"Core Relations"
A Star Trek: The Next Generations Story
By Lal Soong
San Francisco 3 Months after "Generations. . ." Stardate 48875.7
Dressed casually with his hair hanging loosely over his shoulders, Worf rehearsed before his mirror. "Deanna, you know how I feel," he began. The Klingon shook his head. "No, that is too corny." He sighed heavily and began again. "Deanna, we've known each other for a long time, but I feel that in the past year we have shared-no, experienced something. . . something. . ." Exasperated, Worf raised a fist. "Why if I can triumph at a bat'leth championship, can I not think of a way to ask a simple question?"
Deep down, he knew why.
"What if she wants to perform the ceremony in the nude?"
Although Deanna was only half Betazoid, she followed the customs of that side of her lineage, and all Betazoid weddings were elaborately conducted in the nude. Her mother, Lwaxana Troi, who was full Betazoid and quite a formidable woman, would certainly demand a traditional Betazoid wedding.
"There is no glory in standing nude in front of an audience."
Although orphaned at age six and adopted by Human parents, Worf followed Klingon traditions. He'd always envisioned himself and a future mate taking the Klingon Oath, a brief ceremony with all participants fully garbed.
"But if I tell her I feel this way, she might say 'no'."
Would it mean the end of their relationship? They would probably receive assignments to different starships, and possibly never see one another again.
"I will do anything to keep from losing her," Worf vowed. "Anything."
"Then you should just come right out and ask her."
Worf turned to see his son standing in the doorway. "Alexander, how long have you been standing there?"
The boy stepped toward his father. "Long enough. Where's your honor? If you don't take chances, then you never triumph."
Staring into his son's eyes, Worf realized the boy who had joined him on the Enterprise was now growing into a young man.
"But she is not Klingon."
"I'm part human. She's part human."
"And part Betazoid."
"That doesn't matter if you love each other."
I do love Deanna, Worf thought with conviction. Admitting that to himself, he suddenly realized he had never told Deanna. As an empath, she certainly knew how he felt, but empathy was no substitute for openness.
"You are right," Worf said. "It should not matter that we are not the same species and that we have cultural differences. Together, we will make our own customs, as a family." He brought his hand to Alexander's ponytail and ran his fingers through the boy's hair. "I must consider your feelings in this matter as well. How would you feel if Deanna became your stepmother?"
"I would be honored." Alexander smiled broadly and hugged his father. "You know I've always liked Sok'cheim," he said, affectionately using the Klingon word, which meant a cross between stepaunt and guardian. "So don't blow it!"
Worf released his grip on his son and grabbed his hair wrap from off the bureau. After slipping it around his hair, he said, "I promised Deanna I would meet her for dinner at Nailor's Bar at seven. I better go." He walked through the door, only to turn around to deliver an afterthought. "Behave while I'm gone."
"I will behave honorably, Father," Alexander replied, smiling mischievously.
"Counselor Troi," twelve-year old Arienna said, approaching her counselor out in the corridor, "my brother and I would like to thank you." The girl opened her hand to reveal a small pin. "We made you this broach."
"Oh, it's lovely," Deanna said, accepting the gift. "I'll wear it to dinner tonight. Thank you." She pinned the ceramic flower to her sweater, then turned to the small boy standing behind Arienna. "Thank you, Josef." After only two weeks of counseling, Arienna's little brother still hadn't overcome his shyness.
"Give her a hug, Josef," Arienna said, nudging the boy. He squirmed away from her.
"Now, Arienna, he doesn't have to if he doesn't feel ready."
To Deanna's surprise, Josef rushed up to her and threw his arms around her waist. She returned the embrace, tears of joy welling up in her eyes. If only I had a few more weeks with him, she thought.
"Well, I see you're saying your goodbyes," Admiral Wilson said as he stepped out of his office.
Josef broke free of the counselor and ran behind his sister for protection.
"Arienna, are all your away bags packed?"
"Yes, sir," the girl replied.
"Good. Lieutenant Maulder will help you take them to Cargo Bay Three." He gestured toward a woman in a gold uniform, who had followed him out. She whisked the children away. Before they reached the turbolift, Arienna turned around to glance at Deanna and projected telepathically, I will miss you.
Fighting back tears, Deanna dabbed at her eyes. Please, just let me be professional about this. "Sir, the boy's finally making progress," she said. "If only I could counsel him another week-"
"We can't care for the children indefinitely. They have a maternal grandmother on Betazed. She can take care of them." The admiral paused, and Deanna could sense that he was contemplating something. "Counselor, I understand your concern. That's why I'm prepared to make you an offer. I'm not going to order you; you may refuse for personal reasons."
"What is it?"
"There's a Starfleet position open for a counselor on Betazed. Officially, you'd be counseling Starfleet officers, but it would provide you the opportunity to check on Josef now and again."
Deanna smiled. "That is a tempting offer. . ."
"But you're involved with Lieutenant Commander Worf."
"Yes. I can't give you an answer without first talking with him about it." Deanna knew she could never ask Worf to give up his career to further her own, but she had to admit the thought of returning home intrigued her.
"Dessert," Nailor said, setting a tray on the table between Deanna and Worf. He lifted the lid.
Worf started to tell the Bolian bartender that they were already overstuffed from the delicious meal, but then he got a look at the mysterious confection. "What is it?" Worf asked the elderly, overweight bartender.
"Mmm. . .definitely chocolate," Deanna said, grinning. She stuck her fingertip into the gelatinous concoction and licked it.
Nailor reached into his pockets and produced two spoons. "You'll each need a spoon, but lovers only need one dish." He plopped the spoons into the dessert. The Bolian bartender was well-known for his bluntness. He turned and left them to enjoy their indulgence-and each other.
"You know, Worf," Deanna said between bites, "we should find out what this is called. Wherever we end up for our next assignment, we need to program it into the replicators."
"Deanna, we need to discuss that matter."
Deanna paused with a spoonful halfway to her mouth. "Oh?"
"Have you considered the possibility that we won't be assigned to the same ship or station?" Worf watched as Deanna's expression changed from one of rapt attention, to one of distance. "Deanna?"
"I'm sorry, Worf," Deanna said, tapping her neck, a Betazoid technique for relieving stress. "I'm sure we could file a special request. Admiral Wilson has a soft spot for romantics."
"Deanna," Worf exclaimed, grasping her free hand. "I love you, and I want to marry you!" He had not realized he would make such a proclamation until he had spoken the words. Deanna's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. "It is true. I do love you."
Deanna stuck her spoon in the half-finished desert and placed her other hand atop Worf's. "I'm glad you finally opened yourself up completely to me, Worf. I've been in love with you for quite some time. You bring excitement to my life, something I didn't realize I was lacking until I had it."
"And you give me balance, something I didn't feel I needed-until I had it."
"It's amazing, isn't it? Just how much we've changed since we met eight years ago. We were completely different people back then. Who would have ever thought?"
"Deanna," he said softly, not understanding why he was so afraid to ask the question again, ". . .Deanna."
"Yes, Worf, I will marry you."
For a brief, awkward moment, Worf was too stunned to reply. "You will? You will!" Reaching into his pants pocket, Worf pulled out the engagement ring he had purchased a week ago. Deanna held out her left hand and eagerly allowed him to slip it on her finger. Worf brought his hands to Deanna's face and leaning over the table, kissed her passionately. When they parted, they broke out into hysterical laughter, realizing they were now wearing their desert.
After changing into clean clothes, Deanna and Worf met inside her quarters to discuss their wedding plans.
"We will, of course, invite all our friends," Worf said as he sat down on the sofa and placed his arm around Deanna. They stared into each other's eyes. She really does want to spend the rest of her life with me.
"And my mother," Deanna said.
"And my parents as well. I'm sure that your mother will want a traditional Betazoid wedding." Worf wondered how he would handle Lwaxana. He certainly did not want to stand naked in front of everyone!
"Your parents will probably expect a more traditionally Human wedding. Your brother, Kurn, a Klingon ceremony. But Worf, we must decide what we want, and they will have to accept it."
"Deanna, you mean so much to me. I will agree with whatever you wish." Even as he spoke the words, he prayed that Deanna would not insist upon a full Betazoid wedding. He knew how she'd reacted when her mother had almost married Ambassador Campio in a full wedding gown. Did she feel that strongly about tradition that she would expect him to undress as well?
Deanna sat up straight, her face registering surprise. "You would stand naked in front of all our friends for me?"
"I do not like the idea," Worf said, sighing heavily, "but if you wish it..."
Deanna brought her hand to Worf's face, caressing his beard. She kissed him gently. "For you, I would accept a Klingon ceremony."
Not expecting such an offer, Worf was momentarily taken aback. "The combination of the two would make for quite an eccentric ceremony." They burst out laughing, unable to stop for a long moment.
"We do have a dilemma," Deanna agreed as she nestled into his arms. For a while, they simply enjoyed each others presence.
Deanna left a message for Commander Data, who was currently teaching an evening calculus class at the Academy. Worf had agreed to stay on Earth, accepting a position as a Mok'bara instructor, while she counseled Data. At first, the android had needed daily therapy sessions to deal with his emotions. Now, she counseled him only once a week, and Deanna believed he could discontinue even that. Still, she wondered how Data would react if he knew she had been offered a position on Betazed.
A short while later, the annunciator chimed and Deanna beckoned their guest inside. She and Worf stood.
"You wished to see me?" Data said as he approached them. His expression showed concern, and Deanna suddenly realized she should have mentioned in her message that it wasn't urgent, given the lateness of the hour.
"Data, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to alarm you," Deanna said. "Let me take your coat."
He removed his Holmes-style overcoat, revealing a three-piece suit, then handed the overcoat to her. The android of course didn't need a coat to keep warm, but it was his way of trying to fit in with Humans. After hanging it in a nearby closet, Deanna returned to Worf's side.
"We have good news." She looked at Worf, smiling. "Do you wish to tell him or shall I?"
"I will allow you the pleasure of telling the first person," Worf conceded.
"We're getting married." Deanna waved her hand in front of the android, showing him her engagement ring.
"Congratulations!" Data exclaimed joyfully. He shook Worf's hand. "I am sure you two will be very happy together." Turning toward Deanna, he opened his arms wide, "Counselor."
Deanna accepted his embrace.
"Who are you planning to tell next? Would you like for me to help you contact some of your friends? Help plan the wedding? The reception?"
"Data, thanks," Deanna said, shaking her head at Data's obsequiousness, "but none of that will be necessary. Worf and I can manage everything on our own."
"Ah, yes of course," Data relented, showing obvious disappointment. "So, when is the blessed event?"
"We've decided that there's really no reason for a long engagement," Deanna replied. "Especially when people's lives could change so much in a few months. Worf and I could be assigned to different ships if we're not married, but as husband and wife, we would be granted a special request for a joint assignment. Right now, none of our closest friends have accepted any assignments that they can't take time away from to return to Earth. In a few months, Riker or Picard or any of the others could be on a mission halfway across the quadrant."
"So you will be marrying. . .?"
"Two weeks from tomorrow," Worf said. "It is an honorable holiday among Klingons. Deanna has graciously accepted my choice of a date."
Data nodded, his expression altering to one of concern. Deanna wondered why he was troubled by their decision to keep their engagement brief. "Will that allow you enough time to plan everything?"
"Yes, of course," Deanna replied. "Data, is there something wrong?"
"No. I am fine." Data smiled, but Deanna could sense that he was forcing it. "It is just difficult to process the overwhelming happiness I am feeling for the both of you. Maybe I should leave. Let you two-" He started toward the door.
"Commander, why don't you stay?" Worf asked. "For a celebratory drink. I have a bottle of real Bajoran champagne."
Data glanced at Deanna, and she nodded her approval. "I would be delighted."
By the time the commander left, he had stayed longer than Deanna had expected. Though she sensed genuine happiness in him, she could also feel a rising turmoil. Something wasn't right with her android friend.
Wrapping her arms around Worf, Deanna said, "We'd better contact my mother immediately," only moments after Data had left. "She'll never let me hear the end of it if we tell everyone else before her."
Worf nodded. "She would be quite irritated."
Deanna released her grip on Worf. Walking over to her desk, she sat down. "Computer, I need to send a subspace message to Betazed." While she waited, she glanced back at Worf and smiled reassuringly.
I put up a good front, Data thought as he walked down the corridor away from Deanna's quarters. He had used all his self-control trying to conceal his true emotions from Deanna's empathic senses. He did not know how successful he had been, only that he didn't want to spoil her happiness. Data did not experience all the physiological effects of emotions...palpitating heart, headaches, shaking...but thanks to the emotions chip Geordi La Forge had helped him install three months ago, Data could now feel a gambit of emotions, including joy, pride, satisfaction, and fear.
He felt fear now.
He wanted to see his friends happy, but was afraid of being left alone. Once Deanna and Worf were married, they would probably leave Earth. Data doubted he could cope with the day-to-day stressors without Deanna's guidance.
Maybe I can convince them to stay just a little longer. Just a few more weeks, and I know I can deal with these emotions without counsel. He had no idea how he would accomplish that. He felt so ashamed, knowing how childish such thoughts were.
He went to his quarters and activated his dream programming, something he had been doing more frequently since he acquired emotions. Dreams often helped Humans deal with problems. Maybe his would have answers for him.
Wandering through the corridors of the Enterprise, Data was not at first alarmed. He did not forget, of course, that it had been destroyed, but he so loved being back aboard the ship that had been his home for eight years that he did not care that walking through its corridors was impossible. He ventured into main engineering and stopped at the "pool table." He glanced around, expecting to spot various officers working on routine diagnostics, but every console, every station was empty.
"Geordi," he called, "Geordi, are you here?" The overwhelming need to see his friend flooded over him as he imagined that something terrible had happened to the chief engineer. He was aware that he was dreaming and yet, he could not shake the fear. He actually fought against tears, frustrating, wrenching tears.
No one answered so he moved on quickly, taking a turbolift to the Bridge. Please, Please, let there be someone there, he thought as he clenched and unclenched his hands into fists.
He found the Bridge empty.
"Captain? Commander Riker?" he called. "Counselor Troi! Where is everyone?" Glancing around the room, he tried to rationalize why the Bridge was empty. He couldn't possibly be the only one left; he couldn't be alone. He approached the Ready-Room door and pressed the annunciator, expecting to hear the captain's familiar "come."
No response.
Data began banging on the Ready-Room door. "Where is everyone? Why is nobody answering me?" He slumped down on the floor and, cradling his knees, began to cry. "Anybody!" he exclaimed, letting the tears flow freely.
Spot jumped on Data's belly, waking him. Feline and android stared at one another in the dim light. For a moment, Data didn't feel quite so alone anymore as he stroked his cat. But he couldn't forget his dream and how it had made him feel. Fresh tears flowed down his cheeks.
"Captain, you have a subspace message coming from Earth," Lieutenant Granger said as he approached Jean-Luc Picard, the former captain of theEnterprise.
"Thank you, lieutenant," Picard replied. "I'll take it in my office."
He stepped into the small room that had served as his office on Starbase 125 for the past two months. He often tried to convince himself that he was happy with this position, but deep down, he knew he longed to command a starship again. Sitting at his desk, he punched up the message on his computer screen.
After reading it, he clapped his hands and laughed joyously. "Computer, I want to send a return message. Just one phrase: 'Make it so!'"
Worf and Deanna were getting married and his former Klingon officer had asked him to stand up as best man.