First contact with the Daranaeans brought guilt to the humans who made that contact, as they saw, first-hand, an oppressive hierarchical society. Now the Federation was having them make a second contact. Could it get any worse?
Star Trek
Enterprise
Take Back the Night
A Star Trek Fan Fiction By
J. R. Gershen-Siegel
PG-13- Parents Strongly Cautioned
Some material may be not be appropriate
for children under 13
TrekUnited Publishing
This is a fan written work
The copyrights & trademarks of Star Trek are owned by
Paramount Pictures, CBS Corporation and their licensee, Pocket Books. Any attempt to sell or rent this book should be reported to the copyright owners for their action
Published for TrekUnited by
L'Stok Press
1
You say you want a revolution? – Lennon/McCartney
"No."
"No?"
"I said no," said the female.
"You cannot," said the male.
"I said no!"
There was a hard blow, and a body fell.
=/\=
The children were all in the learning room. All, that is, except for Seppa, for she was a last caste female, and it is said that they don't believe in learning. But the eldest male child heard the sound, and ran over. He was chased by the adult secondary female. Even though she was pregnant, again – for the twelfth time – and pouch feeding another, she did her best to follow him. He was a teenager, about fifteen years of age, and readily outran her.
The other children followed. There was the second-eldest male, who was the secondary's first child. There was the eldest female, who was also the child of the secondary. Then the next four were the remainder of the Prime Wife's children. Then the next seven were more of the secondary's children. Then the next two were the lowest caste woman's children. Then followed a very young female, Minna, toddling along, another child of the secondary. The secondary's last child didn't have to run, of course, for she was firmly ensconced in her mother's – the secondary's – pouch.
Breathless, the eldest male smacked the door panel with a hand that had rust-colored fur on its back. The door slid open and the eldest male gasped. The lowest caste female lay on the floor, orange blood oozing from one temple on the side of her white-furred foxlike face. She was not moving.
The secondary caught up and hesitated before entering, but the children ran in before her. She felt compelled to collect them. "Arnis, a thousand apologies," she said, brindle-furred head bowed.
He looked up, a little nonplussed. "Clean this up," he commanded.
"Father," asked the eldest male child, "what if her fetus was a boy child?"
The question hung in the air for a moment. That could not just be carried out like the trash. "We will, we will get the authorities, I suppose. It was, you will see that it was justified. They are not permitted to refuse."
"Mistra," Arnis said, "you and Cria clean up in here. Everyone else must leave."
"Yes, Arnis," the secondary female said, and her eldest girl child helped her as they mopped up the blood and rested the dead woman – Inta – carefully on the floor.
"Oh, and Mistra?" Arnis said.
"Yes?" said the secondary female, looking up from her task briefly.
"You will stay in here tonight for relations, now that Inta is …."
"Yes, Arnis," Mistra went back to what she had been doing and her hand trembled a little. Cria held her hand a little to get her to stop.
Arnis left the room and the door closed. It was just Cria and Mistra. Cria said, "Mama is this how it is?"
"Yes. This is how it will be when you are sold to your husband as a secondary. But some are not so hot-tempered. I pray you end up with one of them."
=/\=
Doctor Rechal came quickly. "That is the lowest caste, Arnis," he sniffed as soon as he saw the body.
"Understood, and worthless for refusing relations. Still, my son Vidam is wondering if she was carrying a boy child."
"This will be a very different matter if she was carrying a boy child," Doctor Rechal said, "Where is Dratha?"
"My Prime Wife is out for the day."
"Very well. I will check right now. But if I find it was a boy child, well, you know the consequences," Rechal shook his grey spotted head.
He went outside to the garden and plucked a sprig of an herb from a boxy hedge and brought it back. He swabbed the inside of the dead woman's mouth with it, to catch what remained of her saliva. The leaves turned an ashy grey. He looked up at Arnis from the floor.
"What does this mean?" Arnis asked.
"Call Dratha and have her come home at once, for I must call the authorities. Inta was carrying a boy child, and I believe they will charge you with fetal murder."
=/\=
"I have to go!" Commander Reed exclaimed, but he was laughing when he said it and didn't really mean it.
The picture on the viewer was priceless. His son, Declan, was covered in pancake flour. The little fellow was only three and a half, and had taken it upon himself to somehow make breakfast. He had figured out how to get the flour and that he needed a wooden spatula. After that, he had apparently become somewhat lost in the recipe's details and had proceeded to rap the kitchen floor with the spatula while occasionally tossing small handfuls of flour on the floor in front of and behind him. The still photograph captured him in mid-rap and flour was flying in the air all around him.
"Now, Declan," Malcolm Reed said, as the viewer picture changed and it was the familiar scene of his son and the boy's mother, "you are very kind to be helping Mummy but I think you should leave the breakfasts to her, at least until you're four."
"Da-addy! Pancake!"
"Oh, that's a new word," Malcolm said, "I'm sorry I'm missing that."
"It's what we both figured would happen when we had him," said the boy's mother, "You'll be back soon, though, right? I've got lots and lots of artwork to give you. And I miss you like crazy."
"Yes, I will, my love," Malcolm said. There was a Communications chime. "Sorry, but now I really must leave. My best to everyone. I love you both."
"Bye-bye, Daddy!"
Malcolm answered the chime. "Yes?"
"Malcolm, I need you in the main conference room," said Captain Jonathan Archer, "there's a message coming in from Admiral Gardner."
"On my way, sir. Reed out."
The USS Zefram Cochrane's entire Bridge crew was present. Malcolm – the First Officer and Armory/Tactical Man – took his place next to Captain Archer. They had worked together on the old NX-01 – the Enterprise – but that ship had gone to a museum. It had been the first Warp Five vessel. But the Cochrane – DC-1500 – was a Warp Six ship, in the brand spankin' new Defense class. It had a cloak and everything. Compared to the Enterprise, most of the rooms, even the brig, were like ballrooms.
The remainder of the Bridge crew was present – Communications Officer Lieutenant Commander Hoshi Sato, Pilot Lieutenant Travis Mayweather and Science Officer Ensign Lucy Stone.
Lucy was new, replacing the Vulcan T'Pol, who had gone back to her home world when the NX-01 was decommissioned. Rounding out the group were Chief Medical Officer Doctor Phlox and Chief Engineer Jennifer Crossman Ramirez. Jennifer had been promoted when Tripp Tucker had died and, truth be told, so had Malcolm. Jonathan had been planning on making him a Commander but it was Tripp who was supposed to be the First Officer on the Cochrane. But things had not turned out that way, and so Malcolm, who had recently returned from paternity leave, was made First Officer instead.
"On screen, please," Jonathan said to Hoshi. She fiddled with controls and Admiral Gardner's face appeared in a split screen with a similar conference room on the DC-1502, the Excelsior.
"I'm glad I've got everyone," Gardner said, "We have an interesting situation. The end of the Romulan War didn't just help us bring together the Coalition of Planets, which is now called the Federation, as you all know. In addition, it exposed other threats. With the relatively recent loss of the N'Vak Colony, the Klingons are looking to expand."
"I thought you said Romulans," Jonathan said, "are they working together now?"
"I think they're giving each other a wide berth," Gardner replied, "but they are definitely working in concert, even if it's informally. It's like they want to approach us and our allies from both sides and slowly contract the area around us."
"A pincer movement, much like Daniel Morgan used at the Battle of Cowpens in the American War of Independence?" Malcolm asked. His counterparts on the DC-1502, First Officer Hamilton Roget and Tactical Officer Stacey Young, nodded in agreement.
"Precisely," Gardner replied, "but things are a bit different now."
"I imagine they would be," Captain Erika Hernandez of the DC-1502 replied, "how so?"
"There's a system that's asking for our help. They're located near the Klingon-Romulan border. There's a planet called Khitomer nearby. But this other world, they don't want to just let the Klingons or the Romulans roll over them. I think we've got a tremendous chance to not only make friends but to really drive a wedge in there and prevent the Klingons and the Romulans from ever making an effective pincer formation. These people are reportedly very loyal. If we get them on our side now, I'd say we'd have allies for a very long time."
"What's the name of this planet?" Lucy asked.
"Daranaea."