Echoes of Blood Pt 8

Posted on 19 Jan 2026 @ 4:25am by Lieutenant Aev Flammia

2,231 words; about a 11 minute read

Mission: Echoes of Blood
Location: Corvanis IV
Timeline: 1 Week Previous

[Corvanis IV]

Even dulled, Aev could feel the fear radiating from the Remans around him, a low, pervasive current that prickled at the edges of his awareness. So these were the monsters Skath had warned him about. The Romulan’s smug composure didn’t frighten him. It made him furious.

Aev pressed a steadying hand against his grandfather’s chest, a silent reassurance, then stepped forward. In the corner of his eye, he saw Sam watching him, concern and fear written plainly across her face. “How dare you,” Aev said, his voice tight as his hands clenched at his sides. “This is Federation space. You are committing an act of war.”

The Romulan regarded him with mild curiosity, the smile never leaving his lips. “War?” he echoed softly, as though tasting the word. “How dramatic.” He let out a small, almost weary sigh. “And what of the Federation sheltering war criminals?” His gaze drifted lazily to the Remans behind Aev. “What would you call that, I wonder?” He spread his hands slightly. “Tell me, would the Federation truly go to war over Remans?” His eyes flicked skyward, thoughtful. “Even if I were to slaughter every last one of them?” The smile sharpened. “No,” he said gently. “They wouldn’t. Not for this.”

His attention returned to Aev, studying him with sudden interest. “Would they… young Romulan?” Then his gaze slid past him, settling on Skath. The amusement deepened into something colder. “…So,” he said, voice almost fond, “this is my nephew.” The word nephew hung in the air.

Aev felt the cold settle into him all at once, sharp, invasive. A transferred memory surfaced unbidden: his biological father speaking once, vaguely, of a brother. The implication clicked into place with sickening clarity. Uncle.

Skath stepped forward before Aev could speak. “Rhal,” he said, the name heavy with history. “You cannot have him. We will not allow you to take him.”

Rhal closed his eyes and exhaled, as though enduring a familiar inconvenience. “You make this so exhausting,” he replied mildly. “I have no intention of taking him.” His gaze flicked back to Aev, almost appraising. “He is my nephew.” He lifted a hand, casual, dismissive. “I merely wish to speak with him. Privately.” His eyes swept the gathered Remans, noting the hands hovering near disruptors with detached interest. “And I have no desire to kill any of you,” he added pleasantly. “Unless, of course, you insist on making very poor decisions.”

Rhal’s attention returned to Aev, sharper now, more focused. “So. You’re Starfleet.” A faint frown creased his brow. “How… unexpected.” Then the frown eased, replaced by something almost indulgent. “Well, nephew,” he said softly. “What do you say? Will you grant me a moment of your time?” The question was framed as a courtesy. It was anything but.

This man was dangerous. Aev felt it instinctively, a visceral resistance that tightened his chest even as he forced himself to remain still. With his senses dulled, he could still pick up the emotional residue bleeding off those around them, fear from the Remans, anger and resentment drifting from the distant Romulan soldiers like heat off scorched metal. But Rhal? There was nothing. No echo. No pressure. Just a vast, unnerving absence, like staring into a void that swallowed everything directed at it. Aev didn’t know which was worse: the hatred he could feel from the others, or the complete emotional vacuum standing in front of him. So that’s Rhal, he thought.

Aev glanced at Skath, then inclined his head gently. “I’ll speak with you,” he said evenly. “Give us a private space, Grandfather.” Skath’s expression tightened, worry etched deep into his features. He nodded once, but as he did, Aev felt a heavy thought press into his mind, deliberate and urgent. Do not trust this one, Skath warned. Do not ever trust him.

Rhal regarded Aev for a long moment, the faint curve of his smile never wavering. “Well,” he said lightly, “how very… cooperative of you.” His gaze slid past Aev to Skath, almost indulgent. “You see? No theatrics required.” He inclined his head toward one of the nearby Remans. “If you would.”

Skath gestured to a Reman guard, who stepped forward at once and motioned for them to follow. Rhal turned smoothly and fell into step beside Aev, unhurried, as though this were a courtesy stroll rather than a negotiation held at disruptor-point.

They were led down a short side corridor branching off the main thoroughfare. The passage narrowed quickly, stone walls closing in before opening onto a small, utilitarian chamber, bare save for a single overhead light that cast stark shadows across the floor.

The Reman stepped aside as they entered. With a final, unreadable glance at Aev, he withdrew, and the door slid shut behind them with a muted hiss. Rhal folded his hands behind his back and regarded Aev anew, the smile sharpening just slightly.

“You know,” Rhal said mildly, “I did often wonder where they’d hidden you.” He paced a slow step across the room, hands clasped behind his back. “I invested a truly embarrassing amount of resources trying to find you. I even managed to intercept several of Skath’s people.” He glanced at Aev, expression thoughtful. “Questioned them. Thoroughly.”

A faint shrug. “They all told me the same thing, that you’d fallen ill. That you’d died.” He exhaled softly, something between amusement and disappointment. “So imagine my surprise when one of my observers reported a Romulan arriving here. Violet eyes. Starfleet bearing.” Rhal stopped, studying Aev with open curiosity now. “So tell me,” he said gently, “are you a ghost… or are you truly my nephew?”

“They told me you killed my parents,” Aev said, his voice flat, edged with frost. “So if you’re wondering, consider me a wraith. And if you think I’d willingly speak with the murderer of my parents, you’re mistaken.”

“Did they?” Rhal laughed softly. “Oh, nephew… do you truly believe the Remans would be entirely forthcoming with you?” His smile thinned. “They aren’t wrong, but they are imprecise.”

He sighed, the sound almost regretful. “Your father was killed, yes. Not by me. By a colleague.” A faint frown touched his brow. “He attempted to escape. One of his guards was… overzealous.” A small shake of the head. “Those responsible were dealt with. Harshly, I assure you.”

Then Rhal looked back at Aev, eyes intent. “But your mother?” His smile returned, sharper now. “Quite alive. Very alive. And currently in service to the Free State.” He paused, letting that land. “You see, when I spent all those resources searching for you,” he continued lightly, “it was never for your sake. It was for hers.” His tone warmed with a peculiar satisfaction. “She will be delighted to learn that you survived.”

Alive? The word hit Aev like a sudden gale, scattering his thoughts. Cold fury gave way to disorientation as he studied Rhal, trying to read what couldn’t be felt. There was too much to process, too many revelations layered too quickly.

Skath’s warning echoed in his mind. Do not trust him. Ever.

Was this another manipulation? A carefully placed truth meant to steer him somewhere he didn’t yet see? Aev drew in a slow breath, forcing himself to steady. He couldn’t afford to trust anyone, not the Remans, not Rhal. Not yet. Everything was happening too fast. His mind struggled to keep pace, to sort truth from omission. Had the Remans lied to him? Or had they simply never known? Either way, the possibility remained: this could all be a ploy.

“I don’t trust you,” Aev said at last, his voice even. “And I don’t know you.”

Rhal regarded him for a moment, and then nodded. “As well you shouldn’t,” he said calmly. “Trust is a luxury afforded to people who haven’t survived what we have.” A faint smile touched his lips, more tired than amused. “If you did trust me so easily, I’d be deeply disappointed.”

He tilted his head, studying Aev with something like genuine interest. “You don’t know me. That’s true. Suspicion is the only sensible response.” Rhal’s expression softened, just a fraction. “But understand this, nephew, I’m not asking for your trust. Only your attention. Truth has a way of surfacing whether we welcome it or not.” A pause. “And whether you believe me or not,” he added quietly, “your mother is alive. That fact will not change.”

Rhal reached up, fingers sliding thoughtfully through his hair before plucking out several strands. He held them out toward Aev, palm open. “This should be sufficient to establish that I am, in fact, your uncle.”

A faint smile followed. “And if you would do the same?” he added lightly. “I imagine proof of your survival would be… comforting to your mother. News of your death, you understand, was rather difficult for her.”

Aev studied him in silence. There was every possibility that Romulan intelligence already possessed his genetic profile. If so, this wasn’t necessity. A test, perhaps. Or a gesture meant to signal sincerity. Was there danger in it? He couldn’t see one immediately. And if his biological mother was truly alive… Carefully, he reached up and pulled free a few strands of his own hair, extending them as Rhal accepted the sample.

“Consider this,” Rhal said, slipping the hair into a thin, transparent satchel, “the first plank laid across a very long chasm.” He then produced a small, square device from his pocket and placed it gently into Aev’s hand. “This will allow you to contact me, regardless of where you find yourself. I may not always answer promptly, but I will answer.”

Rhal’s gaze held his, steady and intent. “Let this be the beginning of… a relationship. I have no desire to harm you.” A pause, then a slight, knowing smile. “That would rather defeat the point.” He inclined his head. “Now, what should I call you?”

The question caught Aev off guard. Only then did he realize he’d never given his name, and that Rhal, apparently, didn’t know it. The thought of lying crossed his mind, but he dismissed it almost immediately. The truth would surface soon enough. Deception here would only weaken his position. “I’m Lieutenant Aev Flammia,” he said.

“Flammia,” Rhal repeated, the name clearly resonating. His eyes narrowed slightly, interest sharpening. “Any relation to Max Flammia?”

“Yes,” Aev replied, a subtle unease settling in as he registered the shift in Rhal’s expression, something darker, more intent. “He’s my father. My adoptive father.”

Rhal let out a quiet chuckle. “The universe does enjoy weaving its threads in unexpected ways.” He inclined his head. “I am Senator Rhal tr’Kaelev.” He turned as if to leave. “Consider what I’ve told you. I look forward to hearing from you… eventually, my nephew.”

“Wait,” Aev said.

Rhal paused at the threshold and glanced back, mildly curious. “Yes?”

“You said my father was killed trying to escape,” Aev said carefully. “Why was he a prisoner? Why did the Free State take custody of him, and my mother?”

Rhal regarded him for a long moment before answering. “Your father was a remarkable man,” he said at last. “A senator, yes, but far more gifted as a researcher. He developed technology of considerable importance to the Empire.” His tone remained calm, almost reflective. “Technology we could not permit to fall into unfriendly hands.”

He folded his hands behind his back. “When we sought to secure it, he refused to cooperate. Had he been patient, he might have come to appreciate the wisdom of our position, much as your mother eventually did.” A faint frown crossed his face, something like regret. “His death was… unfortunate.”

Then the moment passed. “But let us not dwell on tragedy,” Rhal said lightly, turning away once more.

They returned to the open square together, Rhal moving with unhurried composure at Aev’s side. The gathered Remans stiffened as they emerged, hands tightening around weapons, eyes tracking every Romulan soldier with barely restrained fury.

Rhal paused, taking in the scene with mild interest, as though observing a familiar tableau rather than standing at the center of a potential massacre. “See?” he said lightly, his voice carrying just far enough to be heard. “Still standing. All of you.” His gaze lingered briefly on Skath, then returned to Aev. “Do take care of him.”

He lifted a hand.

Emerald light flared to life around the Romulans. Transporter beams snapped into place in quick succession, bathing the square in harsh green brilliance. In moments, the armored soldiers were gone, then Rhal as well, his faint, knowing smile the last thing to fade as the light collapsed inward and vanished.

The night rushed back in all at once. Silence followed, heavy, stunned, broken only by the distant rumble of thunder and the low, collective breaths of those who had just survived.

Skath turned to Aev, his expression carved from equal parts relief and dread. Whatever had just passed between uncle and nephew, one truth was now undeniable:

The storm had not ended.

= To be Continued =

Lieutenant Aev Flammia
Chief of Security
USS Arawyn

&

Lieutenant Samantha Dawes (NPC)
Medical Officer & Surgeon
USS Charon

 

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