Chapter Seventeen
Morning dawned bright and cold on the desert planet of Nineveh IV. In the windy clearing between the gleaming domes of the archaeologists' compound, Tu'Pari walked the horses, giving them a little exercise before cleaning out their stalls. Kahlestra watched them through a heptagonal window, absently jabbing her Kuaizi sticks in her bowl of squirming racht.
"Kahlestra," Kurak scolded, speaking in Klingon as she always did when they were alone. "Kuaizi are for lifting your food, not stabbing it. There is nothing worse than half-dead racht."
Kahlestra tossed her Kuaizi sticks on the table and shoved her bowl of writhing worms across to her.
"You eat them," she said, also in Klingon.
Kurak closed her eyes, her thin, ridged nose widening as she breathed a long, slow sigh. When she opened them again, her eyes were a burning glare.
"You will eat your breakfast," she growled. "You know how difficult it is to raise fresh racht on this dry world, and you have not been keeping up with their feeding schedule."
Kahlestra slid her eyes toward their family dome's small kitchen, where their smelly little bucket of living worms sat in the sink.
"The racht were not important," she said. "Not while I worried you might die! Like Dr. Baker…"
"Kahlestra—"
"She was running beside me when those kidnapping slavers vaporized her," Kahlestra snapped. "She was holding my hand. This hand!"
She showed her mother her blistered scars, made shiny by the salve Dr. Anders had given her, and Kurak set her jaw.
Kahlestra scowled, her dark eyes hooded by her ridged forehead.
"You should thank Data for all he did to save me. You should be proud a man like him calls me his friend! But, ever since you recovered, you have treated him with contempt and dishonor!"
"I do not want you becoming emotionally attached to that Starfleet machine," Kurak grunted and rose from the table, snatching Kahlestra's bowl and dumping the long, fat worms back into the bucket. Those that were no longer moving were quickly devoured by those that still were. "You've spent enough time away from your studies as it is. You cannot afford more distractions!"
Kahlestra snorted.
"You getting shot and me getting kidnapped by slavers are 'distractions'? Your best friend was killed, Mother, and all you seem to care about is me finishing my stupid homework!"
"Kahlestra…!"
"What if I don't want to go back to that awful school?" Kahlestra demanded, getting up from the table to face her mother's tensed back and shoulders. "What if I want to stay with you? Get educated in the Federation, where I can actually be something after I graduate! A doctor - a surgeon, even!"
Kurak kept her back turned and her voice low and calm.
"The courts will not allow it. Your father will not allow it. You know how fiercely traditional he is in his beliefs, and the views of the courts are much the same. If he should challenge my—"
"Damn my father, and damn the courts!" Kahlestra roared. "Let them all rot within the cursed gates of Gre'thor!"
Kurak turned, her eyes wide.
"Kahlestra, do not curse—"
"It's what I want! It's what we both want!" Kahlestra cried. "To stay here - to do as we please when we please without fearing what he might think, what he might do—!"
"I pledged my oath before the court," Kurak said, her voice as stiff as her posture. "I promised I would bring you up in strict accordance with your father's beliefs and values - the beliefs and values of his House. To break that vow would be his invitation to claim breach of contract - to take you to his home, where I could not protect you. You know his younger daughter, your half-sister, has already had her betrothal ceremony. Do you think he would hesitate to bind you the same way - the way my father bound me? Do you think I wanted to marry at seventeen, to pledge my life, my body to that…that…!"
"It doesn't have to be like that!" Kahlestra exclaimed. "I looked it up at school, and I know if you found another husband, if he adopted me into his House, my father would lose all claim to me. He would lose all power over you! We would never have to think of him again!"
"No." Kurak bared her teeth, and Kahlestra blinked, taken aback by her sudden fierceness. "When I left your father's House, I tasted a freedom I had never known. A freedom I have fought and struggled to share with you. I will not surrender that. Not again!"
"How can you say we're free if he still has the power to take me away?"
Kurak straightened.
"It is not proper for a child to discuss these matters."
"But… What if the man you married wasn't from the Empire?" Kahlestra pressed even though, inside, she knew she'd lost her.
"No."
"What if he wasn't Klingon—"
"Enough!" Kurak roared. "I will hear no more of this. You will do your assignments and you will return to the Klingon school you father chose for you. Behave properly, keep your grades up, be respectful and, when you reach the Age of Ascension—"
"My father will still hold authority over my life, just as he holds authority over yours," Kahlestra spat. "The rites of adulthood are not the same for women as they are for men, and you know it."
Kurak glared.
"We all have our duties in life," she said. "Mine is to raise you. Yours is to learn and follow our ways. Klingon ways."
She snarled and turned away again. Her stiff shoulders stooped just slightly and her voice grew low and quiet.
"Marriage should not be a duty," she spoke to the wall. "It is not something to be forced…not a directive to obey… A life union should be the choice of both parties, and such a union can not exist without respect. Without that, I will be no one's wife."
"But, that's how it is in the Federation!" Kahlestra tried. "They believe in love, and respect is a big part of that. Data knows. And, you can ask Dr. Crusher! She was married and has a son—"
"Daughter!" Kurak snapped and spun around.
Kahlestra stiffened, well aware she'd pressed the issue far too far.
Her mother advanced on her, her eyes ice hard.
"You will speak no more on this subject," she ordered fiercely. "Not now, not later."
Kurak grabbed a padd from the table and strode across the small living room toward the dome's outer door, calling over her shoulder: "If you will not eat good racht, eat some zilm'kach fruit and get back to your studies. I have work to do."
Kahlestra snarled and slammed her scarred fist against the table.
Kurak did not look back. She walked through the sliding doors into the chilly desert morning - only to gasp when she found Data standing just outside the dome.
His pale face reddened awkwardly when he saw her, and he quickly smoothed a hand over his wind-ruffled hair.
"Hello," he said, and tried a smile. "Good morning. It seems we are to be partners today."
"How long have you been standing there!" she demanded, switching to Standard without a thought.
The android blinked.
"You said to meet you outside your dome at 0700. It is currently—"
"Data!"
He turned his head to see Kahlestra standing in the doorway, her arms wide, and his expression warmed considerably.
"Good morning, Kay!" he greeted, letting the laughing girl jump into his arms and giving her a playful spin before setting her down on the sand beside them. "And, what are your plans for the day?"
"Homework," Kahlestra grunted, sliding a cold glance toward her mother. "What else?"
"Ishta also has an assignment," Data told her. "And, though she will not admit it, I fear she greatly doubts her ability to complete the work to her own satisfaction. Perhaps, if you—"
"My daughter has her own work to complete," Kurak snapped, stepping between Kahlestra and the android. "She has no time to waste on that Orion ha'DIbaH."
"Mother!" Kahlestra exclaimed.
"No, no, you misunderstand!" Data said, his face reddening again under Kurak's angry glare. "I would not suggest Kahlestra leave your dome without first receiving your permission. But, I do have a proposal we may all find beneficial. If I may explain...?"
Kurak gave a wary grunt, but Kahlestra said, "Yeah, go ahead!"
"I was speaking with Mikey on this topic last night while modifying the stasis field I developed to aid his upcoming surgery, and he made a suggestion I found startlingly insightful."
"What did he say?" Kahlestra asked.
Data glanced at Kurak.
"He suggested, if the two girls were do their respective work together, in the same room, the competitive spark that exists between them may prompt Ishta to overcome her doubts. She may treat the assignment more as a challenge to conquer than as a test of the scholastic skills she fears she sorely lacks."
"Then, I wouldn't have to do anything!" Kahlestra said, catching on at once. "I'd just sit there and do my homework and she'd do her homework, and that would be it!"
"Yes, exactly," Data said. "But, your mother must be agreeable to the idea."
"Well, Mother?" Kahlestra asked. "Can I? I did get a lot more done when I did my work in the clinic with Mikey and Ishta and Counselor Troi. It was a lot easier to concentrate knowing I wasn't missing anything. And, it sucks so much having to sit alone in our dome all day!"
Kurak bared her teeth in a terrible scowl, which only grew fiercer when she saw Kahlestra reach for the android's hand.
"Very well," she rumbled under her breath, and both Kahlestra and Data shared a brilliant smile. "You may do your work in the company of that Orion child. But I want you to complete four skill packets instead of three, and I will review your work tonight."
"Yes, Mother. Thank you!" Kahlestra cheered, and rushed forward to clasp Kurak around the middle.
Kurak rested a hand on her daughter's shoulder, then used it to push her toward the dome.
"Collect your things, and remember to eat a good lunch," she said.
"I will!" Kahlestra said, still beaming. "Thanks, Data!"
As the dome's doors slid closed behind her, Data turned his smile to Kurak.
"I appreciate your underst—" he started, only shuffle back with an alarmed blink when he saw Kurak glaring at him with such coldness in her eyes he actually felt the need to swallow.
"I…?" he stammered in befuddlement.
Her snarl deepened.
"The lab is this way," she spat and strode ahead.
Data moved quickly to catch up.
"Kurak!" he said, "Please know, it was not my intention to offend—"
"Only to interfere?" Kurak snapped, spinning around to face him.
Data blinked again.
"No," he said. "Not at all! I merely—"
"Did I not tell you to leave my daughter to me?"
"I apologize. I was thinking only of the benefits your daughter's example may—"
"My daughter has responsibilities, android," she snarled. "Responsibilities she cannot be allowed to shirk. Do not attempt to play us against each other in this manner again."
Data shook his head, completely flummoxed by her accusation.
"I did not—"
But she had marched ahead again, her strides so long and quick he'd have to jog to close the gap.
Data sighed and reached up to rub away the sudden stinging in his eyes, his pulse throbbing to a whirl of awkward emotions he couldn't start to figure out.
"Dammit..."
He'd imagined this morning so differently… He'd pictured himself greeting Kurak at her door...complimenting her on the wrenching beauty of her aria... He'd seen the morning sun dancing on her hair as they walked together through the sand...their minds meeting on a strategy to return her lab to working order…
He couldn't express exactly why, but he'd wanted so badly to make a good impression. To show her that, despite the reluctance they had both voiced at the meeting, he had been looking forward to learning more about her. Surely, someone who sang with such passion could not be as cold or close-minded as she seemed...
But now...
Dr. Crusher had warned him. She'd told him to give Kurak space, to respect her decision to isolate her daughter, and what had he done?
Set himself up as a threat, that's what he'd done. A challenge to her authority. Any walls blocking their communication now would be entirely of his own making.
"It seems every approach I try with her is wrong," he muttered, a cloud of misery rolling over him as he trailed the angry Klingon to her ruined lab. "Why must someone so talented be so...so frustratingly hostile!"
To Be Continued...
References Include - TNG: Devil's Due; Redemption; Birthright; Rightful Heir; Suspicions; Firstborn; DS9: Melora; Sons of Mogh; VOY: Barge of the Dead. 'Kuaizi' is Chinese for 'chopsticks.'
Thanks so much for reading, and for all your wonderful reviews! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Until next time! :D