Veytan,

I’m sorry it’s been so long since I last wrote to you, to be honest, it’s been pretty hectic these past few months. I hope you’ll read this with an open heart, I’d hate to think you were as mad at me as Mother is. You are the one who taught me to think for myself after all.

Tonight we finally got a little downtime. Humans call this New Year’s Eve, a celebration of one year ending and another beginning. Although like most human traditions it is a bit silly, this one I can kind of get behind. They use it as an opportunity to reflect, set intentions for the next year, and toast to what was and what is to come.

I’m sure you’ve heard through Mother’s network that I have been assigned to a Federation starship. I enjoyed my time at Starbase Bravo, but I feel like serving aboard a ship is my true calling. It’s certainly far removed from the gilded corridors of our complex on Coridan, but it definitely suits me better. You know I never felt at home… now I actually do. I’m serving aboard the USS Vallejo, it’s an older ship so it keeps me busy, but I really love it.

So, a lot of the crew have been preparing for tonight’s celebrations all week. Humans love to make lists of grandiose goals and resolutions that they will undertake in the following year. I’ve been told they mostly abandon them within a few months.  Dante, our ship’s chef, prepared a dessert to suit as many species as possible, a Rigellian spice soufflé. He proudly assured me it would have just enough bite to satisfy an Orion palate, but when I tasted it, I could tell he’d dulled the spices for the humans. I teased him about it, and he promised to make me authentic Lia’hur Shal’kurra the next time we can get fresh Xiqai onboard.

Most of the crew were drinking synthale, lucky for me I was able to secure a crate of Mandisa before I came onboard The Vallejo. I find myself torn between participating fully and watching from the fringes, a sensation that I imagine you know all too well. I’ve made friends here, REAL friends, not people looking to curry favor with our Mother and our House. There are no scheming whispers, no veiled threats, and luckily no assassination attempts.

There is one person in particular I think you’d like, Renn Tanara, our conn officer. She’s a Bajoran, and she’s become something of a partner in crime for me. I introduced her to Mandisa tonight. Well, I tried to. She was curious when she saw me sipping it instead of the synthehol everyone else was drinking. I told her it was an Orion delicacy, reserved for special occasions, and offered her a sip.

Veytan, I’ll never forget the look on her face. She took the tiniest sip, barely enough to coat her tongue, and immediately turned a shade of red brighter than the bussard collector. She coughed, her eyes watered, and she started fanning her mouth as though that would extinguish the fire. I warned her it wasn’t for the faint of heart. She waved me off and swore she could still feel her taste buds “vibrating.” I teased her and told her she was lucky I didn’t bring out the Kreel’va from my personal stash.

But this ship and my crewmates have really become my refuge. I enjoy my work, and there is always plenty of it. The Vallejo’s warp matrix is a bit temperamental. Valis, our Chief Engineer, says it’s “adequate,” but I’ve spent more hours than I care to admit adjusting the harmonic coils to keep the engine humming. Here, I’m judged by my abilities, not by our House’s name. Sometimes I admit I miss the comforts of home, not the posturing or displays of wealth and prestige, but the warm nights on the balcony, or walking the streets of Harkoria together. When we would sit and talk for hours. When we were brother and sister and not pawns in the Mother’s designs.

I’m sure she’s fully disowned me by now, her silence to my attempts at communicating speaks louder than any words can. Tell her I still carry our name with pride, not as a chain, but as a reminder of where I come from. I wonder if you might consider stepping out from under her shadow too one day. If you do, I will be here for you in any way you might need.

The chronometer is ticking closer to midnight, so I should go back to the celebration. At the change of day, the humans raise glasses, toast and embrace each other, making wishes for the future. Mine will be simple, that you find your own stars to follow, as I have.

Forever your sister,
Nalara