Names and Stories
Posted on July 23rd, 2016 by T'Lira

T’Lira held the tiny child in her arms and was reminded of holding Taril when he was an infant. She gazed down at the infant she held now and struggled to contain her emotions. She would not cry, not now. It would not do, she must have control.

She reached out with her mind and gently touched the link she had with this child. A part of her was bracing for what was to come, but another part was raging at the universe and cursing the Vulcan telepathy that enabled mothers to form mental bonds with their children before they were even born.

“What shall I name you?” she murmured to the little child she held. He squirmed slightly and she adjusted her grip.

That part of her that was raging at the universe turned the blame inwards, cursing her decision to go into that cave, her decision to stay and help Syvek, but she pushed it away. Scientific curiousity did indeed kill the proverbial cat, but she certainly wasn’t going to start listening to that darker part of herself. So, she instead focused on names.

As he was half-human, it would be logical to honor that with the human naming custom of a first and middle name, but what to name him?

T’Lira could almost feel her train of thought becoming derailed when she took the opportunity to simply gaze down at him, her son.

Had someone told her twenty years ago that she would have lived this life, she likely would have pointed out their illogic. But here she was, holding a dying child that she didn’t want to let go of, led here by her life choices.

She wondered what might have happened if she had chosen to follow her parents’ wishes, or if she had never left Starfleet in the first place, or even if she had never gone into that cave. A person made many choices in their life, and any of them could lead to disaster if given the chance. Clearly, this choice had been given the chance for disaster and had taken it.

The baby… no, her son squirmed again ever so slightly and she turned her attention to him. She knew she didn’t have long, but she didn’t want to let go so soon. She needed to focus and find a name for him, so he didn’t… no, she would not think of that right now. She refused to dwell on what was to come.

She had never been good at naming anything. During her time out of Starfleet, she’d had a dog, a small Yorkshire Terrier. She had elected to name it Fido, something which had been the butt of many jokes since.

And again, her train of thought returned to a dominant thought: she didn’t want to let go. At that moment, the reality of the entire situation hit her.

She was here, holding her dying child in her arms and so utterly helpless. She blinked furiously, trying to stave off the utterly illogical tears.

A name. He needed a name. That was the focusing point, the rest would come later.

A middle name came to her easily, as it was fitting to name him after one of her oldest friends. The first took some time, but then she remembered how her forefather had encouraged her. Until his death some fifteen years ago, he had been the only person in her family who openly encouraged her career in Starfleet, regardless of what her parents said.

“Sevrek Edward. How fitting,” she said quietly, looking down at him.

At that moment, she decided to make the most of what time she had with him. Even if it was spent telling stories, however illogical it was to speak to a being who could not respond.