Part Two

Tasha returned from her summer assignment on the USS Intrepid, full of the news that was rocketing through Starfleet: the first Klingon cadet had applied and been accepted to the Academy. She had been researching Klingon culture ever since she'd found out, and the more she learned, the more she wanted to know. Klingons were a warrior race, with no tolerance for politeness and a strict devotion to duty and honor that she found commendable. She was sure that she would get along with a cadet who valued a good fight and hated small talk. Besides, the only Klingon cadet was sure to become a celebrated officer, and she wanted to be able to say that she knew him when.

She plotted to meet him on the first day of freshman registration, but she couldn't figure out if he'd be processed in the city with the new alien cadets, or if he'd arrive at the campus transport center. The scuttlebutt was that he lived on Earth with human parents. Most cadets preferred to say their farewells in the city, if they could, away from the prying eyes of their new classmates. Tasha opted to stake out the shuttle at the cultural processing center. She could always beam to campus if she'd guessed wrong. She got there at 0800 hours and watched as the assorted Vulcan, Andorian, Zakdorn, Bolian, and a panoply of other species said their goodbyes to their parents, some stoic and brief, some drawn out and emotional. After a while, she jumped to her feet from the bench where she'd been waiting. A mismatched quartet emerged from the center. Tasha had found her quarry.

A man with a full beard and mustache and a woman with black hair piled up on her head were taking their leave of two tall boys, one human, one Klingon. The father and mother alternated between hugging and kissing their sons and hugging each other, giving advice that Tasha was too far away to hear but could recognize by the accompanying gestures, and falling on the boys' necks with hugs and kisses again. Finally, the Klingon son roared, "Enough!" so loudly that it carried to Tasha's vantage point. With one last embrace, the parents relinquished their children, and both boys walked to the shuttle.

Tasha jogged over to intercept them. She caught up with them just as the human boy was about to step aboard.

She addressed the Klingon. "NuqneH."

The human cadet laughed and stepped back down. Tasha looked from one to the other. "Did I say it wrong? I thought it was Klingon for 'hello'."

"There is no word in Klingon for hello," the black haired human explained. "You just asked my brother, 'what do you want?'"

"Oh. Sorry. I'm Cadet Third Class Tasha Yar."

"Nikolai Rozhenko." He held out his hand.

She shook it. "And you are?"

"Worf," the Klingon said curtly.

"Yar. You know, you don't have to take the shuttle to campus."

"No?" Nikolai looked at his brother.

"No. You can beam straight there from one of the city transport centers," Tasha went on.

Worf bristled. "The officer in the processing center told us to take the shuttle."

"I know. That's 'cause they're afraid you'll get lost if you try to find the freshman hall on your own. But I can show you where it is."

Worf gave her a look of mistrust that was outright hostile.

"Believe me – they don't call roll on the shuttle. One leaves every 10 minutes. It's more efficient to beam in, unless you want to take the scenic route," Tasha said.

Worf folded his arms. "Scenery is irrelevant to a warrior."

"Then follow me. We'll be there in two shakes." Tasha led them away from the shuttle.

"So, who are you, our personal welcoming committee?" Nikolai asked.

"No. To be honest, I've never met a Klingon before. I was curious about you, Worf."

Worf growled in the back of his throat, but said nothing.

"Have you chosen majors yet?" Tasha asked.

"No, I'm undecided," answered Nikolai.

"Command Ops," replied Worf.

"Wow. Can you just imagine being the first Klingon captain in the UFP? I'm a Weapons and Tactical major," Tasha said.

"You?" Nikolai seemed skeptical. "You're much too pretty to be a security officer."

Tasha stopped short, causing him to almost run into her. Her friendly demeanor dropped. "You care to rephrase that, freshie?"

Nikolai swallowed hard, and Worf looked at her with interest. "What I meant to say was, I'm sure you'll be very good at your job."

"I'm sure." Tasha turned and strode off again.

Nikolai lagged behind and elbowed his brother. "Touchy," he said under his breath.

Worf narrowed his eyes and lengthened his stride to catch up with Tasha.