Family Lines, 3: K'Taal
Posted on 07/28/2020 @ 12:03pm by
Edited on on 07/28/2020 @ 4:29pm
Mission:
S2E1: The Skunil Incident
Location: USS Crazy Horse, Tahlin's Quarters
Timeline: Day 15 at 1900
Having just gotten off her shift, Tahlin sat at her desktop terminal. She was in high spirits; her department was running smoothly, and her talk with the counselor four days before had been extremely helpful. She’d had two lovely conversations with her mother and brother/brother-in-law, and had even sent a message to K’Taal. On that, she was still waiting for a response. She hadn’t yet sent her father a message telling him that she was breaking the thread, cutting all connection between them. Something told her not to do so just yet.
“Computer, check new messages, personal file,” the Bajoran called out.
“One new message found,” came the computer’s calm response.
“Display message with origin information.”
The computer worked a moment. “Message is from USS Viladolid, Lieutenant K’Taal. Text and audio.”
Tahlin frowned. She hadn’t expected a response quite this quickly, but better to get it over with. “Display text.”
The monitor came to life, and as she read, her breath caught in her throat:
I ask now, Memory
For that Fire which comes from your hand.
Let that Fire engulf me, taking my spirit
To that place where the creativity of thought flows free.
I ask that the Owl of Wisdom
And the night-black Raven,
Who, at both your shoulders serve, would
Strike me with the all-consuming Fire of Creation.
Let me sing of the Earth and the Stars,
Let me sing of deepest Sea and highest Firmament.
Let me fill the air with music—
Music to quicken the soul and make it glad;
Music to question and to teach;
In short, music to tell the story of life.
They met there, together, the two of them.
All their experiences, good and not good,
Near-past and long-past, ill-thought or well-thought
Prepared them for this day.
That day, that most important of days,
Shaped all the days that followed,
Near-future and far-future, for good or for ill.
A cold, bitter wind whipped what leaves there were
Off the ground and around in a whirling dance of
Brown, twisting shapes, indefineable against the light.
Droplets of rain fell, just a few, just enough
To cause a wrapping to be pulled tighter round
The self, or for you to duck your head as you move.
This is autumn; the year is beginning to fail.
Soon, white snow will begin to fall,
Blanketing all the land in winter's slumbering
Silence of days and weeks to come.
Soon will be the time of fire, family and friend,
Soon will be the time for story and for song—
Soon will be time for the parting of lovers distance-sundered
By diverging paths, but not by lack of love
Or the greatness of their feelings for the other.
She finished, and her eyes prickled with tears. She sent me… That? Why? What could it mean?
Now for the audio.
“Computer, play audio.”
“Tahlin.” The voice was rich and warm, with a hint of an accent to the words in Federation Standard. “I got your message; it is appreciated. I’ve sent you something that should give you answers; if you’re still confused, call me.” The woman recording the message laughed. “I think we can arrange a live chat soon, but for now, I need to go—one of my folk has challenged me to a Bat’Leth bout, and who am I to delay if he wants his ass handed to him.” The message ended.
Tahlin looked at the time index. Sent just three hours ago. Perhaps…
“Computer, can we establish a subspace link with the origin point of this message?”
“Affirmative.”
“Do so.”
The Starfleet logo filled the screen, there were a few moment’s silence, then a Klingon face filled the screen. “Well, this is a surprise.”
“K’Taal.”
“Tahlin.” The voice was as warm and rich as on the recording. “You just caught me as I was getting back from dinner. That bout ended with the poor Ensign in Sickbay, but its his own fault.”
“You hit harder than is recommended, you know that.” Tahlin chuckled a little, then sobered. “What was with that message, K’Taal?”
“I thought that would be obvious?…” The Klingon stretched, raising her arms to the ceiling. “Focus on the middle bit of the poem.”
Tahlin thought a moment. “Lovers… By distance long-sundered… You’re telling me you’d like to try again?”
“I don’t know how we ever got together in the first place if you were this dense as a teenager,” shot back K’Taal. “Of course that’s what I mean, Little Tahlin.”
“I think we got together when I kissed you after you almost fell off that wall.” Tahlin was really laughing now, as she hadn’t laughed in a long time. “I’d like that, K’Taal. It’ll infuriate my father to no end, and I think that’s exactly what I was waiting for.”
A frown made the other woman’s features, already dark, darken further. “Give that Peta’Q a couple of good threats… Or I could send you an audio file for you to splice in?” She grinned.
“Go ahead—I’ve missed your rants… I’m sure my mother will be on your monitor before long… By the way, I think you’ll be getting asked to be godmother for grandchildren… Anyway, we’ll have to arrange shoreleave together somewhere… Not Risa, please.”
K’Taal let out a deep laugh of her own. “Would I ever take you there? … We’ll figure it out. Transmit me the Crazy Horse’s next port of call… Now you, go, eat—I know its dinner, and knowing you, you’ve been working yourself too hard and not eating enough.”
“But wait, K’Taal, don’t we have…”
“We’ll talk about what we need to talk about later… Get going, my dear.”
Tahlin sighed, brushing hair out of her face. “You’re right, of course you are.”
“And don’t you forget it… Talk to you later.”
Tahlin gave her a genuine, broad smile, kissed her fingers, and pressed them to the screen. K’Taal did the same, then the connection went dark.
A Post By:
Lieutenant (J.G) Lae'Or Tahlin
Chief of Security/Tactical
USS Crazy Horse
