Chapter 3

The red sun was setting over the parched land of Qo'nos as eight-year old B'Elanna unpacked the last box of her stuff into her new room. Her mother had decided that B'Elanna would never be honorable enough growing up on Kessik IV. At first, B'Elanna had tried to prove to her mother that she was honorable and courageous. That didn't work. In the end, she had just consented to avoid the wrath of her mother.

B'Elanna had hugged her best-friend, Erva, and bordered a transport to the Klingon Homeworld. They had arrived on Qo'nos late afternoon and began unpacking. B'Elanna had purposely avoided her mother. She didn't want to talk to her. Her temper was boiling, but she didn't want to fight her mother, she was still sore from their last fight.

Grabbing a pad, she laid down on her bed. Since her dad had moved out, her mother had forced her to learn Klingon and when they were on the Klingon Homeworld, she would have to speak it commendably. There were a few words that she wanted to learn before she started school tomorrow.

Her class consisted of mostly Klingons, but there were some other species. Most of the non-Klingon students were children of peace negotiators and scientists, and they were treated with the most respect. All except for B'Elanna, she was constantly teased. They called her mongrel, and half-breed, impure, dishonorable and weak.

During bat'leth practice, her teachers would pair her off with the strongest boys and try and make her out to be a weakling coward. The anger that pounded through her veins was the only thing that allowed her to keep her ground. In the end, though, she was always beaten. Even in full-blown temper tantrum, she was no match for a full-blooded Klingon.

"Hey, half-breed." J'Kral called out to her one day on her way home. He was the most popular Klingon in her class. He was also the strongest and the bravest and he made fun of her the most. She tried ignoring him, she was almost home, and maybe she wouldn't have to fight today.

J'Kral wasn't one to give up easily. He quickly caught up with her. Grabbing her shoulder, he spun her around, than swung for her jaw. Luckily, B'Elanna was prepared for that and ducked, causing him to hit only air.

While he was still off balance, she slammed her fist into his stomach, causing J'Kral to double over in pain. Before he could right himself, she pounded her fists into his back. Then she ran as fast as she could towards home. If J'Kral caught up with her, he'd kill her.

This wasn't the first time she had narrowly escaped having her face smashed in. A person, especially Klingons, often assumed strength was the most important factor in the outcome of a battle, but B'Elanna quickly learned it wasn't. Sometimes catching your opponent off balance was all that mattered.

J'Kral always started a fight the same way, with a direct blow to the jaw. After having her jaw dislocated three times and broken twice, B'Elanna had learned to duck that first swing. Then, while J'Kral was off balance, she hit him and run like her life depended on it and quite often, too often, it did.

***

I wish it might come to pass,

Not fade like all my dreams.

Just think of what my life might be,

In a world like I have seen.

-Soliloquy

Rush, 2112

***

"Mom? Can I drive?"

Mrs. Maureen Paris glanced over at Tom. "You're only seven!" She exclaimed.

"You're way too little."

Tom puffed out his bottom lip as their hovercraft pulled in the Starfleet Transport Building. "Dad let's me." He complained, though didn't go any farther.

This would Tom's second time at the Academy. This time, he was going to see his dad make a speech to the board of directors or something.

Tom was only going because he was too little to stay home alone, even with a security alarm. His 9-year-old sister, Nicole, had managed to find a friend to stay with, as did his 12-year-old sister, Danielle.

This was, however, Tom's first time being transported.

A Lt. led the two to a transporter pad, wished them a good day, and tapped the control on the console.

Tom didn't even feel a thing as he found himself staring at a man in an Admiral's uniform. He looked at his mom, confused. "That was it?" He blurted out.

Mom and the Admiral both laughed.

"That was it, son." The admiral replied, and Tom felt a little strange. Only his dad called him 'son'. "Mrs. Paris, it's wonderful to see you again. I'm sorry your husband isn't here, he's in a meeting."

"Oh, I understand." Mom said, even though Tom didn't.

The admiral held out his hand and mom took it. Then he looked at Tom. "And you must be the Tom Paris I hear so much about."

Tom nodded, smiling. He knew his dad talked about him a lot. "Yes, sir."

The admiral smiled. "Welcome to the Starfleet Academy. I'm Admiral Jeremy Hetland. I'm going to take you on a tour of the Academy before the conference. Right this way, please."

Tom stared in awe at the building in the city of Presidio. It was tall, with flags of each of the Federation Planets flapping in the California wind. The grounds were beautiful, green and filled with plants from all over the galaxy. A fountain was near the entrance, and hundreds of cadets were milling around, talking, laughing and happy to have the free time. In the distance, Tom could make out the historical Golden Gate Bridge, lying across the sound.

"It hasn't changed since I was here." Mom said, scrutinizing the flags. "There's a lot more flags than I remember."

"Yes, we've had more planets gain Federation citizenship. Some people think there's too many, but I see no harm in it. Now, please, right this way, and I'll take you on the tour."

Two hours later, the three of them were sitting in the mess hall, a secluded place, away from the cadets.

But Tom couldn't stay still. All these older people! They were all older than Danielle and Nicole, and the teachers, some were older than his parents.

And so many different aliens! Vulcans, Bolians, Betazoids and more aliens that he didn't recognize.

"Who's that?" Tom asked suddenly, pointing. A large male had entered the mess hall and had caught Tom's attention.

Hetland looked to the person Tom was pointing to. "That, my boy, is Cadet 3rd class Worf. He's the first Klingon to ever join Starfleet."

"Goodness." Mom shuddered. "Now they're allowing Klingons to join? Has Starfleet gone mad?"

Hetland shrugged. "I guess their hoping that if one Klingon joins, other's will follow. Eventually, complete peace between our people will develop. Frankly, Mrs. Paris, I believe that Starfleet is holding their breath and praying not to start a fight."

"I agree. Klingons should stay on their world, not ours."

Tom disagreed, though didn't announce it. Worf was the most fascinating person Tom had ever seen. He had seen Klingons on holo-projections and things like that, but never in real life. He hoped Klingons did join the Federation. He wanted to go to school with one. Yeah, that would be nice.