Synopsis: Set during various periods of time post-"Endgame." Canon-consistent (though, as it deals with time travel, may not seem so – keep reading, and it'll make sense). In Part One, Miral Paris and Andrew Kim (Harry's son) entered Starfleet Academy and began dating, to the chagrin of their parents. After three years together, Miral and Andrew headed off for summer internships at different ends of the quadrant and found themselves breaking up. The beginning of their last year at the Academy brought about a reconciliation. Faced with the end of their tenure as cadets and the possibility that their first duty assignments would once again scatter them around the galaxy, they became engaged. Tom and B'Elanna welcomed friends and family to their San Francisco home to celebrate Miral and Andrew's graduation and engagment, but the festivities were interrupted when Q2 appeared, announcing, to everyone's confusion, that he was the reason Andrew existed.Part Two begins in the past, exploring what happened between "Endgame" and Part One.
Chapter 4: En Route to Qo'noS, Klingon Homeworld, 2390
At the sound of the navigational warning beep, B'Elanna Torres glanced down to adjust their course heading. She looked over at the imposing figure in the seat next to her. He was lost in thought, presumably unaware of what she was doing.
Although she and Worf had met during her Voyager debriefing many years before, they had just started working together as Federation liaisons to the Klingon Empire. It wasn't that she hadn't loved her job as chief engineer of the Enterprise, but Tom had been offered the position of Academy flight instructor – a position he couldn't refuse, and one she didn't want him to. They'd moved back to Earth, closer to his family and to some of their friends, and she'd been thrust into diplomacy, as one of only two Klingons to have served in Starfleet.
The other, of course, was Worf, her new mentor and boss. B'Elanna still didn't feel that she knew the old Klingon very well, and his trust in her abilities to successfully pilot them to Qo'noS, while completely founded and appropriate, nonetheless warmed her.
"Mom?" L'Naan's delicate voice came from behind her. B'Elanna spun around in her chair. "Do you have a second to look at the specs for the power cell?"
"Sure." B'Elanna extended a hand, into which L'Naan placed the padd she'd been working with. B'Elanna's eyes narrowed as she skimmed through the data. "It's been a long time since I worked with robotics, and there have been a lot of developments in the technology since then, but…" She looked up and returned the padd to L'Naan. "I think you'll find that the circuits will overload if you supply the unit with that much energy. You might want to check using an electromagnetic synthemometer."
L'Naan nodded in understanding. "What if I use a protective sheath around isolinear pathways?"
B'Elanna said nothing, waiting for her daughter to think through her own idea.
"But that would slow down the computational speed, and it would probably lose its superlocomotive abilities." She tapped the padd against her palm. "So I guess it's back to the drawing board?"
B'Elanna nodded. "But you're getting closer." She turned back to the conn as L'Naan returned to the aft of the shuttle.
"Robotics?" Worf asked.
"She's building a robot for a science project. Her dream in life is to design an android with a more sophisticated brain than Noonien Soong's positronic matrix."
"A lofty goal for a nine-year-old." Worf paused. "She resembles you in many ways – looks, mannerisms, and, apparently, talents."
"Really?" B'Elanna regarded him with curiosity. "All I see is Tom when I look at her. But thanks."
Worf said nothing in reply, and they once again lapsed into an agreeable silence. B'Elanna busied herself with a sensor sweep, but after a minute she dared to ask, "Does Alexander resemble you?"
"Not really." Another pause. "He had a difficult childhood."
Worf's voice suddenly sounded very sad, and B'Elanna was almost sorry she'd broached the subject. Although she'd met Alexander Rozhenko once or twice, the meetings had been brief and cordial, and she didn't know him very well.
Worf's eyes drifted out the viewport as he continued to talk. "It was my fault. After his mother's death, he was raised by my human parents, and then he was thrust back into the world of the Empire. When he was young, he thought all I cared about was honor. Then when he was older, he didn't think I was honorable enough." Worf sighed. "I pushed him into being Klingon in ways I don't think he appreciated."
"Sounds like my relationship with my mother," B'Elanna told him. "The more she tried to get me to appreciate my heritage, the more I wanted nothing to do with it." So we were all raised the outsider among humans, she thought, and now we've all drifted back into the world of the Empire. I wonder what that means.
"When did you begin to embrace being Klingon?" Worf asked her.
"It was a strange turn of events," she told him with a small smile.
"The kuvah'magh?" he asked, referring the claim a group of Klingons in the Delta Quadrant had made that Miral (at that time still unborn) was their savior. Although most of the Klingons in the Empire dismissed the idea, there were still plenty of myths and even a few academic papers on the subject to keep the incident marginally known in the Beta Quadrant.
"It began before that, but that was a part of it. Actually, it took me a long time to accept who I am. Tom played a big role." She laughed lightly. "You know, sometimes I think he's more Klingon than I am. He's better with the language – I've only got the swearing down. And he cares about tradition and honor far more than I do." She quickly registered that Worf was not amused by this news. No doubt. You just told him that his assistant doesn't actually care about any of this, idiot. With little left to lose, B'Elanna decided to press a subject she'd been curious about since she'd studied Worf's file. "What about your wife Jadzia? Didn't she have a deep passion for Klingon culture?"
Worf's lips pursed, and he frowned. Then he decided to trust the woman sitting next to him, who, after all, perhaps understood his life better than anyone else in either the United Federation of Planets or the Klingon Empire. She also had a kind of fire that reminded him of both of the great loves in his life. Her sardonic attitude toward her double heritage was all K'Ehleyr, but her ferocity and mischievous humor was Jadzia Dax. He wondered briefly if B'Elanna's daughters would have been anything like children he might have had with his long-deceased wife. Then he dismissed the thought: they were, after all, half Tom Paris. And Worf was certain that there was very little he had in common with Tom Paris.
"She had an affinity for our culture long before I met her." His dark eyes twinkled. "And, yes, she sometimes cared about tradition and honor more than I did." Their eyes met, and they smiled, sharing a silent moment of understanding.
Finally B'Elanna said, "I think I would have liked her."
Worf nodded. "And she would have liked you."
Qo'noS, Lake of Lursor, Engineering School
Although her mother had raised her and Miral to appreciate their Klingon heritage, L'Naan had never visited Qo'noS. The Klingon homeworld looked more ostentatious than she expected, but still the planet held a kind of enchantment over her.
When her cousin Tchok offered to take her to visit his engineering school – the very school B'Elanna could have attended in lieu of Starfleet Academy – L'Naan jumped at the chance. This would be her first opportunity to see non-Federation technology up close, to see if she really understood engineering as well as she thought or if she was just familiar with the computer systems used on Earth.
As they walked around the propulsion lab, L'Naan tried to keep her awe in check. She knew that looking too impressed would imply a kind of inferiority. With a rather passive expression on her face, she told Tchok, "It's hardly the Daystrom Institute. I don't know if I could attend such a pathetic school, yur."
"You are lucky to visit this school, much less attend, pujwI'," he replied with a snarl.
L'Naan couldn't help laughing, and after a moment Tchok joined in.
"You are one-quarter Klingon," he said more seriously. "That makes you one of us. You could apply to this school in a few years if you wanted to."
"That's really nice of you to say, Tchok, but we both know that whatever the law is, everyone here considers me a kuveleta."
"A few rituals could fix that. You could become a member of our house."
"Why are you being nice to me?" L'Naan wondered.
Tchok sneered at being called nice. "We need more engineers in our family."
"NuqneH! QaStaH nuq?!"
Tchok turned to the door and called back, "NaDevvo' yIghoS!"
"What's going on?" L'Naan asked as Tchok's older sister strode into the lab.
"My pathetic excuse for a brother is putting weak ideas into your head," Derela told her. "He soils the name of the House of Abaran with his love of tinkering and his disdain for the battlefield."
L'Naan tried to stand up as tall as she could, but Derela, who was six years older and fully Klingon, loomed over her. "My mother says warriors may get all the glory, but engineers are the ones who build societies."
"Hab SoSlI' Quch!" Derela shouted, leaning toward her.
L'Naan realized too late that her mother's philosophy was, for her cousin, a battle cry. Kahless, she's going to want to fight me!
Derela pulled a d'k tahg knife from her pant leg and clicked the side blades into place. "I challenge you to prove your worth, engineer!"
L'Naan turned to Tchok in a panic. He tossed her his own sheathed knife, which she caught and hopelessly held in her hands. This was not how she'd imagined her first visit to the homeworld, but she didn't want to cause her family dishonor by turning down a formal challenge.
"Defend yourself, human!" Derela ordered.
"I am Klingon!" L'Naan shouted back, opening the knife. "Heghlu'meH QaQ jajvam!" She held the knife in front of her, preparing for the ensuing disaster.
To her surprise, Derela closed her knife and began to laugh heartily. Tchok laughed as well. L'Naan stood frozen in confusion until Tchok took the knife from her hand and patted her on the back.
"You have proven yourself worthy, L'Naan, daughter of B'Elanna," Tchok explained. "Now let me show you my design for an improved antimatter flow."
First City, High Council, Diplomatic Guest Chambers
"Mom, do I have to?"
"You were so excited yesterday."
"Yesterday was fun. Yesterday Qo'noS was new. Yesterday they showed me the engineering lab. Today is different. It's dinner. And I hear they're serving gagh."
"Gagh is the least of your worries," B'Elanna told her. "There are other Klingon foods that are much, much worse. Now put on the damned sash, so I won't be late." As L'Naan reluctantly took the ceremonial sash from her mother, B'Elanna reminded her, "You're the one who wanted to come here with me."
"I know, I know." L'Naan adjusted the material over her shoulder and frowned at the large United Federation of Planets insignia, intended to demarcate her "house." She'd be the only person at the dinner (apart from her mother) whose house was not her lineage but an interstellar alliance, and though she was only nine, she was smart enough to realize it was a way of excluding her. Here she was not Klingon, in spite of her physical attributes; here on the homeworld she was first and foremost a Federation citizen, a human. She looked up, awaiting her mother's reaction.
Her mother was laughing. "You look ridiculous!"
"Mom!" L'Naan struggled to get out of the sash, and B'Elanna swiftly stopped her.
"I'm sorry. It's fine. Really, you look great." She adjusted the sash on L'Naan's right shoulder. "It's only for two hours, and then you can come back here and work on your power cell modifications."
"Which is much more interesting than a stupid diplomatic dinner."
B'Elanna raised her eyebrows. "You are like me," she murmured to herself. She put a hand on her daughter's shoulder and guided her out the door. "Come on, Worf is waiting."
After two hours of polite conversation following by singing and too much bloodwine consumed by their Klingon hosts, B'Elanna and L'Naan returned to their rooms for the evening. B'Elanna needed to review her notes for their morning meeting regarding the protection of the Karemma in the region of the Gamma Quadrant once controlled by the long-defunct Dominion. L'Naan had had her fill of exotic culture and wanted to report everything back to her sister on Earth before returning to her robotics project.
"Hi, Dad," she said to the screen in front of her.
"Hey, squirt," Tom replied. "How's the homeworld?"
"Hot, dark, and boring. Except watching Ambassador T'Lehr get drunk on bloodwine was pretty funny." Her eyes widened. "And Worf singing battle hymns was pretty great."
Tom smiled. "Did your mom sing, too?"
L'Naan glanced over her shoulder to where B'Elanna was sitting on the sofa, drinking a raktajino and reviewing a padd. She leaned toward the monitor and dropped her voice. "She kept getting the words and the pronunciation wrong, so Gujot finally whispered to her to stop before she caused a diplomatic incident."
Tom laughed. "Will you get her, squirt? I want to talk to her."
"Okay, but I want to talk to Miral, so don't take long."
"Yes, ma'am."
L'Naan rose from the floor and went over to the sofa. "Dad wants you," she informed her mother. "And don't be forever. I have to talk to Miral."
"Bossy, aren't we?" B'Elanna commented as she crossed the room to the screen. She knelt down where L'Naan had been and looked at Tom's familiar face on screen. "Hi."
"Hi. What's on the agenda for tomorrow? Choir practice?"
"She told you." She smiled in spite of herself. "I think she's starting to regret coming."
"And you? How do you find the homeworld?"
"Hot, dark, and boring," she echoed. "But I think we're making real progress."
"With your charm? I'm sure you are."
Again an amused smirk on her face, though she didn't want to be gotten so easily by him. "I really have a lot of reading to do before the High Council meeting tomorrow, but I'll contact you tomorrow once I'm finished, okay?"
Tom nodded. "Go easy on the Klingons. They're not as tough as you. And come home soon, okay? BomDI' 'IwwIj qaqaw." B'Elanna grinned at the screen. "Cute. I'll be home next week. And then you'll jachchoHmeH 'Iwraj penaghtaH."
"Mom, come on! Let me talk to Miral!" L'Naan insisted.
B'Elanna exchanged a look with Tom. "Qapla'," he said with a smile as she rose to let L'Naan have the monitor. She went back to the sofa and took up her padd again, the thought of mating with Tom until his blood screamed causing her to grin every few seconds as she scrolled through the data.