Chapter Three – The Third Night

Stardate 47954.04
Tuesday, 15 December 2370 / 26 Kislev 6131
New Haven, CT, Earth

"On the third night, we were cautious, for good fortune never lasts for long." ~ Jadzia Axelrod

By late afternoon on Tuesday, I'd knocked out another final and the snow had started falling again. It wasn't far to walk from my room to the Master's House, where Bright-Star and Wire-Whiskers resided, but that last final had been after lunch, and I was going straight to dinner.

I arrived at the same time as Soloro, and we were both ushered into the warm, firelit home by Bright-Star herself. "There's only a few of you tonight." she said, "With finals week, I expected the group to dwindle. I took the liberty of having your menorahs brought here."

"Thank you," Soloro said.

"Yes, thank you," I added. "For the invitation also."

"You are always welcome, my kittens," she told us, turning around and indicating a direction with her tail, "We're meeting in the living room. Put your coats on the bench and come get comfortable."

After the candles were lit, Whiskers brought us all bowls of vegetable stew and slices of thick toast with sharp cheddar melted onto it. Bright-Star served drinks – spiced apple cider offered hot or cold.

As we ate, the dean began her story, "Tonight, I want to talk to you about Sivao, a planet where the north star beats like the heart of a child. It is not my place of birth, nor Whisker's, but it was our ancestral home, until many of us were cast out."

There was a collective gasp from all of us students, but she continued. "A deadly virus was running rampant among the Sivaoan people, and a decision was made that those who carried it would be exiled to the stars."

She continued, telling her people's story in simple language, with no embellishments. "Eventually we found the planet you all know as Eeiauo, which was the word for 'exiled' or 'unwanted' in our language. After many centuries the meaning shifted, and now it means 'beautiful," she told us. "And that is the definition I grew up with."

"I thought you were going to share your experience with Hanukkah," I asked, but Soloro's reaction, and that of one of the students who hadn't been at the first two candlelightings, told me that I wasn't alone in my curiosity."

"I am," Bright-Star said. She drank some of her cider, and twitched her ears, giving the impression of a humanoid shaking their head to clear it.

"Twenty-five hundred years went by on Eeiauo before representatives of the Federation found our world, and when they did, we invited them to participate in our rituals. We have midwinter ritual where we light fires in clay pots and set them in our windows to remind each other that one spark shining in the darkness is enough to light an entire room or warm an entire soul." Her ears went flat, and she ducked her head, overcome by emotion. Whiskers wrapped his tail around her waist and took over the story.

"Our great-grandparents were part of that first meeting," Wire-Whiskers said, "and one of the diplomats found that our history and our rituals resonated with her. She told us of her faith, and how her people had been expelled from a place called 'Spain,' many centuries ago, and how for centuries after.

"The Federation doesn't send missionaries, and no one tried to convert our relatives," the professor continued, "but many who interacted with those humans incorporated their rituals, just as some of the humans adopted ours."

"That first Jewish diplomat's name was Fermoza," Bright-Star picked up the thread again, "which also means 'beautiful,' and she became a longtime friend of our family. She was at our wedding, and she encouraged us to accept Yale's offer when we were looking for work in education. Sadly, she is no longer with us, but she was another grandparent to me, and to Wire-Whiskers, and while our faith is not entirely the same as hers, we find meaning and resonance in honoring her tradition at this time of year."

"That's fantastic!" A male voice exclaimed.

"I'm glad you think so, Ben-Jamin," Bright-Star said, her ears perked up once more, and her tone full of affectionate amusement. "I suspect your own path to Judaism is worth a story as well, but it is late, and we must finish the evening with dessert so that your dreams are sweet tonight."

Dessert turned out to be different kinds of fruit pastries, some Terran, and some I didn't recognize, but was happy to try.

It didn't seem like the evening had been that long, but it was nearly midnight when I put my coat and hat back on and pulled mittens onto my hands for the walk across the courtyard to my dorms. I was the last to leave, and I hesitated at the door. "Thank you," I said to Bright-Star, "for sharing your story."

"Thank you for hearing it, my cub. Tell me, will Data be fetching you home for your holiday break? We'd love to see him, if so."

"We're still working out logistics. But if he does, I'll make sure he makes the time."

"We would love that," Whiskers said. He gave me an affectionate cuff on the shoulder with his paw, though his claws were retracted. "Get some sleep."

I grinned, nodded, and went out into the snowy night.

NOTE:

The source for Bright-Star's story is taken from the TOS novel Uhura's Song, by Janet Kagan.