Captain's log, Stardate 42073.1. There has been an outbreak of an unclassified plasma plague in the Rachelis system. We are on an emergency run to collect specimens of the deadly plague and transport them to Science Station Tango Sierra, where hopefully an antidote can be produced. Due to the incredible danger inherent in these specimens, the saucer section will remain at 'audet Nine with the bulk of the crew while a bare handful of us escort the stardrive section to its destination. Meanwhile, Lieutenant Commander Turhal's pregnancy is progressing at an astonishing rate.
Soriana looked amusedly at Data's attentive expression. "Thanks for volunteering your services, Data. Haliian fathers are an extremely important part of the birthing process - it means a lot that you're willing to do this."
"You're doing great, Data," Tasha said from her position out of the way of the medical professionals. Soriana sensed her thoughts centering on the android. While they were all growing more fond of Data, the tone of Tasha's thoughts implied something more… intimate. She would consider this development at a more convenient time.
"I am curious, Soriana," Data asked, "how do single mothers keep the Haliian tradition? Is a surrogate usually permitted?"
"Yes," she nodded. "A close male relative - usually the woman's father - takes the role instead. There are some dramatic stories from past ages about women giving birth completely alone - 'cursed children' who were born without a singer. But nowadays, any birthing center has a male volunteer on hand to play the part if needed." Soriana gripped Data as the sensation changed; she could feel the excitement of her baby at his eminent entrance. "Speaking of, it's time. Please start."
As Doctor Crusher approached to monitor the labor, Data opened his mouth and began to sing. He had offered Soriana a choice of any number of voices for the occasion - human and Haliian famed singers both. In the end, though, she had requested that Data simulate a singing voice based on his speaking voice, as 'authentic' as possible, if flawless in pitch and rhythm.
Data sung in a Southern dialect of Vatvo, one of the five living Haliian languages. Soriana focused on the meaning behind the ancient words, even as she bore down:
"Come now, child of perfection, into the imperfect.
Our hearts join you, as you break one heart,
You have known the long embrace of mother,
Now come to the arms of father, of friends, of family.
Depart from the comfort of the womb,
Learn the cool touch of rain, the heat of the sun.
Awaken for the first time, open your eyes,
Learn that color is greater than darkness,
Learn that sound is greater than silence,
Discover that pleasure is greater than the absence of pain.
I swear protection, love, and comfort,
Given to you as to your mother,
So come, share our joys and sorrows.
Come, and love us, as we love you."
"He's beautiful," Beverly said, as she held him out to Soriana, but the Haliian shook her head.
"Data first," Soriana insisted. "The father welcomes him to his arms, then I get him back."
"Doctor, I am not familiar with how to -" but Crusher thrust the small child, who squinted through new eyes and breathed without crying, into the android's arms, and he held the baby with rapt attention. "Fascinating," he said. "Welcome… ah, Soriana, what is his name?"
"Hennin, after my father."
"Welcome, Hennin." Soriana felt the small baby's curiosity, an almost heady joy.
"Yes," Soriana said as she took Hennin from his stand-in father at last. "Welcome."
"Come in," Soriana called in response to the door chime. "Tasha! Come to check on Hennin?"
The first officer nodded. "Doctor Crusher made me and Data both promise we'd check in on you and keep good notes. She wasn't happy having to leave you here to keep an eye on the plague samples."
Soriana laughed. "She'll get plenty of medical papers out of this, for sure. I was just finishing dinner; care to join us?"
"Hi," the boy looked up at Tasha boldly. He had Soriana's dark hair and skin. "You saw me be born."
"The day before yesterday," Tasha agreed. "You appear to be, what, seven or eight now?"
"The doctor made me up a calendar based on the pregnancy rate." Soriana brought it up on a wall display. "We'll be in the teens by the end of the week. Please, stay for dinner." Having poured different layers into a pan, she stuck it below the replicator. "Internal heat to three-fifty Kelvin," she ordered. The steam poured off the dish.
"This isn't replicated?" Tasha asked as she looked over the table. There were chopped melon slices, a pile of assorted leaves, and fried strips with a dipping sauce, in addition to the freshly-baked casserole that Soriana spooned onto her plate.
"The sauce is," Soriana admitted. "But I have my own garden in hydroponics to grow most of my food fresh. Makes me feel less homesick. Here, dear."
"What is it?" the boy eyed the glass of thick, orange liquid with suspicion.
"Muskan seed punch," Soriana said. She explained to Yar, "Haliians have to eat a lot of protein-rich beans and seeds, since we don't eat meat like most humanoid species."
"It's bitter," Hennin exclaimed, making a face and putting down his glass after the first sip.
"Yes, it is," his mother agreed. "Drink it anyway."
"I don't want to!" he pushed the glass farther away.
Yar looked up from a bite of the fried things - they tasted like squash, but crunchier - and eyed the suddenly defiant child. But she kept quiet, looking to Soriana.
"Hennin, look at me please." Soriana waited until the boy's eyes met hers. "Feel me, dearest. Feel how much I love you?"
The boy swallowed. "Yeah. Love you too, momma."
"Can you feel how much I want you to grow up big and strong? How much I want you to drink your seeds, so you will be healthy?"
"You're worried," Hennin said. "If I don't eat and drink, I will be sick later. But mom! I will grow big and strong no matter what, I promise!"
Soriana's brows furrowed. "You mean, because you're actually an alien just pretending to be my son?"
"No!" he shouted at this, and seemed genuinely upset. "I really am your son, momma! I promise, this isn't just pretend." Tears appeared in his eyes. "Please don't call me an alien, momma."
"Shh," Soriana breathed, standing from her seat and embracing the boy. "I know, Hennin. I know. You'll explain more when you're a little older."
Soriana wiped his eyes, then sat back in her own place. "But, sons of mine? They drink their muskan seed punch. All right?" She tried to look stern, but even Tasha could see the love that peeked through.
"Okay momma," the Haliian boy said, and took up his glass.
Captain's log, Stardate 42074.4. Having returned to 'audet Nine from our emergency run with both stardrive and crew intact, I am happy to oversee the Enterprise's rejoinder. Another matter has come to my attention, though - namely, Hennin Turhal.
Soriana watched her son enter the room - a sizable, muscled Haliian man with a calm emotional carriage - and swelled with pride. She knew her emotions weren't entirely logical; the boy's knowledge and faculties were clearly the choice of the life form embodying him, rather than any product of her parenting. But Hennin certainly loved her like a son, and it was hard not to think of him as hers.
Picard rose from the conference table and gestured to a seat, "Mister Turhal -"
"Soong, sir," the boy interrupted. Soriana flashed him a subtle emotional chide for his rudeness, which he acknowledged without any apologetic emotion (a trick he learned as a teenager, three days prior).
"Sorry, what?" Picard was thrown off.
"Hennin Soong, sir. In honor of my father." He nodded to Data.
"Your father?" Yar echoed.
"If I may, sir," Data began. "I sang a traditional Haliian song at Hennin's birth, a role typically undertaken by the father or another male relative. Under Haliian custom, it was appropriate for Hennin to ask me to stand in for his male parent if he chose."
"And Soong is your designer's surname, hence your family name," La Forge finished.
Hennin frowned. "Have I done something wrong? Momma - ah, Mother said it would be all right."
"Mister Soong," Picard began again, "I'm told you have something to tell us. We're listening."
Hennin took a seat, and Soriana sent him a quick jolt of reassurance in response to his nervousness. "I am the product," he explained, "of an alien intelligence residing in the gravitational wells of several neutron stars in the Gamma quadrant."
"The Gamma quadrant is far too distant for the Federation to have yet explored," Data pointed out. "How did you come here?"
"Instances of their consciousness have been sent out into the galaxy to explore it, to gather experiences and enrich their knowledge," Hennin said. "When I die, the entity within me will be released, returning home to share my life with their entire kind."
"When you die?" Soriana repeated in distress. "Son, you've been alive for less than a month! We've talked about this-"
"So we have, Mother," he interrupted. "That is what I need to explain. Based on my discussions with you and Father, I believe - and the creature inside me agrees - that its original plan of an abbreviated existence was hasty. There is much more to learn and experience here."
"Biologically, you're in your early twenties," Crusher assessed. "If you revert to normal aging now, you could easily survive a century or more."
Hennin nodded. "That's the plan. I'm at the age now where it's appropriate for me to go out on my own, to meet new people and experience a full life. If that is allowed."
"Certainly it is," Soriana insisted. "We need to do the paperwork - I hadn't filed anything yet, what with the weird circumstances - but you're a Haliian by birth and a Federation citizen. There are hundreds of worlds you can explore, if you choose."
Hennin nodded. "Before I go, I will work with Father to supply as much as the entity will share with me about them. It sees Starfleet as a kindred spirit; I already know quite a bit about them."
Yar said, "But you don't see yourself as one of them."
Hennin shook his head. "I was meant to be Haliian - one of you, not one of them."
Soriana stood and rushed to her son, wrapping her arms around him… and ignoring the waves of embarrassment from him and the Captain. "You are, dearest!" she insisted, "You are!"
[Author's Note: For me, "The Child" was the most egregious example of ignoring the saucer separation feature. Picard emphasizes in his log about how carrying such dangerous samples is a risk to the crew, and only acceptable because this is a major emergency. Okay, so you have an asset you need - a powerful warp drive - but it's attached to a vulnerable thing you value - your crew. If only the drive could... try to follow me here... separate from the part of the ship with the crew?]