Tales of Halur "Hal" Vaas

Cosmos

Part One


This wasn’t Hal’s first time on the “right” side of a one-way mirror. In fact, in his years aboard ESD as a security officer he found himself gazing into an interrogation room more times than he gazed into his own reflection in his quarters. He thought back to that oh-so-familiar room, a strangely posh setting given the type of crowd it frequently held, with its soft red carpet and sleek white walls shining under bright overhead lights. Indeed it was a far cry from the coarse, rusted metal that met the legal definition of a ‘floor’ at Penal Colony 47. His memories now turned to darker hallways lit by bulbs as defeated as the inhabitants, and sections of hull that groaned as the colony shifted on the asteroid’s surface, threatening a breach at any given moment. It was a place he usually only visited in nightmares these days, but not today. Now it wasn’t a figment of his past, but rather a possible future for young Orion male sitting on the opposite side of the mirror.

Hal looked down at his PADD again, the third time he’d done so in just as many minutes. There was nothing new on the screen, just the same biographical information he’d memorized days ago:

  • NAME: Arrin-Sar
  • Species: Orion
  • Gender: Male
  • DOB: Unknown (estimated age 14)
  • Place of Birth: Orion

Not much to go off of, but Hal wasn’t surprised. In fact he wondered if his own file was just as bare when the USS Matriarch first pulled him off his derelict shuttle. He straightened back up and turned his attention to the two people just a thin pane of glass away: Arrin-Sar, and the investigator that JAG had dispatched to the starbase. The stark difference between the two was almost painful for Hal to acknowledge: a kid who looked disheveled and malnourished even after weeks of care courtesy of Starfleet, wearing baggy, woven-fiber clothing that was about three sizes too big for him. Opposite Arrin-Sar was a tall, serious woman with porcelain-perfect skin accented with subdued make-up, sitting with one leg crossed at the knee in her pressed, soot black uniform. The JAG investigator, Lt. Commander Addison Hunt, sat quietly with the smallest of smiles while Arrin-Sar sipped on the water she had provided. Hal couldn’t tell what Hunt was reading from the teenager’s body language, but he knew already. Names had meaning to the Orions, and for Arrin-Sar to have to sit with someone with a family name of Hunt… Hal figured the teen would circle the wagons, give as little as he could to someone he thought wanted to hurt him.

Hunt slowly leaned forward on her side of the table; Arrin-Sar retreated the same distance, at least until he was pressed all the way back in his chair.

“Good evening, Arrin-Sar.”
“Is that what time it is? …There’s no viewports in here.”
“Ah. Yes, I’m sorry that you were kept waiting for so long.”

She wasn’t sorry, Hal knew. It was two classic interrogation tactics in one swift move: disorient the suspect by impeding their sense of time, and isolating them from their pack to exploit individual weakness. He tried to make it clear to Hunt that Arrin-Sar was a kid and not an enemy combatant, but expected it to fall on deaf ears since JAG had their way of doing things. Arrin-Sar, for his part, was trying to pull off a notion of indifference.

“I’m sure you’re a busy woman.”
“That I am. But tonight, you have all of my attention.”
“…Is that necessary? I told you everything I know.”
“I just want to go over it one more time, make sure I fully understand the situation you were put in.”

Feigned sympathy, and asking for a recap like it was to the teen’s benefit. Both ploys meant to lower Arrin-Sar’s guard and catch him in a lie. But the kid wasn’t lying, Hal knew it in his gut. But he also knew Arrin-Sar’s retelling wouldn’t be exact. It never is, when the thing you’re forced to relive is the thing you want to forget. Hal pulled up the transcript from the last interview, and waited.


“…From the beginning?” Hunt simply nodded. “I… was aboard a pirate ship, one of three. We attacked another ship in Federation space, near Betazed. …A starfleet vessel warped on top of us, transported us to their brig.”
“Yes, they did. But somehow, YOU managed to wiggle your way out.” Arrin-Sar didn’t take the bait. “So. At this point, you’re free from the cell. What do you choose to do next?”

Hal shook his head and muttered, “Come on Arrin-Sar, don’t fall for that…”

Arrin-Sar crossed his arms. “…My orders were to take the power offline.” Attaboy. For a moment Hal wondered if Hunt had some Betazoid blood in her when she side-eyed the mirror.

“Continue.”
“Jaggav… wanted me to disable the warp core. But there was too many people around. I doubled-back, followed a power cable to the nearest junction.”
“And sabotaged it.”
“…Yeah.”
“…How did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That the cable powered the brig. There’s a lot of cables and panels in the jeffries tubes of your average Starfleet ship. And the Mariner, well… she’s a one-of-a-kind ship that you’d never seen before. How did you know that cable didn’t power life support? Or the medbay? Or even just the mess hall replicators?”
“I… I just did.”
“…Hm.” Another side-eye from Hunt. Hal didn’t like that. “In any event, you were successful. The prisoners escaped and injured some of the Starfleet crew.”
“…Yes.” Arrin-Sar twisted in his chair, curling to one side and away from the mirror so Hal couldn’t only see his back.
“How many did you plan to kill yourself?”
“…What?” What?
“How many did you plan to kill yourself? Isn’t it common for Syndicate operatives to brag about their killcount?”
“N-No! I… I don’t know. I didn’t want to-”
“Which is it, Arrin-Sar? It’s not common to brag, or you don’t know if they brag?”
“I…”
“How many have you killed? One? Ten? More?”
“None! I-I’d never-!”
“Are you sure? You’ve been with Jagaav’s crew for a long time, haven’t you?”
“I don’t know how long-”
“How long have you worked for Jagaav?” Rapid fire questions. Don’t give your suspect time to regain their footing. Keep them moving, keep them emotional, let them slip. “What was it about Jagaav’s crew that appealed to you? What made you want to join him?” Already Hal could see Arrin-Sar reaching up with his sleeve to dab away tears at the corners of his eyes.

That was enough. He tapped a button at the window’s edge, and there was a soft click in the interrogation room. “Lt. Commander Hunt. Medical is ready for Arrin-Sar’s follow-up exam.” Hunt’s gaze drilled into the mirror, the crow’s feet near her eyes more prominent from her squinting.

“That isn’t until 1930.”
“The doctor had an opening in her schedule.”
Hunt exhaled through her nose, settling deeper into her own chair as she crossed her arms. “Can’t blame her for making every minute count. Fine. Escort our guest, Lieutenant.” Another soft click and the intercom went silent. Hal pocketed his PADD, circled to the door into the interrogation room, and opened it wide. It was the first time Arrin-Sar laid eyes on Hal… and the teen recoiled, sniffing loudly and hiding his face behind those baggy sleeves. Hunt noticed this too, and her previously hardened expression turned to something more… sympathetic? No. Curious, maybe.

Hal took cautious, slow steps closer to Arrin-Sar, taking a knee next to the teen’s chair so the two were eye-to-eye. He offered the kid a small smile, his tone gentle and even. “Hello Arrin-Sar, my name is Hal Vaas.” He waited a moment, unsure what Arrin-Sar’s next move might be.

But the teen surprised him again, meeting Hal’s gaze and softly replying, “…Hi. Are you taking me to the doctor now?”

“That’s right, I am. You and I are going back to the Mariner to see Dr. Greene.”

Arrin-Sar shifted again, pulling a knee up to his chest. “Do I… have to see her? She probably doesn’t want to see me again.”

“Don’t worry, Dr. Greene doesn’t hold grudges. She’s used to rowdy patients. Ask her about the time she tried to give me a Bolian flu vaccine.” A sliver of a smile crept across Arrin-Sar’s face. Hal seized the chance and slowly rose, offering the teen a hand out of his seat, which he accepted. Once Arrin-Sar was standing it finally hit Hal just how small the teenager was, even for an adolescent of his species. Another mystery to investigate, this time with the doctor.

“You… have a file on me. Right? I remember, she was the first person to ask what my name was.”

“Mm. That’s right.”

“So, she can fix it then? My name? It’s… not right.” Arrin-Sar looked to Hunt, who in turn arched a brow as if the eye contact was some kind of challenge. Hal just looked between them both.

“Oh. Certainly, we can fix that. Are we adding a family name?”

“No… fixing my given name. It’s not Arrin-Sar. It’s just Arrin…” The teen looked up to Hal, offering a small shrug coupled with a shift in the eyes, a nudge to Hal that he’d understand the context. …And he did, which he signaled back with a deep sigh and a single nod.

“Right… got it.” That left one last person in the room, Hunt, who was none the wiser. He pulled out his PADD, called up Arrin’s file, and purged the last syllable. Hunt’s own PADD pinged to notify her of the change, compelling her to rise from her seat.

“Lieutenant,” she said sternly, “You are NOT authorized to alter an inmate record.”

“I am Chief of Security for the Mariner-” an admission that again made Arrin recoil in uncertainty, “and the originator OF his record. I absolutely have the authority.”

“It changes his identity in our system!”

“It sure does, but not how you think.” With that he gently placed a hand on Arrin’s shoulder, offering a smile and a friendly head nudge toward the door, where another security officer was waiting. The teen looked back one last time before going with the new face, and Hall waited until their footsteps were out of earshot. “…Sar isn’t part of his legal name. In the native Orion tongue, some names do end in ‘sar,’ just a meaningless syllable in the name. But in the modern day it’s more of a… ‘status,’ I guess you would call it. I’m not surprised the universal translator didn’t catch the difference. Hell, I didn’t.”

“Then why were Jaggav and his crew calling him Arrin-Sar?”

Hal closed his eyes and sighed. “Because if someone adds ‘Sar’ to the end of your name, they’re calling you property.” He turned away, leaving a stunned Hunt with mouth slightly agape as the door closed behind Hal.

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Cosmos

Part Two


Hal awkwardly shifted in place, switching between standing upright and a painfully awkward “casual” lean against the bulkhead behind him. He wanted to stay just close enough to Arrin that he might feel safe, but not so close that the teen nor Dr. Greene would think him too big of a pest. The Doctor, for her part, seemed near oblivious to Hal’s presence, focus completely set on the patient in front of her. A small smile tugged at the edge of Hal’s mouth, fairly certain that Greene might’ve been the first doctor Arrin had ever met in his life. Little victories each day, tiny slices of normalcy to lay the foundation. And today? Today Arrin got to see a top-notch doctor.

His gaze drifted to Greene, her bedside manner on point as always. The words drifted undeciphered past his ears; her soothing tone and gentle eyes she gave her patient were all that mattered to the teen, that much he knew. But the spell that lulled Hal cracked as he saw those gentle eyes sharpen when she looked to her PADD, and her smile dipped ever so slightly. A quick recovery, a gentle pat of Arrin’s shoulder, and she excused herself to check something at the main computer interface. Hal gave Arrin a small nod and pushed off the bulkhead, following after her.

“…Something’s the matter.” Already, Hal could feel a tightness pressing on his chest. What was that about?

Greene glanced over her shoulder at the Orion, both of them, before nodding toward her office. Once the door hissed closed behind the both of them, she let out a sigh and settled into her chair. She waved to another empty chair opposite her, but Hal stood near the door as if he were expecting an uninvited guest. In a sense, he knew something uninvited was about to make an appearance. “There’s… something. The computer’s scraping together whatever information it can.”

“About?” Hal crossed his arms, his biceps tightening as he grips his own forearms a bit tighter.

“What’s the first thing you noticed about Arrin when you saw him?”

“Well… I didn’t want to assume since I couldn’t guess his exact age, but the first thing that stood out was how small he was.”

Greene nodded. “Ditto. During his first visit, he and the other Orions got a more… cursory work-up. Infectious diseases, parasites, anything that might require a quarantine. He seemed normal enough, and I initially chalked up his size to a combination of age and malnourishment. Today I’m looking at other things. Medical history, baseline physiology, genetics…” Greene squinted a bit up to the Security Chief. “Hal. I have a question for you. When you were… growing up, had you ever been to a doctor? Gotten physicals? Check-ups?”

The Orion shook his head. “Doctors were a luxury you got if you were near dead. And even then, it was usually just so they could put you down with… less of a mess.” Greene flinched at his words. “Otherwise, it was up to our handlers to deal with any… mild injuries. And before you ask, let’s just say the Syndicate uses the ‘term’ mild pretty fast and loose.”

Greene nodded as Hal spoke, taking a second glance at her PADD. “That… explains a lot of things. Muscle tears, malformed bones that weren’t set right… if at all. Signs of old skull fractures, a missing tooth…” Hal’s grip started to twist hard against his own arms, something that Greene must’ve noticed when she quickly added, “But thankfully, those are all things that we can fix properly now that he’s here.”

“If that’s the stuff you can fix, then what’s the thing you can’t fix? What’s got you worried?” Greene’s eyes widened a bit, but Hal continued before she could say anything. “I’ve seen how you work. There’s a… look you have when there’s a problem you can’t fix.”

“Well.” She crossed her leg and leaned back, hands crossed and resting on her knee. “Problem number one. Since there aren’t that many Orion in the Federation and the Syndicate isn’t exactly jumping to let us access their databases, there’s a lot that we don’t know about Orion genetics. Problem number two. Genetically, the computer can already tell he’s different from your average Orion. And by average, I mean you and the handful of Orions we have in Starfleet.” She cast a brief glance through her window into the rest of the medbay, smiling forlornly when she caught sight of one of her nurses keeping Arrin company and… getting a laugh out of him. Damn.

“Which is where the problem is.” Hal had a decent enough grasp on medicine as it intersected with first aid, physiology and kinesiology, but genetics was a step too far for him. “So… he was born to just be smaller? That’s not so bad.”

“…Problems three and four. Malnourishment aside, he’s about two size classes too small for an Orion his height and age. …And his wounds take about twice as long to heal on their own as the average Orion.”

“…So he’s small and a slow healer. It’s… not good, but it’s not fatal or anything… right?” Hal tried to lock with Greene’s gaze, but she was trying hard to keep just to the left of anywhere Hal was trying to meet her.

“That’s what I’m hoping the computer will tell me. I tasked it to scrape the usual databases, but Starfleet Medical’s already come up with empty. Now I’m hoping that some fringe research in a far-flung colony or field hospital will turn something up.” She stood from her chair, came around her desk, and leaned against it with her arms crossed. “Before I give you the wrong idea, I’m not in panic mode here. Nothing suggests to me that this genetic condition is fatal. What I do know is that you should probably ditch any plans of conscripting him onto your team. Physically he’s weak, and we won’t know the full extent without prolonged observation. Which on that note… did you settle up with the Captain about keeping him aboard? Becoming his guardian?”

Hal shifted at the question, scratching at the back of his head. “…Paperwork’s a bitch and a half to tackle, and of course it comes with no guarantees. But… Captain thinks all signs are pointing to yes. I’m already moving things around in my quarters. Hiding the good cutlery- well, ALL the cutlery. For now at least. That sort of thing.”

Greene chuckled softly. “Smart. Well, here’s hoping he gets to hang around. If nothing else, I want to keep an eye on him, track his development in a healthy environment. If the computer comes up empty, then maybe I can at least plot a trajectory to what this genetic condition might do to him. …Hal, I’m not going to lie to you. I don’t know how big of an undertaking this might be. Could get rough. You sure you’re up for it? Because if you’re not, it’d be better for him to get a guardian who’ll see it through from the start.”

A cold shock rode up Hal’s spine. He knew he’d have to commit 110%, but for Greene to point it out was an extra slap from reality to what was coming next. “…Doctor. If you end up telling me that his only hope for a good life is in the Delta Quadrant, I’d have a Borg transwarp conduit strapped to a shuttle before you finished your sentence.” He let off a long, slow exhale through his nostrils. “I can’t fix every life that Jaggav screwed up, but I can try my best with the one that’s right in front of me.” He looked out the window, reflexively smiling and waving when his eyes met Arrin’s. He continued to smile as he talked, not wanting to tip off Arrin that anything was wrong. “Nutrition intake, environmental settings, tell me everything he needs and I’ll be sure he gets it.”

Greene chuckled and looked to Arrin too, joining Hal as they both waved and smiled.“Anybody ever tell you that you could’ve been either the best or the strictest babysitter?”

Hal snorted. “Yeah, right. Y’know, my old dormmates at the Academy used to play some old game… Dungeons and Dragons? They used to call me an Orc, and apparently Orcs eat kids. I doubt anybody would’ve trusted me with a kid.”

“Their loss. God knows they wouldn’t have found anybody else more dedicated to their kid’s wellbeing. …Just be sure to take a breath now and then, Hal. And don’t forget, the ship’s got your back. You might be doing most of the work, but you won’t be alone in this.”

“…Thanks, Doc. That means a lot.”

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Cosmos

Part Three


Hal stared at the PADD sitting lifeless just across the table, unsure how long it had been since he recorded a personal log. Two weeks? Three? Time was stretching and contracting as one large blur, his mind sifting through past traumas, present dilemmas, and future complications. He at least remembered that Hal and Arrin’s one month “anniversary” of cohabitating was coming up; Hal had the idea to celebrate it in some small way but Serris, wise little blueberry that he was, helped the Orion see the wisdom of how overbearing that might be. And overbearing was certainly the last thing he wanted to be. True, Hal benefitted greatly from a pair of ‘found family’ mothers who embodied the very essence of helicopter parenthood, but he knew that not everyone who grew up like he did might react the same way. And with Arrin, he just had a… feeling, that he needed to play it safer. Slower. Gentler.

His gaze drifted to the door of Arrin’s bedroom, a cold steel slab that hadn’t yet hissed to life this evening. Though he was trying not to hover, that didn’t stop Hal from memorizing the details and routines he was observing; case in point, Arrin usually came out around this time to quietly ask for some sort of meal from the replicator and quickly retreat back to his room. But this time-

As if the door knew Hal was aware of its break in routine, it hissed and parted as a thin, lanky green teen hurried through the threshold, replicator-bound like clockwork. But not today. Hal drew a deep breath and offered a small, but friendly wave. “Evening, Arrin. Feeling hungry, I take it?”

The teen froze like a burglar caught in a motion light, fingers clenching into fists as his chin barely tilted in Hal’s direction. “I… yes. I’m sorry, you were about to use it weren’t you… I don’t… I can just…” Arrin’s back foot rolled back on his heel as he took a cautious step back, a signal that drew a small frown out of Hal… which clearly didn’t put Arrin at ease as he froze again. He straightened up and fully turned to face the larger Orion, wringing his hands as he stood silent.

Hal wanted to smile, but that wasn’t quite the right response here. Even expression, gentle tone, slow and non-aggressive motions, that was the way to go. He steadily rose from his seat, and took a step back away from Arrin and the replicator. “It’s okay, I didn’t need the replicator. But I did want to talk to you before you ate.”

“I’ve been using it too much, haven’t I?” Arrin was quick to cut Hal off. “I’m sorry, there’s just… a lot of options, and I was curious. But if I’m using it too much, if it’s costing you too many resources, I can stop!” The teen’s words were a punch to the gut for Hal, recalling what it was like working under Jaggav. He could almost taste the blood in his mouth that often came with a meal he had to earn by beating his own crewmates. And how quick Arrin was to assume there was a problem and apologize… clearly he’d had to resort to words and pleas to fix problems that his frail body couldn’t.

Hal could feel his pulse quickening as a flash of hate for Jaggav rippled across his skin. He swallowed and shook his head, “Arrin. At ease, you’re not in trouble. You using the replicator isn’t causing anybody any trouble. Well.” He snorted and smirked a little, risking a small joke to start putting Arrin at ease. “Maybe just a bit of trouble for me, but not through any fault on your part.” That drew a perplexed look from the teen, one of the few instances where he didn’t seem nervous, upset, or some degree of unsettled. “Here’s the thing. It’s been brought to my attention that, although a replicator can meet your nutritional needs, you’re not really getting the best culinary experience possible on board this ship. Sooooo… I was wondering if you felt up to a trip down to Café Estrella.”

Arrin’s brows scrunched together, leaving Hal wondering for a moment whether the universal translator didn’t convey the restaurant’s name correctly. “Café… Estrella?” Is that what your crew calls the mess hall? Or… does all of Starfleet call their mess halls that?"

Hal chuckled, "Definitely not. You would be hard pressed to find a place like Estrella on any other starship, except maybe a luxury starliner. My partner went a bit off the deep end in designing the place. Hal took a look out the window to the infinite stars beyond, a sense of serenity settling on him. “I haven’t told him this, but I think he could be an amazing architect if he ever decided to leave Starfleet.”

“Partner…?” Arrin’s gaze was fixed on the larger Orion, but he at least allowed his body to relax and ease its upright stance. “There are two Chiefs of Security? Or do you mean your second in command?”

Hal looked back with a glance, perplexed how Arrin reached either of those conclusions. “Uh… no, neither. Do you remember Serris? Short, blue, wears a skirt with his uniform?”

“The Chief Engineer!” Arrin blurted in a moment of unbridled enthusiasm, but quickly bowed his head and muttered a subdued ‘sorry.’

Hal chuckled; it figured that someone as bright as Arrin would remember someone by their work than by their name. “Yep, that’s the one. He’s my partner, he designed the restaurant on board the ship. And he’s made it pretty clear to me that I’m doing you a disservice by not treating you to a properly cooked meal. Hence the trouble, he keeps nagging me that I need to treat you to some better food.” He had closed his eyes as he smiled, but opened them again once he’d heard Arrin wince. He looked down and saw that the teen had dropped to his knees and was bowing to him.

“I’m so sorry that it’s caused a rift between you two. I will go anywhere that you tell me to, I don’t want to cause you any more trouble sir.”

“Whoa, hey now…” He knelt in front of Arrin, his large hands eclipsing the teen’s much smaller shoulders and frame. Arrin shuddered at his touch, signaling Hal to quickly back off. He rolled back on the floor and sat, crossing his legs. “…Arrin. Please look at me.” The teen sucked in a breath, shivering as he obliged. “You haven’t caused any problems. No one is mad at anyone, not even you. Especially not you.” Hal sighed and leaned forward. “Saying that he was nagging me… just a bad joke on my part. I’m sorry. But I promise, no one’s mad. Okay?”

Arrin rolled off his knees and sat to one side. “…Okay. Sorry. And sorry for saying sorry. And-”

“Stop.” Hal chuckled softly. “I don’t have a scientific mind like you and my partner do, but I know how to spot a feedback loop. You’ll be here all night if you keep that up, and I don’t know about you but I’m pretty hungry. So… if you’re up for a trip outside these quarters…?”

Arrin looked toward the door leading out to the main corridor, silent for almost a full minute as he weighed factors that Hal could only guess. “…What sort of work do I need to perform to repay the better food they serve there?”

“None. We don’t force people to work so they can eat, it’s just a basic right in the Federation. That being said… if you feel you need to pay it back somehow, I’d settle for some conversation while we eat. After all, we should probably talk about your future, huh?”

“…Do we have to?” He curled up a bit. “I think that’s a pretty short and simple conversation. Starfleet will do… something Jaggav and the rest, and I’ll go away too.”

“…Maybe. Probably, one day, you’ll go away from here. But you know what? When you do go away, it’s not gonna be because of what Jaggav made you do.” Arrin looked up. “It’ll be because you found a new path in life, and you’re off to walk it with your head held high.” Hal was the first to rock up and off the floor, and extended a hand to help Arrin up. “But before that can happen, I think we’ll need to have many, many conversations about it over the best food this side of Risa. Wouldn’t you agree?” Hal smirked.

Arrin stared at the large green hand in front of him, and a mousy smile played across their lips as he took it. “I would.”

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