Far Away From Home

 

 He let the Ambassador see the materials first, but he already had an idea of how bad it must be.

Vuron stood outside the door to his private quarters, waiting further orders. Trying to ignore the odd passerby. Not even Vulcans were immune to curiosity. Especially–

“Mr. Vuron.”

He opened his door. Sranak sat before Vuron's personal computer screen. His narrow shoulders hiding whatever he saw.

“Yes, sir?”

“Gather everyone in the common room, please.”

He nodded.

Most of the higher ranking staff were already gathered.

Sranak gave him a questioning look when he finally entered, glancing at the lower ranking staff. Vuron squared his shoulders at the decision. They might be little more than cooks, maids, and pilots, but they deserved to know. The older Vulcan glanced away. As close to acquiescence as he would allow.

“Have you been able to contact Vulcan?” T'Luminareth pipped in.

Sranak looked to the young security officer.

“Channels throughout our system are garbled. It seems everyone,” everyone still alive, “Is talking at once. However, I was able to get in contact with Starfleet.”

Surreptitious glances at the Ambassador revealed nothing.

“They sent a video,” he finally relented. With a few clicks on the seldom used entertainment system, one of the files the human had sent popped up onto the large screen.

Their collective breaths released at the site of their desert home. The feed obviously taken from some distant satellite. Sranak sped through the feed, showing a Romulan mining ship, corrupted by some unknown force, going into orbit. The destruction of so many Vulcan and Federation ships. The mining drill. He finally slowed the feed to realtime as a probe dropped from the mining ship.

Vuron held his breath as the probe fell. Sunlight flickered over its metal surfaces. In his mind, he heard the echo of a million voices screaming out for help.

Then.... And then.... Everything just.... collapsed.

Suddenly, no more home. No more people.

“The USS Enterprise succeeded in saving the elders,” Ambassador Sranak calmly intoned. “There are other refugee ships, of course. Along with our colonies and other explorative vessels.”

“Starfleet estimates between ten and one hundred thousand of our people survive,” Vuron quoted without thought.

Sranak nodded.

“Our work here now is more important than ever. Without the potential resources and allies we gain here on Qo'noS, our future will be more uncertain. We will complete our mission here before returning to our people.”