The Sato Series, Episode 3: a new Frontier

Ja’Kir studied his mother’s expression, noting the emotion that festered just beneath the surface of her calm façade. “You dislike Captain Wildman,” he stated more than asked.
“No,” P’Arth replied. “She is just—a human, that’s all,” she amended. “And the Sato is a glorious starship. It would be more fitting if a Klingon commanded her,” she noted. “I want you to send Captain Wildman a comm message thanking her for allowing you to tour the ship today. Diplomacy is something you’re never too young to learn, Ja’Kir.”
“Yes, mother,” he nodded agreement. “Right after we finish. And I will ask her personally if Katie can come visit us.”
“A splendid idea,” P’Arth complimented him. “Kieran is much more likely to grant the request of a child than the request of an old friend,” she advised him. “She always had a soft spot for children,” she added, remembering how the children in the auditorium at every basketball game Kieran played got special attention.
Children had always been Kieran’s weakness, P’Arth realized, and surely it was even more a failing with her own flesh and blood. Katie Torres would be a valuable asset to the Chancellor, if she played her cards right.

_____________

Katie Torres rang the chime to the Wildman’s quarters, hoping to catch her mother before Kieran was off to her duty shift for the day.
Lenara Wildman answered the door, smiling brightly. “Hello, Katie,” she greeted the child. “Come in. Have you had breakfast?”
Katie nodded. “Yes, thank you. Is my mom here?” she asked hopefully, fidgeting.
“Which one of us?” Lenara teased.
Katie frowned. “My real mom,” she replied impatiently.
Kieran Wildman came down the hallway just then, fastening her fourth pip to her collar. “Hello, Katie-bear,” she said lightly, holding out her arms. Katie ran for her. “What brings you out and about so early?” she asked, hugging her daughter.
“Marmar,” Katie ignored the question, “Ja’Kir wants to go to the amusement park together. Can he come to our ship?” she asked, trying not to bounce with impatience.
Kieran tried not to frown. “You like him a lot, don’t you?” she asked, squelching her anxiety.
“I do. He’s going to show me his ship today. You said it was okay, remember?” she asked as Kieran set her back down.
“I haven’t forgotten. You mom is going to take you. But honey, I can’t watch you and Ja’Kir at the park today. I’ve got duty,” she reminded her reproachfully.
Katie tapped her foot. “Mom, we don’t need you to watch us, for Kahless’ sake. I’m going to be ten pretty soon. And the safety protocols are always on. What could possibly be dangerous about it?”
Kieran swallowed her uneasiness. “You’re right. You’re old enough to go without an adult there. Has Ja’Kir asked his mother?” she asked, refusing to say P’Arth’s name.
Katie nodded. “She says it’s okay. In fact, she wants to come, too,” she added. “So there will be an adult there.”
Kieran’s blood chilled. She had already said Katie could go, and she could hardly refuse her now, just because P’Arth would be there.
Naomi and Robin Wildman had come out of the back bedroom, catching the tail end of the conversation. Robin leaned over and whispered to Naomi, “We can spare you at the center. Go ahead and volunteer to chaperone, or KT will have a stroke,” she said to Naomi, anticipating what her Ktarian wife would want to do.
“Thanks,” Naomi said softly, squeezing Robin’s forearm. “I adore you.” She stepped into the living room. “You know, Katie, I’m probably the only person on the ship who hasn’t tested out Kit’s newest roller coaster design. Can I tag along?”
Kieran smiled gratefully at her wife. “There you go Katie, P’Arth won’t have to be bored. Naomi can entertain her while you and Ja’Kir tear up the park.”
Naomi nodded. “I’ll ask Geejay if she wants to go,” she added.
Katie looked dismayed. “I didn’t want to go with her,” she said petulantly, starting to pout. “I wanted to spend time with Ja’Kir—with my own kind,” she said defensively.
Naomi was taken aback, but she acquiesced. “Okay. I know when I was your age I wanted to meet other Ktarians. I never really have had the chance, though,” she admitted regretfully.
Kieran knelt in the floor, holding Katie’s shoulders. She did not like the tone or the intent behind Katie’s words. “Honey,” she said firmly, “your own kind is everyone on this ship. You may look like a full blooded Klingon, but you’re not. In fact, you’re more human than Klingon. You are 75% human, genetically. You understand that, don’t you?”
Katie twisted free of Kieran’s hands. “Tell that to all the other geebachs on this ship,” she retorted angrily. “They see what they see, and genetics don’t matter one bit,” she insisted. “If I’m going to get called a Klingon, and be treated like one, I want to know what Klingons are supposed to really be like,” she asserted.
Naomi rested her hand on Kieran’s shoulder, squeezing it to convey a calming influence. “And you should learn those things,” Naomi said supportively, “but don’t forget we all love you just as you are,” she softened her tone. “None of us wants you to be anything but who you were meant to be. And we want you to be happy.”
Kieran swallowed her ire. “Of course we do, Katie,” she echoed the sentiment.
“Then if I want to be a warrior, I will be,” Katie replied. “Ja’Kir says humans are weak,” she added. “What do you think, Na? You’re only half human,” she asked, gazing up at the taller Ktarian.
Naomi touched Katie’s dark-skinned cheek. “Honey, I think humans are anything but weak,” she argued with Ja’Kir’s assessment. “And while Klingons may be physically stronger than humans, strength of spirit and heart are much more important than brute force,” she contended.
Kieran sighed softly, reaching out for her little girl. “Your mothers and I will love you no matter what you decide to be when you grow up—warrior, Starfleet officer, farmer, philosopher—we’ll support your choices and be proud of you. Only, try to keep in mind that your entire family is made up of people who are more human than anything else.”
Katie nodded. “Okay, Marmar. I will.”
“You have fun today, sweetheart,” Kieran added, accepting Katie’s kiss good-bye.
Katie watched as her mother left the Wildman’s quarters. She wondered if Kieran were even half as brave as P’Arth.

_____________

Naomi Wildman secretly invited Seven of Nine to go to the amusement park, thinking if she had Seven with her, she would be less likely to start any trouble with P’Arth. She was thoroughly ready to dislike the Chancellor, but made Seven promise to curb any tendency Naomi might exhibit to be nasty to the Klingon. Seven reluctantly agreed, and acquiesced when Naomi specifically told her not to bring any of Naomi’s sisters. She explained to Seven that Katie was having an identity crisis, and the fewer humans around her, the better, until she got over her pre-adolescent obsession with all things Klingon.
Seven of Nine strolled into the holodeck, where Katie and Ja’Kir were clamoring for P’Arth’s attention as they competed in a game of chance. Katie was a good aim with a baseball, having inherited Kieran and B'Elanna’s athletic skills, and she easily knocked all three milk bottles down with one pitch. Ja’Kir missed with his first throw, and with his second, he toppled the apex bottle, but none of the base. P’Arth tried not to show she was embarrassed that a mere girl, and a human one at that, could throw a missile better than her son. Naomi Wildman made excuses for him, saying baseball was an Earth sport, after all, and it required some practice to get as good as Katie.
P’Arth smiled ingenuinely. “Katie is just like her mother,” she said graciously. “Athletically gifted. I understand Kieran actually played professional basketball, before her accident at the wormhole.”
Seven could see Naomi was not at ease discussing Kieran, and she stepped up to introduce herself. P’Arth was visibly startled at the appearance of the Borg, but she recovered her equilibrium momentarily. “She did, in fact, play professional ball,” Seven picked up the thread of the conversation. “In fact, she was voted Rookie of the Year,” she added with an air of pride in her friend’s accomplishment. “I am Naomi’s mother,” she added, extending her hand to shake P’Arth’s. She scrutinized the Klingon unobtrusively, the way a Borg drone would size up someone it was about to assimilate. “Welcome aboard the Sato.”
P’Arth smiled. “You’re Kathryn Janeway’s spouse, then?” she asked, knowing the answer already. Seven nodded. “I would love to buy you dinner and hear your stories,” she said in a friendly tone. “From what I know of you, your life has been—extraordinary,” she said with a tone of genuine awe.
“Captain Wildman will no doubt have your entourage as guests, and Kathryn and I will be there. Kieran always invites the extended family to formal functions,” Seven explained.
The adults chatted amicably enough while Ja’Kir and Katie ran around like holy terrors, whooping and screaming battle cries from the precipitous drops of the various roller coasters. Naomi had a sense about P’Arth, a gut instinct that told her the woman could not be trusted, and that her veneer, while pleasant enough, masked a much less palatable persona underneath it. She couldn’t say why she felt that way, only that she was sure of it, and that P’Arth must be watched carefully. Seven, who was bound and determined to be the perfect ambassador’s wife, kept the conversation from falling into uncomfortable silences, and Naomi was amazed at her mother, who only a few years before had the social skills of a plank of wood. P’Arth seemed perfectly charmed by Seven, which was exactly what Seven intended, because it was always best to disarm the enemy before engaging them.
B'Elanna Torres came in the early afternoon for the tour of the Klingon ship, and Naomi and Seven went along, if only to be polite to the Chancellor. B'Elanna was grateful not to be alone with P’Arth, who kept giving her lingering looks. B'Elanna could have sworn P’Arth was flirting with her, during the tour, and it made her uncomfortable. She tried to tell herself she was imagining it, but when she saw Seven smirking, she knew it was not a figment of her imagination.
The three women kept exchanging puzzled looks, as if to say “she isn’t so bad, what are we missing?” P’Arth seemed oblivious. She was a gracious hostess and seemed to enjoy their company. Naomi grudgingly admitted to herself that the Chancellor was engaging, to say the least.
Later, back in the Wildwomen’s quarters, they discussed it quietly, each aware that they had found themselves forgetting that P’Arth was the same woman who had put Kieran in the infirmary repeatedly. None of the women wanted to like her, and B'Elanna in particular found it irritating that P’Arth had done nothing to make herself unlikable. Naomi told B'Elanna and Seven about her sense of P’Arth, but she had to confess she had no logical basis for not trusting the Chancellor. None was too comfortable at the obvious infatuation Katie felt for the councilwoman. They decided not to tell Kieran just yet that Katie was smitten. B'Elanna would mention it privately, when the time was right, because surely Kieran would be upset over it.
_____________
“Chancellor, may I refill your glass?” Detara asked politely.
“No,” P’Arth replied. “Come sit with me, instead,” she invited the younger woman. “Are you familiar with Lenara Kahn’s research?” she asked her servant, studying a PADD with Lenara’s most recent journal article loaded into it.
“No, Chancellor,” Detara said honestly. “I read about her in school, of course, everyone does. And I read a few news articles back when I was a child about her discovery of the comet Otner-Kahn,” she recalled. “Nothing more. Why?”
“This is very difficult material,” P’Arth sighed, tossing the PADD aside. “I had hoped to speak intelligently with her at the dinner party tomorrow,” she groused, “but clearly, I do not comprehend the bulk of her theory. Her body of work is very impressive,” she added softly, her expression pensive. “Kieran is very lucky to be married to her,” she noted.
“You have said that before. But you have also said Kieran Wildman does not possess the heart of a warrior, and is not worthy of Klingon admiration,” she pointed out. “Yet you envy her,” she said, not meaning to sound petulant, but failing to mask her feelings.
“You find it irksome, don’t you?” P’Arth asked, amused. “Detara, Kieran may not be Klingon, but she has achieved much for a human. And while I would not want to be bonded to her again, I do envy her for her wives,” she admitted. “They are lovely and accomplished women. And Lenara Kahn is a legend, plain and simple. I have admired her my entire life. Understand, Detara, she was heralded as the intellectual equivalent of Einstein when she was no older than you,” she breathed appreciatively. “She is to science what Kahless was to warriors,” she added, drawing a parallel Detara would understand.
Detara bit her lip, her pointed canines glittering. “You cannot let your veneration of Dr. Kahn interfere with your agenda,” she reminded her mistress.
P’Arth blanched. “Do you think I need to be told by you what my duties are?” she demanded angrily. “Your impudence is beneath you. Go to your quarters,” she snapped, launching herself off her couch. “Leave me,” she ordered the bewildered girl.
“But Chancellor, I didn’t mean—” Detara tried to plead her case.
“Silence!” P’Arth shouted at her. “You will not defy me or I will make you regret it,” she advised her darkly. Detara must learn her place, and it was never a servant’s prerogative to question a member of the high council, and most certainly not one’s master. “Get out,” she barked at the vassal, turning her back as Detara scuttled away. “Send Keh’grang,” she threw over her shoulder, knowing that would devastate Detara, to be sent away in favor of the hated Keh’grang.
_____________
Ro Laren collapsed back onto the pillows, panting and sweating, eyes closing in rapture. “Kittner,” she gasped, “you are too much,” she laughed, hugging Kit’s naked body against her own.
Kit gave her a wicked grin. “That’s not what you were telling me ten minutes ago—you were asking for more,” she teased the Bajoran, loving the way Laren’s dark eyes sparkled when she was amused and sexually sated.
Laren kissed Kit’s spiky hair, sighing contentedly. “Maybe we should go on special assignment more often, if this is the kind of send-off I get,” she decided, kissing Kit ardently.
“This is no send-off, Averone,” Kit assured her. “I’m just working a usual shift until the negotiations begin, only instead of bridge duty, I’m working in Lenara’s lab. You could drop by, whenever you need a break from your investigation,” she offered, kissing Laren back.
Laren smiled. “I might, Ja’clu, I might,” she agreed. “I love you, you know?” she asked softly in a moment of surging tenderness.
Kit studied her face, understanding perfectly that Laren was mostly closed off to her emotions, but every now and then, the vulnerability they shared allowed a wave to wash over the stoic Bajoran. “I do know, baby,” she agreed, whispering and touching Laren’s face. “God, you’re beautiful, Ro Laren. You are absolutely stunning,” she said sincerely. “And I love you, too.”
Out in the kitchen, they could hear Emily and Jenny moving around, putting together breakfast for the foursome. The young women tried to be as considerate of their roommates as they could, and both were making an effort to create a homey atmosphere in their new quarters. Laren seemed unfazed by her promotion, and when they had congratulated her on passing her bridge officer’s exam, she had only shrugged it off, as if it were a minor thing.
Only with Cassidy Thompson did Laren express any of her actual pride about passing and about her promotion, because Cassidy had been so proud of her own entry into Starfleet, and she and Laren had worked closely toward the end of Cassidy’s studies. Cassidy had been bound and determined to achieve her ensign’s pip without any help from Kieran, because she wanted to prove herself to her sister more than she wanted to prove herself to herself. Laren understood that, because she was just as determined to have Kieran’s respect.
“Well, Commander,” Kit said affectionately to her lover, “I think we should feed you. You have a busy day of playing second fiddle to my mom,” she added, squeezing Laren tighter.
“You know I’ve got her back, don’t you, Ji’talia?” she asked, suddenly solemn.
“Of course I do,” Kit assured her. “Laren, I trust you. And I trust her to watch out for you, too,” she replied. “Is there something bothering you? Something you’re not saying?” she demanded, thinking Laren’s earnestness and emotional streak was a bit odd.
“No,” Laren shook her head. “It’s just—I know you’re on edge about P’Arth, and I wanted you to understand, I won’t drop my guard for a second. I love your mom, and I will be her shield if I have to be.” Laren’s brow knitted in concentration, as if she were sorting through every potential scenario.
Kit nodded. “I am on edge. But I know my mother is a capable officer, and an even more capable fighter, when she has to be. After all, she kicked B'Elanna’s ass,” Kit bragged.
Laren laughed. “I still can’t picture that, but Lanna said Kieran is deceptively strong, in spite of how thin she looks.”
Kit grinned. “Yeah, and that was before she was ever a pro athlete. I’d put her up against a Jem Hadar any day, now, she’s so shredded.” She kissed Laren lightly. “Come on. Breakfast, before the other Wildwomen come knocking at the door.”
Laren tossed back the covers, ogling Kit’s naked body. “Are you sure you’re ready to get up? You look awfully tempting,” she flirted.
“I’m starving. And we have duty. Don’t lead me astray, bad girl,” she scolded playfully.
____________
B'Elanna Torres came onto the bridge, hoping to talk to her ex-wife. Kieran made eye contact with her as the Klingon-human hybrid came down the ramp from the upper level of the battle bridge. “Can we talk?” she asked.
Kieran smiled. “Sure. My ready room?” she asked mildly, waving B'Elanna over to the entrance. “Let me guess. You’re worried about Katie,” she offered, waiting for B'Elanna to enter first. “Can I get you anything to drink?” she asked politely.
B'Elanna nodded. “Coffee would be good. And you’re right, I am worried. And I wanted to apologize.”
Kieran punched commands into the replicator, retrieving the steaming mugs. “For what?”
B'Elanna sighed. “For not being creative enough to think of a reason why it was a bad idea for Katie to go to P’Arth’s ship. She came back with her head all full of crap about honor and battle trophies and the glory of blood-letting. Last night I caught her reading the L-Cars data base entries on Klingon ceremonies, most notably, the ones that involve pain sticks,” she confided. “And she hasn’t called me Mommy since Ja’Kir arrived. It’s always ‘mother’, now,” she added, frustrated. She accepted the coffee and sat down on the Captain’s couch. “What are we going to do, Kieran? All of a sudden, she’s enamored with Klingons and their culture. But what really worries me is her fascination with their anti-social means of asserting their dominance,” she sighed.
Kieran sat down beside her ex-wife, puzzling over it. “I guess we hope to hell it’s a phase. And we make sure she never forgets that Klingon customs are mostly illegal in our society, and they could land her in a world of trouble if she adopts them,” she decided.
B'Elanna sipped her coffee. “Oh, I’m way ahead of you on that one,” she said despondently. “She got angry and said that if the Klingons are our allies, how can their ways be illegal on Earth?”
Kieran tried for a little levity. “Maybe we poke her with a pain stick and disillusion her a little bit?” she asked, chuckling.
“You laugh, but it crossed my mind. All I’ve heard for three days is P’Arth this and the Chancellor that. She asked me if she can go to school on Qo'noS,” B'Elanna advised Kieran.
“Shit,” Kieran muttered. “And you said?”
“I told her no, she could not, because I am not moving back there, and our life is here. She said she could stay with P’Arth’s family.”
“Like hell,” Kieran spat. “Over my dead, cold body.” Kieran toyed with her coffee cup, a fretful expression on her face. “At least P’Arth will be tied up in negotiations starting tomorrow. She won’t have time to fuel Katie’s fantasies,” she said hopefully. She thought about it a bit. “When you were growing up, weren’t you ever drawn to your Klingon heritage?”
B'Elanna shook her head, resting her hand on Kieran’s thigh. “I never had much interest in it until I learned to trust you with that side of myself,” she admitted. “I was always busy trying to be like my cousins, instead of my mother,” she recalled. “I wanted to be human. It wasn’t until you and I became lovers that I really explored Klingon culture. I had dabbled in it, indulged a curiosity here and there, but you nurtured that part of me, and encouraged it.”
Kieran smirked. “Yeah, and it made you outgrow our marriage,” she groused, teasing her ex-wife.
B'Elanna swallowed hard. “I didn’t outgrow it, Benal,” she assured the lanky captain. “I just stopped trusting myself with your body, trusting that it was okay to want an aggressive lover in you. I was afraid of hurting you physically.”
Kieran nudged her. “You think I’m not as tough as Lessing?” she postured playfully. “Baby, I can take a Klingon love bite with the best of them.”
B'Elanna laughed. “I hate it when you flirt with me. And now it’s totally inappropriate, since you’re my captain,” she pointed out, smiling.
“Yeah, so write me up on harassment charges,” Kieran said blandly. “Laren will probably toss the report out an airlock,” she opined, sounding bored. She sobered momentarily. “Lanna, I love Katie, and I want her to be who she wants to become. But if she’s going to learn about Klingon culture, I want it to be from someone whose honor is unquestionable, not P’Arth.”
B'Elanna nodded. “Me too, but honey, that child is infatuated with the Chancellor. It’s all she ever talks about.”
Kieran sighed. “Well, I guess until these negotiations are over, we do whatever we can to keep Katie away from P’Arth without being obvious about it.”
“Agreed,” B'Elanna decided, finishing her coffee and standing to go. “Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule, Benal,” she said appreciatively.
Kieran hugged her lightly. “Hey, parent first, captain second, if I can walk the tight rope well enough,” she vowed hopefully. “What did you personally think of P’Arth?”
B'Elanna considered, frowning. “Forgive me for saying this, but I liked her, and then hated myself for liking her. I cannot imagine her being the person you described to me.”
“Yeah, well, she acts as though she isn’t that person, as if the violence was all in my head or something.” Kieran fretted over it. “You believe me, don’t you Lanna?” she asked, sounding so vulnerable B'Elanna thought her chest would tear open.
“Of course I do, Kieran,” she assured her former spouse, hugging her again. “Oh, honey, don’t ever doubt that I do. I just mean it’s hard to picture her beating you up,” she explained.
Kieran nodded, squeezing B'Elanna closer.
“Are you okay?” the smaller woman asked. “Seeing her again—has that been traumatic for you?”
Kieran exhaled in a rush. “Yes. The first night I had nightmares all night. I nearly strangled poor Naomi with the covers as I was fighting P’Arth off in my dreams,” she chuckled. “Which would have been forgivable, except that Naomi was having her own nightmares,” she said softly. “It’s like—there’s a palpable sense of disease in the air, in my house right now,” she explained. “And it doesn’t help one bit that Katie is acting like this,” she added. “But it’ll be over soon enough. You should go back to work and stop using our kid as an excuse to gold brick, Commander,” she advised her ex, pushing her toward the exit. “I have to go meet Worf for a Velocity match,” she said with a wink. “Do you know, P’Arth actually asked if I would play her?”