Summary - She was never one to judge with her eyes, but it took special insight for Nyota Uhura to realize with what it was she should be judging.

Mthama

There were voices in the wind.

They were not human voices, nor non-Terran voices, nor animal voices - they were Wind voices.

The Morning spoke in a long chilly shimmer, glowing and wavering like the first moment of sunrise, and The Afternoon hummed with the short staccato beats of rolling drums, sounding like honey on hot, hot bread. The Wind of the Night tinkled with starlight, whispering like the scent of orchids - except, of course, when it roared and crashed, like a wild cat, with eyes luminous in the moonlight, and muzzle soaked in blood.

Oh, there were so many sounds. . .

The whole world - no, the whole UNIVERSE, she thought - could be contained in sound.

Lightly, Nyota drew a stick through a patch of dusty earth in the garden of her parent's country house. The soft "shhhkk-shhhkk" was soothing, and then she clinked two stones together, the sharp "rattttttt" adding good counterpoint. She pulled up two weeds from soft soil, and they gave their usual deep "thunk" of a popping sound as the root broke free. She shook the soil still contained in the nest of rootlets, and it pattered loosely over a stone with a soft "tshhh" that was very like misty rain. In the distance she heard the whining chirp of a cheetah, and quickly she tried to copy the unique sound.

"Meawww. Meawwwkkk," she keened softly, so focused on repeating the noise that she did not notice the tall slender woman appear close behind her.

"Kidege, hukuwaza kidege," sang the woman, knowing that this would be the only way to catch her daughter's attention.

Slightly startled, Nyota paused a second before singing the reply, "Malaika, nakupenda Malaika."

Sayari Uhura knew when her daughter was brooding. Silently, she knelt down, brushing a tuft of dry grass from her youngest girl's sleeve.

"What is this day saying to you, mpenzi msichana?" she asked, sounding genuinely curious.

For a child so enthralled with sounds, Nyota was disinclined to answer this question. "It says many things, mthama," she said, at last meeting her mother's eye, "Mostly it says that I wish to be alone, and if you were not my Malaika, I would ask you to let me be."

Mother's eyes twinkled a bit, but she did not smile. "Ah, wapenzi, the winds never say that, and the stones are social creatures. You must be listening to something else in your mind." Mthama's voice curled softly over the consonants, reminding Nyota of the riverbank where she had taught her how to swim. It made her feel safe, yet impelled to act as she had then. Stubborn. Rebellious. Vaguely fearful. How come mother never let things be?

The loving voice hardened, just the tiniest bit, "What is wrong, Nyota?"

Perhaps. . . mother never let things be because she always knew when something was wrong, even when no one else could tell.

For a second Nyota clenched her mouth shut, as if she would never say a word again, then with a gusty sigh she flipped herself atop the large warm stone in the middle of the garden, crossed her legs, crossed her arms, and gave the general impression of being majestically offended.

"My brothers do not love me," she said, not at all in jest.

Mthama never laughed when she made statements such a these. Mother always seemed to understand. But Nyota never knew (not until much, much later) how close Sayari came to bursting into peals of laughter at this posture and statement from her daughter.

"You wait until a boy from school asks you to dance with him - then you will see how they do not love you, kidege. Have they not been good brothers for many, many years? They will not stop now merely because you are going to school. What has happened?"

Nyota stuck out her jaw, and her eyes turned even more truculent - were that possible. "I do not wish for a boy from school to dance with me - I wish for my brothers not to laugh at me!"

Sayari held back laughter again, and managed to frame her next question with a very serious tone. "You and your brothers are forever laughing - with and at each other - now then, Nyota wapanzi, you will tell me what is it that has happened."

She sighed - it was a great concession to tell this, even to her mother. "They were playing with the laser pointers as though they were phasers, and they themselves were starships. I asked to be an officer. They agreed and asked what I knew. I spoke to them in Romulan, and they laughed. Like they did not know its importance!" Nyota pressed her two small fists against her cheeks, looking very much like she wanted to cry.

At last Sayari took her daughter into her arms, "Perhaps they do not, my love. They are boys, your brothers, and many times in this life you will learn that men have much that is different to them in importance than we women do."

"They should not have laughed." Nyota was very sure of this, but at last she did not sound sullen.

"Hakuna, but do you not think that maybe, maybe you were a little proud that you could speak a language they could not?" Sayari looked down at her daughter, gently making her to took her in the eye.

"Maybe. . ." Nyota mumbled, "maybe. . . I. . . I don't really know, mthama."

Sayari smiled a little, "You should not always think with your head, dearest."

Nyota's forehead wrinkled in complete bewilderment, "But. . . if not with my head. . . then. . .?"

Mrs. Uhura stood, and took her daughters hand, "Ah, little one, you think your brothers do not love you anymore, but you do not remember that they have watched you grow from a little girl whom they bettered in all things, to a very smart young lady whom they do not understand. Think with your heart a little, and then you will know what is what."

"But. . ."

"Hush, young one, and listen to me - upendo ni kubwa - Always. Upendo ni kubwa." The greatest is Love. "Remember that kidege, and you will not go far wrong."

Nyota blushed a little, not that mthama could see it, and suddenly she relaxed and threw her arms around her mother.

"Well, I think that ni kubwa mthama. My Malaika."

Sayari did laugh then, and wondered once more how quickly children grew, yet how slowly they mature.

"Go up to the house now Nyota, and help your sisters with supper."

Nyota nodded, and started to obey, but Sayari held her back a moment.

"Do you remember what I have said?"

"Yes, mthama."

"Go then, and do not forget."

Halfway to the house, Nyota allowed herself to admit that mthama was probably right.

But, one day, she promised herself, she would meet someone who appreciated the fact that she could speak Romulan.

A/N Well, what can I say? I like fluff! (^_^)

Meaning of Swahili words -

Hakuna - No

Kidege, hukuwaza kidege - Little bird, I dream of you little bird.

Malaika, nakupenda Malaika - Angel, I love you Angel.

Mpenzi msichana - dear girl

Ni kubwa Mthama - the Greatest is Mother

Upendo ni kubwa - the Greatest is Love

Wapenzi - dear

All definitions found at - http://africanlanguages. com/swahili/ and - http://translation. imtranslator. net/translate/default. asp?dir=en/sw

Lyrics for "Malaika" found at - http://mwanasimba. online. fr/E_songs_malaika. htm

Even with these resources, it was incredibly difficult to find accurate Swahili translations online. I DO NOT take the use of foreign languages lightly. If ANYONE sees a mistake - NO MATTER HOW SMALL - I. Want. You. To. Let. Me. Know.

Seriously. Swahili is a real language, spoken by real people, not just incredibly awesome fictional xenolinguistics majors.

Thank you

Next - Canna ye take nae more? Well, on we go then! ;)