8
You can jail a Revolutionary, but you can't jail the Revolution – Huey Newton
The remaining Daranaean ships returned to their base. The Excelsior and the Cochrane returned to orbiting Daranaea. "I suppose we need to collect the shuttles," Jonathan said, "open a channel to their Beta Council," he said to Hoshi.
"Ready."
"Captain! We were just about ready to contact you. We want to thank you for what you have done for us," Arnis said.
"Would it be all right if we returned tomorrow to pick up our shuttles? I think my people would like to rest and, frankly, I wouldn't blame them."
"By all means. Next time, I hope to have purchased new wives and will be able to properly entertain you in my own home. We are a loyal people and we owe you our appreciation. Thank you again. Daranaea out."
Jonathan sighed. "I'll be in my Ready Room."
=/\=
Jonathan dictated once he got into his Ready Room.
"Captain's star log, April nineteenth, 2165. Today we spent some time with the Daranaeans. The reason was twofold, so far as I am concerned. One reason was to see if we could, perhaps, get off on a better foot with them, as First Contact was rather difficult. The second reason was to determine whether a perceived threat by the Klingons was truly as bad as they had said. We learned that it was."
He paused to sip a glass of iced tea.
"We engaged in a small battle with three Klingon Birds of Prey. We managed to damage all three of those ships, including fairly heavy damage to one of them. I don't know if the Klingons will be returning. There was nuclear fission detected and so I figure they will probably want to return and continue whatever they were doing, whether it was weapons testing or generating power. I fear that there will be more of these engagements."
He paused briefly.
"The battle was conducted with not only the Cochrane and the Excelsior, but also with a number of Daranaean ships, under their Alpha commander, a man named Acreon. The Daranaeans don't have a lot of firepower but they did draw fire from the Klingons and helped to corral them so that the Cochrane and the Excelsior could fire most efficiently. Several Daranaean ships were lost in the attempt, but they also succeeded in helping us repel the Klingons. Their help was invaluable. We were damaged only slightly. I doubt we would have gotten off as easily as we did without them."
He backed up the log to listen to what he had so far, and then continued.
"The Daranaeans' willingness to fight and die with us makes the rest of this that much more difficult. These seem to be decent people, with much to offer the Federation, and not just in terms of our being able to study them. But their treatment of women is appalling, and it makes me wonder – as the Federation grows, will we begin to have minimal standards for membership? Or will we take in just anybody? What I am asking is will we ever have a minimal standard for sentient beings' rights?"
He stopped dictating, unsure of what to say next.
=/\=
Back in his quarters, Malcolm made a call. There was only one person he wanted to talk to. "Oh, hi," she smiled as soon as she saw it was him on the viewer. "I'll go get Declan."
"No, no, please, not yet. I should like to speak with only you."
"Of course," she said.
"We had contact with a species today, called the Daranaeans," Malcolm said, "and I, I don't quite know what to do."
"I'm sure you'll figure something out. You always do."
"We, it's that, we fought a battle with them today. Side by side, as it were, and some of their ships were lost and their people were killed."
"What about the Cochrane? Are you okay?" she was distressed.
"I am all right, and we didn't have any injuries beyond a few little bumps and bruises. But they had some deaths and ship losses. They, they wanted us to help them repel Klingon incursions, and we did. But I wonder if there will be more days like today. The Klingons, I suspect, will return."
"So you think this is a sticky tar baby you're getting yourselves into?"
"That's a part of it. But, you see, it's also because of the way they treat their women. They buy and sell them, they readily dismiss their opinions, I, it's hard to watch."
"You don't have to spend time with them all the time, you know."
"I know. But if this wasn't a strategic location, I doubt very much that we would be here at all. We are caught, a bit. They are," he said, touching the metallic cuff again, "rather hard to take. I met a little girl, about Declan's age. Under other circumstances, I would have encouraged the parents to stay in touch, and perhaps the children could play together some day. But this little girl was frightened of me."
"Well, you were a stranger."
"Probably, but it was also that they said that all of the younger children were in some sort of learning room, except for that one. She was deliberately being kept out of it. They said that that caste didn't believe in education."
"Well, if they're bought and sold, I imagine they're a bit like slaves," she said, "and didn't American slave owners keep their slaves illiterate?"
"That's right," he said, "I, can I ask something?"
"Ask anything, any time."
"Would you be very disappointed if I were to resign?"
"Resign?"
"Yes, I, I haven't thought this all the way through, but I am thoroughly disgusted by this. Their people clearly have impulses to help, but with the way they treat their women, I fear I shall never be able to look any of them in the eye. They are wrong, they are so very wrong."
"Have you talked to Captain Archer yet? Maybe you won't have to deal with them."
"I am the First Officer, my love," he said, "I know I cannot get out of this. It was as if, what if Declan was a girl, named Diana, perhaps? And we were Daranaeans. We would, in perhaps ten or more years, begin hunting 'round to find a mate for her, someone to purchase her for good capital. Or, rather, it wouldn't be the both of us. It would just be me, for your opinion, it would mean absolutely nothing."
"Oh, Malcolm."
"I wish to make a stand," he said, "I have always been an obedient soldier, an officer, respectful of the chain of command. But I feel that I must, I must protest."
"Listen to me," she said, "stand up for what you believe in. It's one of the reasons that I love you. And if you have to resign your commission, or even leave Starfleet entirely, then so be it. I work! We'll be fine. No one will starve. You can always come home."
He looked at her, so far away, on the viewer. "I would die if we did not have the kind of true equal partnership we have. I shall go to the captain, and tell him tomorrow morning."
"Malcolm, there is one thing."
"Yes?"
"It's possible that, by sticking around, you might show by example that things can be another way. Those people are probably so used to the way they are, they can't conceive of any differences. Maybe you can help to show them that there's another way that things can be."
=/\=
"Andrew, can I talk to you?" Lucy jogged to catch up with Andy Miller, who was coming out of a lab. She had the soft baby blanket in her hands.
"Sure. We having dinner again tonight?" he asked.
"Well, um, okay. Can we talk somewhere private?"
"The biology lab I was just in is empty. Is that okay?"
She nodded, and they entered the lab. "So, what's up?" he asked as soon as the door had shut and he had kissed her.
"Andy, I know we haven't been that serious."
"Not too serious," he said, "we have fun together."
"Well, uh, maybe we have too much fun," she said.
"Can you tell me what that means?"
"Andy, while I was on the surface, I figured out that I'm pregnant."
"Oh," he said, and sat down on a nearby stool. "What does Phlox say?"
"He doesn't even know yet."
"Huh?"
"Doctor Nguyen checked me out. It was, I didn't even think about it, but on the surface two of the women we met, they said if you swabbed this kind of leaf in your mouth, you could figure out the sex of your baby. And I figured I'd do it and it would turn up with nothing. But, um, I was mistaken."
"I see. You said it could tell the baby's sex. What did it tell you?"
"The leaf turned purple. They said that meant I'm having a girl. I guess we'd have to wait for an imaging chamber scan to confirm. It's possible that the specifics are wrong. But Nguyen did scan me and he said I was maybe ten days along or so."
"That was after Movie Night," he said absently, "uh, do you wanna go through with it? I'll abide by whatever you want to do."
"I'm still thinking it over," she said, "You know, you have rights, too."
"I know, but it's not going to be my body. Plus I don't have a daughter at home to talk to about this."
"Right," she said, "I haven't thought of what I'll tell Gina yet." She turned the blanket over a few times in her hands.
"Well, I want you to know, I'll go with you to all of your appointments with Phlox," he said, "even if it's just to, uh, if it's to not go through with it."
"Thanks. It's funny."
"What is?"
"The women on the surface – they're completely repressed. They live pretty much at the whims of their husbands and, so far as I can tell, they must be giving in to relations pretty much all of the time, by the sizes of their families. Birth control must be nonexistent or forbidden to them. Yet when we figured out I was pregnant, they were so happy for me. They showed me their rituals. There's one for when you conceive, one for when you give birth, and the last one is for when the baby comes out of the pouch and is named. They even gave me this." She handed him the blanket.
"That's nice and soft. Any kid would be comforted by it."
"They said the mother, when the baby is in the second stage and just lives in the pouch; the mother sleeps with the baby blanket. And that way the blanket gets her scent. When the baby gets the blanket, it's very comforting. It's the softness and the smell. I guess it's also the fact that it comes from the mother, too."
"That makes sense," he said, "all that their babies know is the mother during that stage. They're pretty amazing creatures, biologically speaking."
"They are," she agreed, "but it was also – these women had so little. They have few rights and a boatload of responsibilities. Yet they gave me something that they found to be valuable and they shared their rituals and they showed me that they get something out of it all. Will a relationship with the Federation help their people to see the light and set them free?"
"Freer," he suggested.
"Or will it look like we're condoning their more abominable practices?"
=/\=
Doctor Phlox wrote a letter.
To the attention of Doctor Jeremy Lucas, care of Cold Station Number Twelve
April nineteenth, 2165
Dear Doctor Lucas,
I trust that all is well with you. I am writing because I have had a chance to meet and examine a number of Daranaeans. You may have read of them in the literature. They are a sentient marsupial species – the only one known so far in the galaxy.
I was also able to speak with a Rechal, who was identified as being their foremost physician. He informed me that there is a major disease that they have not yet been able to cure, called thylacine paramyxovirus. I was favorably impressed that he did not want us to do his research for him – he was just hoping for some hints and an exchange of ideas.
Doctor An Nguyen and I were also able to ask about the average life expectancy of Daranaeans. The disparity between males and females, and then among the three feminine castes, was most troubling. Males have the longest average lifespan by far. The last caste females can be expected to live less than half that time, on average. Their lives are cut short not only by numerous rapid-fire pregnancies but by mandatory euthanasia once they have gone through menopause. It is a tragic existence.
I am writing to you because, not only did I wish to share my findings with you, but also to ask a little advice, if I may. Jeremy, I do not believe this to be a situation whereby we would be interfering with the development of a culture. This is an advanced Warp-capable civilization. Yet their treatment of females is barbaric. I find myself wondering whether some form of intervention would help at all, or whether it would simply make me feel better while doing naught for these women. Would you speak to their government, or at least to their medical community, if you were me, and speak out against their treatment of women? I fear my emotions are clouding my judgment in this area.
I thank you for any guidance you can give me.
As ever,
Phlox
=/\=
On the Excelsior, Erika also dictated a report.
"Captain's log, April nineteenth, 2165. Today we had a rather full day with the Daranaeans. What started off as a dinner at a Beta Councilor's home ended up turning into a full-fledged battle. The Excelsior only sustained minor damage and very minor casualties. The Zefram Cochrane received a little more damage but it appears that repairs are either finished or close to it. Captain Archer can obviously speak better to that than I can."
She took a breath and then continued.
"The Daranaeans were extremely helpful in defeating a group of three Klingon Birds of Prey. We determined that nuclear fission was going on, on the planet that the Klingons have been trying to occupy. I can understand the Daranaeans' concern. Aside from the strategic importance of this system's location, it is also obvious that a weaker system is being preyed upon by a stronger one. It seems that, as a general policy, the Federation might want to consider getting involved in some of these sorts of disputes as there is a very real opportunity to do the right thing."
She looked out the window a little at the planet below, and then started dictating again.
"The troubling thing about the Daranaeans is their treatment of their females. Casual sexism is tossed around just as readily as are vapid discussions about the weather. I was privy to two rituals engaged in by the females, which centered on pregnancy and birth. Within these rituals are subtle distinctions among the castes which serve to promote Prime Wives and denigrate the last caste women, while walking a thin line when it came to the secondaries. In addition, we learned that a last caste child of perhaps three or four years of age was not permitted to join in with the home schooling that the other children enjoyed. Whether this was by law or custom or both, I do not know. When asked, we were merely informed that that caste "did not believe" in education – a statement that I find difficult to believe."
=/\=
Hamilton Roget dictated as well.
"Personal log, April nineteenth, 2165. I met Daranaeans today. I can't say I was completely surprised by them as Doctor Nguyen had filled me in on a lot of the details. I recall a dinner with a few of them, a few years ago, but I suppose I had put it all out of my mind. But now I remember."
He sipped some coffee and then continued dictating.
"They are obsessed with marriages and matings. It's a lot like my maternal grandmother was before I came out to her – always pushing me to find a nice girl and settle down. My grandmother came around, but I bet the Daranaeans never would. I get the nagging feeling that, if there are any gay Daranaeans that they must be rather firmly stuffed into whatever their equivalent is of a closet."
=/\=
An just stood in the Excelsior's Sick Bay, a little stunned. The doors opened. It was Erika. "Something I can do for you?" he asked, eager to think of something, anything else.
"Can I talk to a friend?"
"Always," he said, "I doubt I have to ask what's on your mind."
"No, I'm sure you don't have to," she said, "What did you think? You've spent more time around them than any other human has."
"I, well, it's like this. I know that the Federation is small. And I recognize that this is some sort of a strategic locale. I get that. And I also get that they called on us, again. They keep unlocking the door to a relationship with us. And we open it, and then we don't like the things that we see. I can't see that changing any time soon."
"You're probably right about that," she allowed.
"I was wondering, just when do we give up on them? And then, what does that mean for the Daranaean women? Have we let them down?"
"I keep wondering the same thing," she said, "and I wonder if, being female, I'm somehow reacting more strongly to this than I suppose I should."
"I don't think you're overreacting," he said, "I've got that old feeling, that guilt, that nagging feeling that something should be done. But what?"
=/\=
In her cell, Mistra decided to do the thing that always made her content – learning. "I do not have a board or any writing implements," she apologized to the pouchling, "and you won't know much of this. Your brother," she choked back a little sob, "won't remember any of this. Still, we should do this. If there are signs in the, in the place with all of the good smells, I want you to be able to read them."
She put her right hand on her own belly and began to trace with her index finger. "First is the first pictograph. I know it's backwards." She made what looked like a capital Y.
"That is the first term. It means male. See how the arms are raised to the sky? That is because he is powerful and mighty and bows to no one. Next I will show you the term that is in the middle of all of the many pictograph terms," she drew one straight vertical line, short, with one finger.
"This means baby. This means any kind of baby, at any stage. The arms are not up because it is dependent. And we don't know if the baby is a male or a female. So it could be a pouchling just like you!"
Then she drew a half-circle. The arc was at the bottom, "This term is the very last of all of the many, many pictograph terms. It means female. See how the figure looks like a pouch? I have one, and you have one. Your little brother inside, he will not have one."
She then drew a semi-circle with a capital Y in its center. "This is a compound. It means Prime Wife. See how she has a boy child in her pouch?"
"And here," now Mistra traced a semi-circle and several straight short vertical lines within it, using all five fingers of her right hand.
"This means secondary. See how she has lots and lots of babies in her pouch? That's me. And that is you. We have the most babies of all, for Prime Wives can refuse relations and the last caste they, they sometimes, I think they lose their babies more often that we do. It is sad."
Then she traced a semi-circle with only one short straight vertical line inside it.
"That one means third caste female. She has but one baby in her pouch. But I want you to know that even last caste females are valuable and loving. Inta," she paused, remembering a little sadly, "Inta was very kind to your big brothers and sisters. She could not read or write with them, but she cleaned and fed them and kept them company, just as much, and just as lovingly, as if she had been the vessel for them. I wish you could have known her a little."
21
