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Saying goodbye to Makka, Captain Turrel and the others aboard the cargo ship is more difficult than I anticipated. I have spent three months with them, all that time without stepping inside the Continuum. How ironic that I would feel satisfied that long on a starship after years of feeling cooped up on the Enterprise. Nonetheless, I am relieved when we land and I disembark that ship.
To maintain their warrior image, Klingons have elected to keep their homeworld of Q'ronos climate control free, allowing nature to do as she pleases. When I step off the docked cargo ship, carrying only a small away bag, sleet is falling and the wind is gusting. The computer's database tells me that Q'ronos has long winters. I am a Q and not affected by even the most extreme weather, but not wanting too much attention, I find a secluded spot and click my fingers, producing a long wool coat.
"I am Ga'cho from the House of Kavu,"a tall jovial Klingon with missing front teeth says as I secure a shuttlecraft for only five hundred credits from him. I give him directions to Alexander's house. "You are of the House of Mogh, then?" he asks.
I hesitate, probing him for any signs of bitterness toward my Klingon family. "Yes. He was my grandfather."
"Ah, if only he'd lived long enough to have known you. He was a great warrior and could have taught you much about honor."
I refrain from saying I have my father for that. Instead, I say, "I'm only half Klingon."
"I can see that. As far as I'm concerned it makes no matter if your blood is pure as long as your heart is."
I sense that he is prejudiciously favoring me based on his experiences with Mogh. Can I live up to his image of me?
I ask him how he lost his teeth and he is more than eager to share his tale. "I was battling the House of Mes'ka," he says.
"Other Klingons?" I ask, remembering father's discord with the House of Duras. No wonder Klingons have often been at the brink of civil war.
"They dishonored themselves through forgery and beguilement." He points toward the passenger seating. "You better buckle up. The inertial dampeners have been giving me fits!"
After I am secure in my seat, Ga'cho continues his story as he prepares the craft for flight. "My brothers, my cousins, we were all victorious in putting the House of Mes'ka in their place. No one will deal with them again. They have lost everything."
"But you lost your front teeth. Why have you not gone to a doctor to replace them?"
"I wear all my battle scars proudly. The teeth are setting on my bureau to remind me of our victory."
He lifts off and takes the craft up to Mach two in seconds. Although a starship travels astronomically faster, the tiny size of this craft coupled with the low altitude gives me the sensation of traveling many times faster than I ever have. It is exhilarating watching the trees and houses zoom by.
The driver slows down as we near the coordinates to Alexander's house and a moment later, we descend toward a two-story brick house with empty flower beds and bushes throughout the landscape. During the warm months, it must be a stark contrast to the other homes we pass along the way. Most Klingons believe that one should live with only the barest necessities, because it toughens them for battle. Being half-Klingon and with battle experience, I should fit right in with their culture.
How, then, will I fair with my peace-activist brother?
After thanking the driver, I step out of the small craft and walk up to the front of the house. A bit nervous about announcing myself, I take a minute to get a closer study of the yard, even sticking my hand inside one of the pots to feel the hard, cold dirt. Suddenly, I have a strong desire to have another garden like the one on Betazed. Maybe if I stay here long enough....
The door flies open and a very-pregnant Rosa appears. "Shannara!" she exclaims.
I am held speechless by her appearance. I had not expected to find her so far along with her pregnancy. Why, I do not know. I haven't seen her or Alexander since shortly after the birth of their first daughter. It's difficult keeping in touch when your parents' careers take you to the far reaches of the galaxy. Even while I was stationary on Earth, there were still a few hundred light years between us.
"I didn't realize you were arriving today. I would have prepared a room for you. Come in." She takes my hand inside hers and leads me into the living room. I set my bag down just inside the door. "Let me take your coat." After I slip out of the garment, Rosa retreats to the hallway for a moment to hang it in the closet. When she returns, she points at my bags and says, "You travel light."
I shrug. I left Data's in a hurry and I haven't accumulated much since."
"I'm afraid I don't fully understand what went on between you and Professor Data. We really need to improve our communications. Alexander and I know so little about what has happened to you in the past couple of years...and I'm not inclined to believe all the rumors I've heard."
I utter a non-committal, "oh?" Still, I stare at her unsure what to say. It has been years since we last met and I had been more like my parents' shadow at the time. I don't know how to interact with her. Have I made a mistake coming here?
Suddenly, two girls come running down the stairs, the younger one chasing the other. The oldest daughter, five-years old, is clutching a hand-held game and raising it above her head, just out of her little sister's reach. "It's my turn!" the three-year old exclaims. "It's not fair. You're a filthy targ!"
"Girls, girls," Rosa says, holding her arms out to stop them. "Can't you see we have a guest?"
The children look in my direction, noticing me for the first time. Their eyes widen in a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Both are wearing their dark hair in braids and their high foreheads reveal their ridges, less pronounced than my own. I gently probe them on the surface, not enough to be overly obtrusive, but enough to decide how to approach them.
"Hi, I'm your Aunt Shannara," I say, finally finding my voice. Smiling down at them, I hope they will realize I mean them no harm and will soon see me not as a stranger. "I'm going to be staying with you for a while. Would you like that?"
"Another girl," the older child says, giggling. "Daddy's still the only boy." Her sister mocks the giggle and covers her mouth in embarrassment. Good. They are beginning to relax around me.
"Yes, Keh-Keh," Rosa says with a smile. "But Daddy won't mind. He'll be thrilled that his sister has finally shown up for a visit. Why don't you girls set the dinner table while I show Shannara the guest room and help her get settled in." She gingerly takes the game from her older daughter's hand. "And I think this can be put away for the evening." The girls groan in protest, but their mother's stern expression soon quiets them. "You will be too busy making your aunt feel welcome to play games."
Studying Rosa's strong, matronly features, I remember a time, upon our first meeting, when my own mother had not liked Rosa for reasons I could not understand. Mother had been opposed to Alexander's marriage to Rosa and had not softened toward her daughter-in-law until after the birth of their first daughter.
Whatever Rosa did, could it have been as bad as my own betrayal? I never worked up the courage to ask mother about this and wonder if enough time has passed to broach the subject with Rosa. After I have settled in here, I will ask her, I vow to myself as uniform pick up my away bag and follow her toward the stairway.
I smile as she leads me up the stairs, thinking that maybe my stay here will be more pleasant than I had anticipated.
"It's the room farthest down the hall." She points to our far right. "I hope that's all right. If not, Alexander and I could swap..."
"No," I interrupt. I don't want her to feel as though she has to give anything up for me. "I'm sure it'll do me just fine. I don't want to put you out in your own home."
She grasps me by both arms right outside the door. "You're family. I want this to be as much your home as it is ours. I'm afraid the spare room is rather small, though," she says apologetically as she opens the door. "With another baby coming, we have been thinking about moving into a larger house. After I step inside, she braces herself against the doorway, obviously tired from the excess weight.
The room is about ten by nine with a window on the north wall. It is scarcely furnished with a twin-size bed and a small dresser. There is no replicator, a commodity I've never been without. I walk up to the bed and set my bag down on it. "It's bigger than the room I bedded in on board the cargo ship." I admit, not bothering to mention my disappointment about the lack of a replicator. I will manage.
"I don't know how you stood such cramped quarters for so long." I sense curiosity within her and know she is thinking about the power of the Q.
"Sometimes, I'm tempted to just click my fingers and dis.."
Suddenly, a toddler starts crying and I fix my sister-in-law with puzzlement. I had thought she was having her third child, not her fourth! Have I been out of touch for that long? I realize suddenly that three years have passed since I transported off the Enterprise.
I sense Rosa vacillating between wanting to hear my side of the story of the Continuum and the need to tend to her child. "That would be Natalie, awake from her nap and hungry for dinner." Rosa turned and walked down the hall to fetch her toddler.
Curiously, I follow her into a room obviously shared by all three children. There are two small beds, unmade, on either side of the north window. A crying child is bouncing inside the crib setting just inside the door opposite the other beds. She raises her arms in anticipation of her mother. As Rosa picks up a child of about fifteen months, I say, "Why haven't you turned the spare bedroom into a second room for the kids? They need more space."
"We would have except we've had too many guests in the past few years." I frown, feeling more like an imposition. "But they were all welcome," Rosa reassures me. "Alexander and I believe that by housing diplomatic guests, we help our cause for peace along. I only wish we had more to offer." She shrugs. "Hopefully soon."
In that instance, I want to click my fingers and change the universe for Rosa. She obviously cares so much for others to the point of leaving herself wanting. I watch her cuddling her third daughter, see the contented smile on her face and rethink my interpretation. Even in a high-tech universe, not everyone lives for material things.
"I bet you're hoping for a boy this time. Poor Alexander's surrounded by girls!"
"Actually, we are only concerned with having a healthy baby who will be brought up with proper values and not a warrior-like attitude."
"You and Alexander certainly believe in challenging yourselves. How difficult it must be for you, living on Q'ronos."
"It is difficult at times," she admits, "but we must set an example for the Klingon people. We can't do that hiding from our fears." She pats the little girls bottom gently, checking if she is soaked. "Really, there is no better place than Q'ronos to make our point." She places her youngest daughter on a changing table and after securing a fresh diaper on the child, tells me, "We better check up on the older two. Make sure they're ready for dinner and not at war again." I find the comment ironically funny. Keeping the peace must start with the family.
As we descend the stairs, I think to ask, "Where is Alexander? Out maintaining the peace in the neighborhood?"
"Ha! Let's hope so. He'll be home soon. If only he'd realized you were coming today, I'm sure he would have postponed today's address."
"I don't want either of you to change your schedule for me. If you did and a war broke out because my brother wasn't there to negotiate a truce, I'd feel awful guilty."
"Nonsense. You're family. Peace begins by setting a good example within the family," she says as if she'd heard my thoughts minutes ago."
As we reach the downstairs, we find the two older girls sitting at the table with four places set at the table and one in a high chair. "Did you forget we have a guest for dinner?" their mother inquires.
"Oops!" the oldest exclaims, bringing her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle. She jumps out of her seat to order another setting from the replicator. As I watch her, I recall that Rosa and Alexander named her Keh'leyr after his mother. She even looks a bit like her grandmother, I muse, having seen pictures of father's first love.
When she returns with the extra setting, her mother says, "thanks, Keh-Keh." Rosa places her youngest daughter inside the high chair. "Now the most difficult decision of the day: What shall we eat?"
As if on queue as the family decision maker, my big brother walks through the front door. "Shannara!" he says, rushing to my side to embrace me. "It has been too long, sister."
Again, I am struck speechless...this time by my big brother! He has filled out in the chest and his long hair is flowing loosely across his shoulders and he still sports a goatee. Physically, he matches the description of a stout Klingon warrior and yet his personality, the sparkle in his eyes and his excitability over seeing me again, belie that stereotypical nature.
"How was your flight in? You must have traveled at Warp 10 to get here so early."
"Just eager to see you, big brother," I say with a smile and I know that my avoidance of him has been for naught. My dear brother would forgive me for anything. If anyone can help me regain the tranquility in my life, Alexander is the one.
"And to taste some of Rosa's cooking," he jokes. I know full well that they replicate their meals like the majority of technologically advanced people, but I nod in agreement anyway.
"Speaking of which," Rosa says with a smirk, "what would you like me to *cook* today?"
"How about pork chops, baked red potatoes, split-eyed peas and dinner rolls. For desert, cherry pie ala mode."
Earth foods. Why am I not surprised? Thanks to father's coaxing over the years, I've tried every Klingon dish ever invented and must admit I too prefer the less acerbic taste of human cuisines.
"Yay! We get to have desert tonight," little Keh'leyr says, clapping her hands. With a cheerful cry, Natalie mimics her big sister's hand clapping.
Rosa gets up and moves past me, heading for the replicator.
Noticing her clutching at her lower back, I offer, "Let me help you," and start to get up.
She places a hand on my shoulder. "That's all right. You stay put and catch up with your brother," she insists. "I managed through three other pregnancies. I can see this one through without becoming an invalid."
"Catch up with each other," I say with a shrug. "Where do I start? I feel so out of touch." Do I tell him about my adventures inside the Continuum or the last three months living a life as a menial laborer working on an itinerant ship? I ring my hands until Alexander places his atop them. Meeting his gaze, I long for the days when the sight of my brother overwhelmed me with bouts of giggles. "I'm sure mother and father have told you all about why I left the Enterprise and I doubt hearing my side of the story would change your opinion of me any."
"For such a skilled empath, you reach faulty assumptions. I'm welcoming you into my home, allowing you to stay for as long as you want. You're my sister and I believe peace and love should begin with family."
Rosa and the girls return to the table with our dinner in time to hear my brother's proclamation. "You can count on there being plenty of family around here," Rosa says.
I realize, to them, the idea of peace has taken on a religious quality. They want to see the end of war, not only with other races, but also among their own kind. Their goal is not so different from Q's vision for the Continuum. And maybe because of that similarity, they will understand how I feel. If anyone could empathize with my dilemma, I believe Alexander is the one.
We dish out our plates in silence. Several times, I consider breaking the silence to tell them about my adventures inside the Continuum, to help them understand how wrong Mother and Father are about Q. Why can't I work up the courage? Because I am afraid they will feel the same as every other mortal I have encountered, who view the Q as diabolical creatures vent on destroying the universe.
Breaking the silence, Rosa suggests, "Alex, why don't you invite Shannara to go with you to Breen 7. I'm sure she'd love the chance to learn about your cause first hand."
"Our cause," he corrects. Then turning toward me, "what do you say to that idea? I'd love to have you along. You once helped the Enterprise on a mission."
"The Akodians," I acknowledge.
"Their wormholes have not only made travel across the far reaches of the galaxy possible, but communication and peace negotiations as well. I would not be so close to a resolution with the conflicts between the Klingons and the Breen otherwise.
"What about Rosa? Should she be left here without another adult so close to her delivery date?"
"I've made it through three deliveries just fine. And it's not as though we live in the frontier days. Help is only a transporter beam away."
Of course. I feel so foolish. I've grown accustomed to the power of the Q, that I've forgotten the rest of the universe doesn't function like a colony of insects. "I'd love to go with you, Alexander," I tell him. "You probably have a lot you could teach me."
After dinner, we spend a couple of hours playing games with the children. When their bedtime arrives, I'm delighted when Rosa asks for my help tucking them in. I read them a story and Chel'zoe, the middle child is already asleep midway through the hero rescuing the maiden. The little girls look so blissful asleep, their half-formed ridges angelic. I kiss each of them on the cheek before ordering the computer to lower the lights and leaving their room.
Alexander and Rosa are waiting for me in the hallway, both wearing smiles on their faces. "You're a natural," Rosa says.
"No, I'm not," I argue. "They're well-behaved children. They take after their parents." Silently, I admit that I did enjoy playing with the girls. It would be wonderful to be a mother someday, but would I have time for children if I'm to follow Q?
"I hope you don't mind if Alexander and I call it a night," Rosa interrupts my inward dilemma. "He has an early meeting tomorrow and us pregnant women need all the sleep we can get."
Alexander places an arm lovingly around his wife. "You sleep well, little sister," he tells me.
Momentarily, I am inflicted with the same awkward speechlessness of earlier. "Ah, I don't require sleep," I inform them. I furrow my brow at their confusion. "You didn't know that? It is only one of the powers that Q gave me."
Now it is there turn to be caught speechless.
"Well," I shrug. "I view it as a positive side effect. I get the majority of my reading done at night. Of course, I can still *allow* myself to sleep, like Data."
"Happy reading, then, Shannara," Alexander says. "We'll discuss this more tomorrow...when I'm more awake."
We part, going to our separate rooms. I change into a nightgown, but do not find something to read nor will myself to sleep. Instead, I lay in bed thinking about the evening that has just transpired and whether I could be happy living indefinitely with my brother and his family. None of them would ever complain about my over stepping my welcome. Why, then, can I not picture myself staying here a year from now or even in another six months?
