A Universe of Leaves

Posted on Sat Mar 14th, 2026 @ 7:32pm by Ensign Vesper Wells & Tavrek Harland

2,615 words; about a 13 minute read

Mission: Prologue
Timeline: Early 2389

The Diplomatic Department on the USS Guinevere wasn't what you'd call busy. Small, contained and sometimes, Tavrek wondered why he had ended up here. But he was a civilian. A translation specialist, which wasn't quite the same as a linguist and certainly not the same as a diplomat. He may have been just as suited in science as here, yet he dealt with very alive languages. Some more obscure, but he was a quick study. He had made himself some tea...well, replicated it. He did not believe in taking up any more space here than he was entitled to, and bringing his own teapot in would have been making assumptions he did not have the right to make. He sipped the tea, a green blend from Earth, his finger moving along the PADD to highlight sections. Right now, he was comparing Pidgin languages in the Beta Quadrant, for species with no access to universal translators. A...side project, as he waited to get assigned more tasks.

As the door swished open, Vesper Wells made her way inside, one hand clasping the top of her cane, her other arm cradling a couple of PADDs. She wore an impeccable uniform, and her long, blonde hair had been half braided away from her face in a juliet plait. "Mr Harland...?" she phrased it as a question out of politeness, but she knew exactly who he was from his file. Analytical, shrewd, perceptive.

Tavrek looked at her and stood, his hands going behind his back. His features remained...neutral. Schooled. "Yes...how may I assist you?"

"Yeoman Vesper Wells," she introduced herself with a warm smile, balancing her PADDs precariously to offer her hand across. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

He moved to take her hand, meeting her eyes as he gave a small smile in reply. "Yeoman Wells...pleasure is mine," he said, politely. "Please, take a seat. Can I...help with anything?"

"Yes, yes you can," she settled down on a chair, unloading herself of her handfuls. "I...had noticed that you hadn't submitted any reports since joining."

Tavrek looked at her with surprise, even a bit perplexed, before he took a seat. "I...am not Starfleet," he said, meeting her eyes. "I am a civilian."

"But....you are a member of this team," she pointed out with a gentle, disarming smile as she met his eyes.

He blinked at that, surprised before he looked down. "I was unaware that submitting reports were part of...my duties here," he admitted and met her eyes again. "Are you saying I'm slacking?" There was just a hint of playfulness under it, to keep it from being an accusation.

"I would never dream of it," Vesper laughed softly at the way he had put it, shaking her head firmly as she leant her forearms on her lap so she could lean into him. "But we should make sure that what you're doing is logged."

"Ah..." Tavrek gave a nod, a small smile twisting his lips. He raised an eyebrow at her. "I suppose any plot would be revealed once you realised what I was doing."

"Well that would depend on how much you paid me to keep your secrets," she teased with a small but playful smile.

"Fascinating," Tavrek said softly, his eyes on hers before he gave a small chuckle. "Not in gold pressed latinum...mm...no, I think you'd have another vice, something you'd prefer more."

"I have very few vices," she admitted with a soft, sheepish smile at admitting just how dull she really was. "Unless you're counting tea, which really would be a sad state of affairs."

"I can bribe you in tea," Tavrek declared with a smile, nodding as he sat back. "My family's blend. That...for the silence...of what I am doing which, truthfully, benefits....no one on this ship."

"Your family has a blend of tea?" she asked with surprise, laughing gently with it.

"Most Vulcan families do," Tavrek said and bowed his head, but there was a playfulness with it. "I tend to...play around with it. Adjust it a little based on...how I feel."

"You make it sound so easy. I'm just pleased with myself if I can get hold of some lemon balm," she admitted with a soft chuckle, easing back in her chair to stretch her back. "One of the sergeants with the ground forces, he grows real mint down there, can you believe it?"

"No, but...maybe it says more about how I see the Ground Forces than anything else," he said as he looked at her with a small smile. He liked her. She had a warm nature, and was unafraid to show it. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Yes please," she said softly with a touch of relief. If she wasn't being ushered out, it could only be a good thing. "I...would love some tea, if it's not too much trouble?"

Tavrek stood smoothly, shakign his head. "No trouble at all," he said, watching her for a moment. He walked to the replicator, regretting now not having what he needed to make his own tea for her. Nevermind. "What would you like? There are so many different ones to choose from...a universe of leaves."

"Can I try yours?" she asked with hope, straightening to watch. "Is it in the replicator?"

"It...is not," he said but a small smile came to him. He bowed his head for a moment, almost a bow. "But the ingredients are. It would be quicker for me to replicate them and make it, than try and programme the replicator with a new recipe." He walked over, getting what he needed. A tea pot, the leaves...the various herbs that put together the family blend.

She got up, unable to hold back her curiosity as she moved in closer. She watched, trying to identify all the ingredients, but couldn't. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to go through so much trouble..."

"It's not trouble," he said with a small smile as he glanced at her. "If I did not want to do it, I would not do it." He took the pestle and mortar, measuring what he needed. "There is something soothing about it...creating something like this."

She smiled softly, watching on with interest at how skilled he was. "Where did you learn to do this?" she asked softly.

"My Vulcan mother," he said as he ground the herbs, taking a slow breath. "She liked it when I took an interest in Vulcan culture. My other mother is human."

She leant in close, closing her eyes as she took a breath in to enjoy the fragrance from the crushed leaves. "She must have been so proud."

Tavrek smiled as he shook his head. "In her way...yes, she is. My parents believed I should...have access to both my cultures, and be defined by neither." He lifted it for her to properly smell. "Vulcan tea can be made in many ways. My family always grind it all to powder, even the leaves. The trick is a pour that means none of the powder makes it to the cups."

She nodded with understanding, smiling warmly at the fragrance. It was more earthy than she had expected, but she liked that. "No mean feat, I'm sure..."

"I had a patient tutor...for a Vulcan," he said and winked, before he moved to replicate the hot water. "What about you? Your interest in tea must have started somewhere."

"Also my mother," she admitted with a soft laugh, shaking her head. "I grew up on Earth. She kept a botanical glass house. She enjoyed real teas and infusions."

Tavrek nodded as he looked at her, before he carefully put the powdered tea in the pot. "Kept?" he asked, looking at her for a moment.

Vesper nodded with a gentle smile, realising how that must have sounded. "Still does," she assured softly. "I...hadn't realised I'd used the past tense. Perhaps...it is a sign my idea of home is....shifting."

"Yes...the concept of home does shift," he said softly, giving her a nod. He started to pour the hot water in, carefully, almost swirling the jug as he did so. "Is it where you grew up...or where those you love are...or where your life is? Or merely the space which you occupy yourself. It is...fascinating."

"May I ask where yours is?" she asked, but with a soft smile. She wouldn't be offended if he said no.

He tilted his head, considering her question for a long moment. "Where I put my head," he finally said. "My human mother died some years ago. My Vulcan one moved back to Vulcan...and that has never been my home. So it is where I am, where my...life is. So here. Here is my home now."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Tavrek," she said softly, reaching to squeeze his arm gently.

He looked at her with surprise before he moved his hand to cover hers. "Thank you, Vesper," he said, his voice quiet. "It...was expected."

"That doesn't make it any easier," she said softly, rubbing his arm gently. "I think she would love that you are still making tea. Sharing it with crewmates."

"She would...she always said part of being human was sharing. That I came from a world where a lot of pain could have been avoided in history if people just shared and accepted each other," Tavrek said and carried the teapot to the table, then got two cups. He looked at her with a small smile. "Which I suppose has a good logic to it."

"Sound logic," Vesper agreed as she settled next to him with a small smile. "Just those pesky emotions and instincts that get in the way, huh?" she teased.

He chuckled at that, nodding as he watched her. "I find it easier to embrace emotions...no matter how hard they flash."

"I can't imagine life without them," she replied honestly. Not as a judgement, just a genuine reaction to trying to hold hers back.

He nodded as he looked at her for a moment before he reached to pour the tea from the Earth teapot. "Vulcan teapots have no handle. They are placed on the heat...part of the ritual is to hold the pot and do a controlled pour, even if the heat is hurting your palms..." he spoke softly, careful not to get any of the powder into the cup. "Suppressing emotions doesn't....remove them. They are still there, recognisable...just not expressed."

Vesper shook her head with confusion, frowning as she leant a little closer. "Why intentionally harm yourself?"

"It's...not seen like that on Vulcan," he said as he put the teapot down. "It is seen as part of meditation...you detach yourself from the physical."

Vesper paused for just a moment...because it still seemed like a form of self harm, regardless of the why, but she remained silent. She didn't want to offend by commenting on a culture she didn't fully understand yet. "It smells delicious."

He smiled and put the teapot down, taking the cup in both hands and offering it to her. "I hope you find it tastes delicious as well. When I was a child, I added honey when no one watched me. I...still do when I feel the need. If you need it sweeter, just tell me."

She took a moment to close her eyes and breathe the steam in, savouring the scent before taking a careful sip. It didn't disappoint. It was so...grounding. It tasted like nature. "No, it's just right," she assured. "Thank you."

"Good," he said with a smile and moved to sit down, motioning for her to join him. "So...the reports. How often do I....have to file them?" he asked and sipped the tea. Watching her with interest.

"Well, usually once a week. But if you complete anything particularly interesting or important, you should also submit an adhoc report," she advised softly as she watched him over the rim of her cup.

He nodded, taking it in before he gave a small smile. "I am used to...completing a full piece of work, then sending it for review. Not writing reports for a Commanding Officer," he said, a soft chuckle escaping him. "How detailed should I be?"

"Well, the official answer is as detailed as it needs to be," she leant closer to him with a small smile. "But between you and me? Two pages. And some of that should be bullet points. Anymore, and it won't get read properly, any less and it looks like you're not trying hard enough."

"High level," he said with a soft nod, understanding that concept well enough. "Enough to know about it, without being...bogged down into the woods?"

Vesper gave a firm nod before taking another sip, sighing softly. "Exactly. They can always request more information if they need. Either way, it's no bad thing having your name pass over their desks."

"Isn't it? I thought I could...just be a passenger," Tavrek said, but there was warmth and humour in his face as he looked at her. "Low stakes, as I've heard it called."

"True, you could," Vesper smiled softly as she carefully set the saucer down on the table. "But it is hard for great people not to shine."

"Ah, you seem to think I am great," he said lightly before he shook his head, with interest. "Your accent...England, Earth?"

Her smile brightened slightly with surprise and she nodded quickly. "Yes...I knew you were an expert with language, but not necessarily accents and the nuance of dialect..."

"I am better with Earth dialects than Vulcan ones," he admitted openly with a small chuckle. "My mother kept me exposed. Many relatives and all that."

"Where do they hail from?" she asked, trying to imagine what it was like to have a foot in two different cultures.

"The North," he said as he looked at her, giving a nod. "Scandinavia, technically..." he looked down, with a fond smile. "I've been once. I was very young."

"Oh, I love it up there! The mountains and ice are beautiful," Vesper said quickly, the excitement clear in her eyes. "We should go there sometime, explore the fjords."

He smiled at the excitement, at the way she lit up with it. "We could, although it's...quite cold now and then," he said with a chuckle. "And there's so much...bread and pastries. Not always replicated either."

"Don't tell me you're afraid of a little cold and carbs?" she teased him with a small smile, arching her eyebrow in something close to a challenge.

Tavrek looked at her before he laughed, a hint of colour in his cheeks, not flushing the way it would on a full human, the colour a touch more Vulcan. "The carbs more than the cold," he admitted with a smile.

"Then let me tell you, Tavrek, you do not know what you are missing..." Vesper leant in to lower her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "There is something about buttery pastry and a soft but chewy bread that makes the cold seem a little less bitter. Now add some hot melted cheese and a cup of hot chocolate, and it's heaven."

Tavrek chuckled as he watched her, his eyes shining with it. "Vesper..." he breathed, voice lowered and deeper with it. "You will drive a man to the sugary or buttery side..."

---

Tavrek Harland
Translation Specialist
USS Guinevere

Ensign Vesper Wells
Yeoman
USS Guinevere

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