This is another sort of experimental character introduction piece that I haven't done a tremendous amount of editing on. I wanted to consider the effects of hybridization, as often in Trek it's impacts are only psychological; feeling like you don't fit in, being ostracized, etc. For T'Kaen, my interest was in also exploring the potential biological drawbacks, which is something I take a lot of interest in due to my own genetic issues.
During their courtship, T'Kaen and Nicholas had never discussed the matter of children. T'Kaen had always assumed that her paramour had understood that she had no interest in maternity. Between the risks inherent to her position as chief of security, and the medical issues arising from her own hybrid genetics, she couldn’t fathom him seriously considering parenthood.
Still, after she’d accepted his proposal, he’d pushed her to go down to Sickbay, and to see if it was at least possible for them to have children together. “It doesn’t change how I feel for you either way,” he’d assured her. “Who knows, though? Someday you may wish to be a mother, and it would be best if we knew our options.”
T'Kaen had opened her mouth to disagree, but upon seeing the love in her fiancé’s eyes, a small smile replaced the argument that she’d prepared. “It can’t hurt to see.” When asked later, the Klingon-Vulcan hybrid grudgingly confessed to a certain amount of hope that had arisen at the thought. Sure, her own life had frequently been plagued by illness and misunderstanding resulting from her unusual genetic contributors. But enduring such troubles had given her strength unparalleled by most others. There was also the chance that Nicholas’ human genetics would help to negate some of the weaknesses that she’d likely pass on.
It wasn’t like she’d be the first chief of security to have children while still active with Starfleet either, and with the Dominion War now over, Starfleet had begun to loosen its restrictions on having families aboard starships. Nicholas himself was a civilian scientist, whose unique research in rare astronomical phenomenon made him an invaluable asset to Starfleet. But as a civilian, he had far less obligations than T'Kaen did, and could devote much of his time to child-rearing.
Regardless of what Nicholas had said, she knew that the news they’d received had displeased him. He’d nodded calmly, smiled weakly at T'Kaen, and patted her knee reassuringly. “Oh well. There are always other options if we want to take them.” She’d put on a brave face, and went back to her duties about the USS Goethe as though nothing had occurred.
Nicholas hadn’t precisely acted distant afterwards, but he’d certainly spent a lot of time in the science lab. He’d assured he was just working on some important new research, and she told herself that she was just worrying over nothing. When her transfer to the Impetuous came through, she’d been somewhat relieved. Three years at the far reaches of Federation space would hopefully give them a chance to rekindle their romance. Or perhaps, she’d thought, I just like the idea that he can’t just up and leave.
When they’d departed the Goethe at Deep Space 9 two weeks later, Nicholas had kissed her quickly, promising to meet her aboard the Impetuous once he’d met with some colleagues from the Bajoran Science Institute.
T'Kaen had continued on to the Impetuous, where she’d checked in with Captain Lin before heading to the quarters she’d been assigned. The Saber-class crew accommodations were significantly smaller than the quarters she’d had aboard the Nova-class Goethe, and the communique awaiting her explained why.
Toggling on the message, she was greeted by Nicholas’ face. He looked tired, and she checked the timestamp on the recording. It was 12 hours old, having been sent shortly before the Goethe had passed through the wormhole.
“T'Kaen… I’m sorry to do this in such a fashion but… I just couldn’t find the nerve to tell you in person. I love you— you know that I do— but I just can’t continue living a lie. I thought I was alright with not having children, but I’m not. I know there are options but I've always wanted to do things the natural way. I wanted to try and work things out so we could get past this but… I can’t just throw my life away. Thirty-six months on the other side of Federation territory would leave me hugely behind the curve in my career. I hope you understand.”
T'Kaen paused the message before it terminated, and studied her now-former lover’s face. How long had he looked so weary? How much of the sadness in his eyes was because of her? Obviously she’d misunderstood his desires if she had once thought that he wasn’t interested in starting a family.
She took a deep breath, before letting it out slowly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and the room seemed to constrict around her. She was dimly aware of her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand, and she forced herself to unclench her fists. She wanted to be angry; in fact, she could feel her blood running hot through her body. But force of will conditioned by intense training allowed her to keep from smashing everything that she could get her hands on.
Busy yourself, she thought. She needed some manner of distraction while she came to terms with the thoughts and emotions tumbling around within her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say that she was surprised, and she ran over her interactions with Nicholas since that fateful day in her mind, examining each for an opportunity to have prevented his departure. Without thinking, she walked over to the cargo container that held many of her things and began to unpack it, hoping that if she kept her hands busy, she’d feel better.
Unfortunately, after five years of being together, nearly everything T’Kaen owned reminded her of Nicholas. She paused to re-evaluate her mental status when she noticed that her hands were shaking, but found that she had slipped into an indifferent emotional state at some point. Scowling, she paid attention to her surroundings for a moment, and realized that the Impetuous was clearly travelling at ¼ impulse.
She glanced at her chronometer, wondering how much time had passed while she was distraught. It was 0300 hours, considerably earlier than their scheduled departure time. As she walked to a nearby terminal to perform a status report, the red alert klaxon sounded.
Great, she thought, quickly tossing on her unifom before running from her quarters to the nearest turbolift. The trip to the Bridge was quicker than she would have liked, and didn’t give her the time she needed to center herself emotionally. She stalked, rather than walked, to the tactical console, relieving the crewman who’d been occupying it in her stead.
“Deep Space 9 was attacked by unknown alien vessels that came through the wormhole,” Captain Lin explained. One the main viewscreen, the dart-shaped alien ships looked like gnats buzzing around the enormous station. In T’Kaen’s estimation, they had no idea how obviously outclassed they were technologically speaking. Her sensor scans confirmed this assessment.
“They’re fast, but lightly shielded and armed,” she said. She knew that Captain Lin didn’t feel the vessels posed a real threat to Deep Space 9, so she could only assume that Lin’s decision to get involved in the matter was clearly aimed at testing out her new command and crew. Phaser beams lanced outwards from the station, making quick work of the vessels it struck.
“Deep Space 9 is still attempting to hail the alien vessels,” Ensign Kaavi said from the operations terminal. “No response.”
“Scan all frequencies, see if they’re broadcasting something we’re misinterpreting,” Lin said. Though the conflict was still fully within DS9’s territory, she seemed insistent on following the proper procedure.
"Nothing," Kaavi said. "Deep Space 9 is giving us permission to engage, though."
"Good," Lin said. There was nothing like a good confrontation to see where the weak links in the system were.
“Captain, something’s coming through the wormhole,” Kaavi said a moment later. T’kaen eyed the sensors for that region, her hands hovering over the weapons console. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she awaited a command to fire.
“It appears to be a larger vessel of a similar configuration to the fighters,” T’Kaen said a moment later, when the arriving vessel had emerged from the wormhole. “It’s significantly better armed.” That was somewhat of an understatement, T’Kaen doubted that the Impetuous would have been able to best it in a one-on-one encounter. Still, this was hardly the sort of conflict that would challenge the Saber-class vessel, given DS9 was in easy range. She found her mind drifting off to other matters.
She wondered what Nicholas was doing. Had he already departed DS9 for the Bajoran Science Institute? Was he aboard the station, watching wide-eyed as the tiny fighters flitted around the station. She had to admit, the pilots were rather talented, if a bit inept at gauging the tactical capabilities of their foes.
“Helm, move to intercept,” Lin ordered. “Tactical, target their weapons and propulsion systems, let’s see if they’re more amenable to talk when they’re not given another option.”
“Aye, Captain.” The Impetuous moved into range, and T’Kaen targeted the alien ship’s primary disruptor array. The scientist in Nicholas had always been dismayed at her career path. Every time you shoot an enemy vessel, you’re killing someone who is likely merely following orders, he’d said. She could almost hear his voice speaking the words.
Shaking her head, she hit the fire button without further hesitation, unleashing a barrage of phaser fire at the alien vessel. Impetuous’ phasers sliced through the enemy ship’s shields with a minimum of resistance, before striking home. T’Kaen had expected a small explosion when their disruptor array was destroyed, and was confused when said explosion served as a catalyst, causing substantial damage to the vessel.
“The main alien vessel is hailing Deep Space 9,” Kaavi said. “They wish to negotiate terms of surrender.” The Orion shot a guilty look to the Captain, knowing that it wasn’t always proper to listen to communications merely because they weren’t secured.
“Hold your fire,” Lin said, shooting T’Kaen a stern look. Meanwhile, the chief of security studied her console, a stunned expression on her face. As she looked more closely at the sensor reports for the alien vessel, a cold feeling overwhelmed her, as she realized she’d made a grievous error.
The enemy ship was configured almost like a row of dominoes, with all it's weaponry interconnected in a web, which finally lead to the warp core. T’Kaen watched in horror as the ship’s warp engine detonated, resulting in an explosion that left the Impetuous’ bridge crew scrambling to grab hold of their terminals.
T’Kaen swore softly under her breath.Who makes such a terribly designed vessel!? Her heart raced, but it wasn’t due to the lust for battle. She’d made a mistake— one that any tactical officer with a modicum of experience would have known to avoid— because she’d been distracted.
"Lieutenant T'Kaen, in my ready room please," Lin said, standing up from her command chair.
Great, how do I want to come off, incompetent or emotionally compromised?
During their courtship, T'Kaen and Nicholas had never discussed the matter of children. T'Kaen had always assumed that her paramour had understood that she had no interest in maternity. Between the risks inherent to her position as chief of security, and the medical issues arising from her own hybrid genetics, she couldn’t fathom him seriously considering parenthood.
Still, after she’d accepted his proposal, he’d pushed her to go down to Sickbay, and to see if it was at least possible for them to have children together. “It doesn’t change how I feel for you either way,” he’d assured her. “Who knows, though? Someday you may wish to be a mother, and it would be best if we knew our options.”
T'Kaen had opened her mouth to disagree, but upon seeing the love in her fiancé’s eyes, a small smile replaced the argument that she’d prepared. “It can’t hurt to see.” When asked later, the Klingon-Vulcan hybrid grudgingly confessed to a certain amount of hope that had arisen at the thought. Sure, her own life had frequently been plagued by illness and misunderstanding resulting from her unusual genetic contributors. But enduring such troubles had given her strength unparalleled by most others. There was also the chance that Nicholas’ human genetics would help to negate some of the weaknesses that she’d likely pass on.
It wasn’t like she’d be the first chief of security to have children while still active with Starfleet either, and with the Dominion War now over, Starfleet had begun to loosen its restrictions on having families aboard starships. Nicholas himself was a civilian scientist, whose unique research in rare astronomical phenomenon made him an invaluable asset to Starfleet. But as a civilian, he had far less obligations than T'Kaen did, and could devote much of his time to child-rearing.
Regardless of what Nicholas had said, she knew that the news they’d received had displeased him. He’d nodded calmly, smiled weakly at T'Kaen, and patted her knee reassuringly. “Oh well. There are always other options if we want to take them.” She’d put on a brave face, and went back to her duties about the USS Goethe as though nothing had occurred.
Nicholas hadn’t precisely acted distant afterwards, but he’d certainly spent a lot of time in the science lab. He’d assured he was just working on some important new research, and she told herself that she was just worrying over nothing. When her transfer to the Impetuous came through, she’d been somewhat relieved. Three years at the far reaches of Federation space would hopefully give them a chance to rekindle their romance. Or perhaps, she’d thought, I just like the idea that he can’t just up and leave.
When they’d departed the Goethe at Deep Space 9 two weeks later, Nicholas had kissed her quickly, promising to meet her aboard the Impetuous once he’d met with some colleagues from the Bajoran Science Institute.
T'Kaen had continued on to the Impetuous, where she’d checked in with Captain Lin before heading to the quarters she’d been assigned. The Saber-class crew accommodations were significantly smaller than the quarters she’d had aboard the Nova-class Goethe, and the communique awaiting her explained why.
Toggling on the message, she was greeted by Nicholas’ face. He looked tired, and she checked the timestamp on the recording. It was 12 hours old, having been sent shortly before the Goethe had passed through the wormhole.
“T'Kaen… I’m sorry to do this in such a fashion but… I just couldn’t find the nerve to tell you in person. I love you— you know that I do— but I just can’t continue living a lie. I thought I was alright with not having children, but I’m not. I know there are options but I've always wanted to do things the natural way. I wanted to try and work things out so we could get past this but… I can’t just throw my life away. Thirty-six months on the other side of Federation territory would leave me hugely behind the curve in my career. I hope you understand.”
T'Kaen paused the message before it terminated, and studied her now-former lover’s face. How long had he looked so weary? How much of the sadness in his eyes was because of her? Obviously she’d misunderstood his desires if she had once thought that he wasn’t interested in starting a family.
She took a deep breath, before letting it out slowly. Her heart was pounding in her chest, and the room seemed to constrict around her. She was dimly aware of her fingernails digging into the palm of her hand, and she forced herself to unclench her fists. She wanted to be angry; in fact, she could feel her blood running hot through her body. But force of will conditioned by intense training allowed her to keep from smashing everything that she could get her hands on.
Busy yourself, she thought. She needed some manner of distraction while she came to terms with the thoughts and emotions tumbling around within her. Unfortunately, she couldn’t say that she was surprised, and she ran over her interactions with Nicholas since that fateful day in her mind, examining each for an opportunity to have prevented his departure. Without thinking, she walked over to the cargo container that held many of her things and began to unpack it, hoping that if she kept her hands busy, she’d feel better.
Unfortunately, after five years of being together, nearly everything T’Kaen owned reminded her of Nicholas. She paused to re-evaluate her mental status when she noticed that her hands were shaking, but found that she had slipped into an indifferent emotional state at some point. Scowling, she paid attention to her surroundings for a moment, and realized that the Impetuous was clearly travelling at ¼ impulse.
She glanced at her chronometer, wondering how much time had passed while she was distraught. It was 0300 hours, considerably earlier than their scheduled departure time. As she walked to a nearby terminal to perform a status report, the red alert klaxon sounded.
Great, she thought, quickly tossing on her unifom before running from her quarters to the nearest turbolift. The trip to the Bridge was quicker than she would have liked, and didn’t give her the time she needed to center herself emotionally. She stalked, rather than walked, to the tactical console, relieving the crewman who’d been occupying it in her stead.
“Deep Space 9 was attacked by unknown alien vessels that came through the wormhole,” Captain Lin explained. One the main viewscreen, the dart-shaped alien ships looked like gnats buzzing around the enormous station. In T’Kaen’s estimation, they had no idea how obviously outclassed they were technologically speaking. Her sensor scans confirmed this assessment.
“They’re fast, but lightly shielded and armed,” she said. She knew that Captain Lin didn’t feel the vessels posed a real threat to Deep Space 9, so she could only assume that Lin’s decision to get involved in the matter was clearly aimed at testing out her new command and crew. Phaser beams lanced outwards from the station, making quick work of the vessels it struck.
“Deep Space 9 is still attempting to hail the alien vessels,” Ensign Kaavi said from the operations terminal. “No response.”
“Scan all frequencies, see if they’re broadcasting something we’re misinterpreting,” Lin said. Though the conflict was still fully within DS9’s territory, she seemed insistent on following the proper procedure.
"Nothing," Kaavi said. "Deep Space 9 is giving us permission to engage, though."
"Good," Lin said. There was nothing like a good confrontation to see where the weak links in the system were.
“Captain, something’s coming through the wormhole,” Kaavi said a moment later. T’kaen eyed the sensors for that region, her hands hovering over the weapons console. Adrenaline coursed through her veins as she awaited a command to fire.
“It appears to be a larger vessel of a similar configuration to the fighters,” T’Kaen said a moment later, when the arriving vessel had emerged from the wormhole. “It’s significantly better armed.” That was somewhat of an understatement, T’Kaen doubted that the Impetuous would have been able to best it in a one-on-one encounter. Still, this was hardly the sort of conflict that would challenge the Saber-class vessel, given DS9 was in easy range. She found her mind drifting off to other matters.
She wondered what Nicholas was doing. Had he already departed DS9 for the Bajoran Science Institute? Was he aboard the station, watching wide-eyed as the tiny fighters flitted around the station. She had to admit, the pilots were rather talented, if a bit inept at gauging the tactical capabilities of their foes.
“Helm, move to intercept,” Lin ordered. “Tactical, target their weapons and propulsion systems, let’s see if they’re more amenable to talk when they’re not given another option.”
“Aye, Captain.” The Impetuous moved into range, and T’Kaen targeted the alien ship’s primary disruptor array. The scientist in Nicholas had always been dismayed at her career path. Every time you shoot an enemy vessel, you’re killing someone who is likely merely following orders, he’d said. She could almost hear his voice speaking the words.
Shaking her head, she hit the fire button without further hesitation, unleashing a barrage of phaser fire at the alien vessel. Impetuous’ phasers sliced through the enemy ship’s shields with a minimum of resistance, before striking home. T’Kaen had expected a small explosion when their disruptor array was destroyed, and was confused when said explosion served as a catalyst, causing substantial damage to the vessel.
“The main alien vessel is hailing Deep Space 9,” Kaavi said. “They wish to negotiate terms of surrender.” The Orion shot a guilty look to the Captain, knowing that it wasn’t always proper to listen to communications merely because they weren’t secured.
“Hold your fire,” Lin said, shooting T’Kaen a stern look. Meanwhile, the chief of security studied her console, a stunned expression on her face. As she looked more closely at the sensor reports for the alien vessel, a cold feeling overwhelmed her, as she realized she’d made a grievous error.
The enemy ship was configured almost like a row of dominoes, with all it's weaponry interconnected in a web, which finally lead to the warp core. T’Kaen watched in horror as the ship’s warp engine detonated, resulting in an explosion that left the Impetuous’ bridge crew scrambling to grab hold of their terminals.
T’Kaen swore softly under her breath.Who makes such a terribly designed vessel!? Her heart raced, but it wasn’t due to the lust for battle. She’d made a mistake— one that any tactical officer with a modicum of experience would have known to avoid— because she’d been distracted.
"Lieutenant T'Kaen, in my ready room please," Lin said, standing up from her command chair.
Great, how do I want to come off, incompetent or emotionally compromised?
