lit. "the Ruling Passion", the Romulan concept of honor.

Phi'lasasam: Romulan equivalent to Starfleet Academy.

rh'Rhiyrh: Empress.

Rihannsu: Romulans (lit. "the Declared"; sing. "Rihanha"; adj. "Rihan"). Rihanh refers to the Romulan race as a whole.

Rihannsu Lleisir: Literally "Free Rihannsu", the coalition of Romulan revolutionaries led by James T. Kirk and Ael t'Rllaillieu during the Romulan Civil War of 2276. (c.f. The Empty Chair)

Shiar ih'Saeihr Rihan: The Romulan Star Empire.

Terrhaha: Human (lit. "one from Terra"; pl. Terrhasu).

Thaei: The planet Vulcan.

Thaessu: Vulcans (singular Thaesha)