Not quite an hour later the transport left her at the front gates of Keldeen, the sprawling country estate her family had held for generations. She was not quite ready to face her grandfather, who would, no doubt have many questions about her unannounced arrival; so she headed out to the guest cottage behind the main house. Perhaps a good night's sleep and Grandma Amanda's amazing firstmeal would help her find some perspective before facing the imposing Vulcan patriarch.
She was just inside the entryway, about to turn on the lights, when she heard a strange low growling sound coming from the back of the small house. Moving with light steps toward the sound, she found the doors that led to the back garden open and heard the low, rumbling growl again. Peeking through the opening of the door she saw a large, dark form moving slowly in the darkness. Most of the wildlife roaming the estate were harmless, but on a couple of occasions her grandfather had mentioned finding a wandering le-matra that had managed to work its way through the finely tuned bioforce fields protecting the property.
Noise and light, the le-maytra was a nocturnal creature and feared both. Stealthily, T'Kirk moved toward the light switch near the door. She would flick the garden lights on and scream at the top of her lungs, hopefully the combination would be sufficient to scare the carnivorous beast back to the wilds. Her heart was pounding as her fingers slid along the cool stone wall, feeling the rush of adrenaline as they found the switch. She swallowed hard then flipped it to the on position and screamed at the top of her lungs.
The garden was flooded with bright light and in response the dark menacing figure abruptly morphed into two quite distinct and painfully familiar figures. She hastily switched the lights back off and turned away from the pair, mortified at the sound of clothing fasteners being closed and a stream of pre Reform Vulcan oaths that would blister the paint off the hull of a Constitution Class Starship.
T'Kirk sighed and called out to the garden, "You know, just once it would be nice to come home to find my mother in the kitchen baking cookies like in a normal family!"
"Vulcan mothers don't bake cookies, T'Kirk," her mother said with an easy laugh. She walked into the kitchen as she finished closing the intricate fasteners on her tunic.
"Well they certainly don't…." T'Kirk paused to search for an acceptable word but couldn't find one. "In the garden, I mean really guys, get a room?"
Her father emerged from the darkened garden and regarded his daughter with a raised eyebrow and a puzzled tilt of his head.
"As we were here alone, daughter, there appeared to be no reason to 'get a room' if I am understanding your use of that particular colloquialism."
"There's food in the chiller if you're hungry, sweetheart," her mother said, raking her fingers through her tousled hair.
T'Kirk used the Vulcan controls she'd been taught since childhood to slow the beating of her heart and ease the bright red blush of her cheeks. "You could at least pretend to be embarrassed," she said, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
Her father examined the platter of grilled root vegetables that T'Kirk had removed from the chiller, and selected a handful of small purple cubes, popping them into his mouth as he regarded his daughter with equanimity.
"I find it highly illogical that you would be so horrified by the very mechanism that is responsible for your existence, T'Kirk."
"Father, it is a universal given that no being wishes to think about the idea of their parents…. you know"-her cheeks were becoming red again- "having…sex. All children wish to believe that their parents don't have sex."
"T'Kirk, the very fact that the children in question have parents-"
"I didn't say it was logical, father. So, I am to believe that you are comfortable with the idea of grandma and grandpa having sex?"
"My parents have never engaged in such activity."
T'Kirk chuckled and shook her head. "Okay, then how did you get here?"
"A sehlat brought me to the front gate in a little basket."
"A basket?" her mother asked.
"That is what my mother told me, Christine," he said with feigned affront, then allowed his eyes to widen as if experiencing an epiphany.
"Oh, Father," T'Kirk said as she embraced him fiercely. "I have missed you so very much."
"The sentiment is mutually held, my child"
At the tender embrace all of the pain and confusion of the past weeks came out in a burst of tears.
"What is wrong, ko'kan?" her father asked.
"Everything, Father, everything."
