621 lines
31 KiB
Plaintext
621 lines
31 KiB
Plaintext
INNER TRUTHS
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Copyright (c) 1995 by Christine Marie Faltz; cmfaltz@panix.com
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[The following story is dedicated to all those who have persisted in their
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requests that I write another ST story, despite my present circumstances --
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I'm nearly two months pregnant. (Yeah, thanks very much; just send money. :-
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)) Given "all day sickness" and constant fatigue, this story will be a one-
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parter and has not received the care and attention bestowed upon "Oh,
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Captain, My Captain" so I make no promises. I do promise some sex, though,
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but not as much as you probably expect from me by now -- oops, perhaps I
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should have worded that differently? Oh, hell --just enjoy the story.]
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(This story takes place during the sixth season of TNG -- it's one of
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those voyages you folks in this universe didn't get to see because here,
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large corporate entities are afraid of being honest about sex and sexuality,
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and keep the truth from you. This will explain a lot of things -- trust me.)
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"Captain's Log, Stardate 46823.9: I have just been notified that
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negotiations have been entered with a small class M planet in the Jerakis
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system to determine whether the planet's inhabitants are suited to join the
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Federation. Apparently, the leaders of the planet's people, the Pinktarians,
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have decided that their extreme isolation makes them far too vulnerable to
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remain unallied. They have informed us that they were not aware of our
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existence until recently, soon after a disastrous blow to their economy
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caused by a series of Ferengi exploitations of the planet's most significant
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industries -- agriculture and technology.
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"The extent of the Pinktarians technological advancement is not known,
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but it must be formidable for the Ferengi to have become interested. We are
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meeting with the Pinktarians' ambassador this evening and will then make a
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visit to Pinktar to ascertain whether their admission to the Federation will
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be mutually beneficial."
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"Riker to Captain Picard."
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"Go ahead, Number One."
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"We are in orbit around Pinktar and Ambassador Turamel is ready to come
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aboard. He has his wife and assistant with him."
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"Join me in greeting them, Commander."
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"Aye, sir."
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The three figures materialized before Riker, Picard and the Transporter
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Chief. All three Pinktarians were tall, dark-skinned and muscular. They had
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a barely visible sheen of hair, of a soft, silky appearance, covering their
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heads and skin. This hair ranged in color amongst Pinktarians, it seemed,
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for each of their fairly uniform complexions was contrasted with a different
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hue of this fine, light hair. Their noses were tiny -- in fact, there were
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no bridges to be seen, just tiny nostrils set very close together and
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puckering slightly from their faces. Their mouths were full, their teeth
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startlingly white. Their eyes were intense -- brilliant, piercing. All
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three were men -- or at least appeared to be of the male gender.
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"I am Ambassador Turamel -- and you are Captain Picard?"
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"Uh, yes, yes, I am," said Picard, embarrassed with himself for being
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taken aback. "And these gentlemen are?"
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"This is my -- wife -- I believe is the word used by your people,
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Captain? Jeminee. And this is my assistant Clayta."
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"It is wonderful to meet you, Captain Picard," Jeminee said, holding out
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his hand.
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"Welcome, welcome all of you. We will be hosting a reception for you
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tonight, myself, Commander Riker, and some others of my senior officers.
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Until then, perhaps you would enjoy a tour of the ship?"
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"That would be delightful, Captain," said Clayta.
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The tour was uneventful, as most tours are. The Pinktarians were
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impressed or visibly demonstrated so, and the conversation was pleasant and
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uncomplicated. At dinner, Picard was confident that he could learn far more
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about the Pinktarians.
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"Thank you for assisting me with the replicator, Counselor Troi," said
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Jeminee. "I didn't think we would be eating Pinktarian food tonight."
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"Well, we certainly hope you'll try some of the menu we've selected. It
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will be easier now for us to make choices which you are more likely to find
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palatable. And please, Jeminee, call me Deanna. I insist."
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"I'm sorry -- I'm so used to acting a certain way at diplomatic
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gatherings."
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"I'm curious, Jeminee -- and please don't take this as a rude question.
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Most of the species we have encountered, or at least those that we have the
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greatest contact with, have two genders -- male and female. I am a female --
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a woman. Captain picard is a male -- a man."
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"Yes. We have two genders as well -- we have studied the basic anatomy
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information sent to us -- we apologize for not having put together any of
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that for you yet. There is still quite a bit of controversy and concern over
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these negotiations on Pinktar."
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"So then your genders and ours are alike in more than a -- superficial
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manner?"
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"Oh, yes, our reproductive systems work the same way as well -- and we
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appear to be genetically compatible."
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"I see -- are most families made up of -- couples? Wife and husband?"
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"I have chosen spouse from the dictionary sent to us -- it fits better.
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It seems your word 'wife' refers to a female companion after certain rituals
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of matrimony."
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"Yes, that is true. It's actually a rather archaic word -- we have
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same-sex marriages as well -- but in fact, most people, whether they're
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interested in the same or the opposite sex, do not marry on most worlds.
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Most families are rather extended on the planets -- made up of varying
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relationships and arrangements."
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"How -- interesting," mused Jeminee -- Troi felt that he was ill at ease
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however -- her ability to read the Pinktarians' feelings was greatly muted
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for some reason, but she was fairly certain he was uncomfortable.
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"What are familial arrangements like on Pinktar?"
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"Oh, we have the radicals, you know the kids who want to fight their
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family's beliefs all the way. They wind up in situations like those you've
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just described but our law does not recognize such -- anarchy, such
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disrespect for the traditional family."
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"What is the traditional family on Pinktar?"
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"A man and another man -- *never* a woman -- marry. When it is
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determined that they are financially able to parent, and have undergone a
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child-rearing course, they both are given permission to seek women who meet
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their qualifications for bearing children. The women have the right to
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refuse any requests -- women are the bulk of our work forces and leadership -
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- it was a fluke that my *chikmonshur* -- I'm sorry -- my husband -- was
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appointed ambassador. Though our son's -- ah -- the woman who carried our
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son to term thinks highly of him and believes he is well-suited to the task."
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"I see. So if a woman does not desire to have children, she does not
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have to because of her other responsibilities?"
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"Oh, no, no! A woman must agree to birth at least one child -- as long
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as she is able of course. Admittedly, women who cannot fulfill this very
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important function are looked down upon on Pinktar -- they have a hard time
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of it and often their careers suffer for something which is beyond their
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power."
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"What if a woman and man fall in love and wish to marry and have their
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own children together?"
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"Deanna! Please!"
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"I'm sorry if the idea offends, you, Jeminee, but why not? If they love
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one another, and the woman is generally able to provide, according to what
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you've told me, why not allow her to marry and be with her child and a man
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she loves?"
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"What you suggest is punishable by prison on our world -- a woman and
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man cannot live their entire lives with one another. There would be too much
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opportunity for unauthorized births, and women would require time off from
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work because of them -- no, no. That idea is one which implies a life of
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marriage for no reason except sex -- dangerous, irresponsible sex. Unless
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one intends to have children, one must not have sex with the opposite gender.
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If one seeks affection and sexual pleasure, one seeks the members of the same
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gender. It is simply the responsible thing to do. The women marry other
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women and seek their sensual pleasure from them -- sex between man and woman
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is strictly for procreation."
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"Why not just procreate artificially then?"
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"Because according to our beliefs, a baby born in that way is stripped
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of its spirit -- the spirit is bestowed during the joining of man and woman
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for the sacred purpose of creating a child -- as long as their is mutual
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consent -- and that is why pregnancies must be authorized -- to insure
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consent."
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"So if a woman agrees, she fills out the certificate and files it with
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whatever powers oversee this authorization?"
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"Exactly -- that is so each person is protected against charges of
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wrongdoing by the other."
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My goodness, Deanna thought. What a different world indeed!
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"Do women marry?"
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"Yes -- they do not have to -- marriage is only an institution created
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by the state to record the potential family -- the male couple is taken care
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of by the People because of their important child-rearing responsibilities.
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Of course, either man or both can work -- men who cannot have children or who
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are deformed in some way and therefore unable to find a woman who will agree
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to procreate with them provide child care for such working couples."
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"Why can't those same men care for the children of women who work?"
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"A woman is the carrier of a child, Deanna -- the proper caretaker is
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the male. He is larger, better able to protect the children from harm."
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"What type of harm is there on Pinktar that requires men to protect the
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children?"
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"Deanna, this seems to be upsetting you -- I'm sorry that our society,
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our culture, does not --"
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"No, no, -- forgive me. It's just that I had a child once, and I cannot
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imagine depriving an individual of at least the choice of having a child."
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After an uncomfortable silence, Deanna turned and sighed.
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"Well, it's time to join the others for dinner. Shall we?"
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*** *** ***
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Beverly looked over at Deanna several times during the meal. She seemed
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disturbed, uneasy -- not usual for Deanna when she hadn't sensed anything to
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be concerned about -- and to the doctor's knowledge, no such concerns had
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been reported to the captain.
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"Deanna, are you all right?" she whispered discreetly.
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"Yes -- I -- I don't know. I have an odd feeling -- I'll talk to you
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later."
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"Captain," Turamel was saying, "We were wondering if it would be too
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much trouble to change your plans a bit for this evening. We were hoping
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that your crew and some civilians -- adults and children -- would join us for
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a celebration of our planting festival. You will miss the feasting, but the
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dancing and the talent shows are quite enjoyable. It would give you a chance
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to see our home and to meet more of our people and to make them feel more at
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ease as well."
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"I don't see why we can't accommodate such a fine invitation. No
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trouble at all, Ambassador."
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"Splendid. About an hour after our meal, then?"
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*** *** ***
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"Come."
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"Captain, I must speak with you," said Deanna, a slight frown creasing
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her face.
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"What is it, Counselor?"
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"It may be nothing, sir -- but."
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"Go ahead."
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"I had an interesting but disconcerting conversation with Jeminee before
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dinner. It wasn't what he said -- it was how he reacted -- or rather, how I
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believe he reacted. I have quite a bit of difficulty reading the
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Pinktarians, but -- I'm fairly certain that our picture of family life caused
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him great distress."
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"What do you suggest?"
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"It appears that couples -- couples who are married or 'interested' in
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each other are same-sex only on Pinktar. I did not ask how prevalent dissent
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was with respect to this -- certainly we don't have enough official
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information yet to base any conclusion on, and Jeminee is not a
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representative of the Pinktarians. I may have been given a very biased
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glance into Pinktarian family life. On the other hand, until we find out
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differently, I believe we should pair off as same-sex couples at this
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festival, to facilitate our first encounter with the Pinktarians. I'm
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assuming that despite what I was told, there will at least be mingling of the
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sexes at the festivities, but it won't hurt, since we are visiting their
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home, to make an effort --"
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"Counselor, tell me more about this conversation you had and give me a
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better idea of your thinking."
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"Certainly Captain."
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When she was finished relaying the conversation, the captain paced for
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a while, asked the replicator for tea, then paced some more.
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"All right, Counselor. I'll call a quick meeting -- there are only a
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few minutes to go before we beam down and I suspect everyone is making
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themselves ready for the festival. We cannot ask the civilians to do this,
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but hopefully, we, the crew, as the representatives of the Federation, can
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smooth over any problems which may exist in this respect by our good faith
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efforts."
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"Captain, this question is going to seem -- intrusive -- but I am
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interested in the answer, if you are willing to share it."
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"What it is?"
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"Homosexuality is no longer considered immoral or deviant on most worlds
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any longer -- indeed we have crew members and civilians who are comfortably
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homosexual and nobody seems to mind, despite terrible histories for them on
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most worlds, particularly humanoid worlds. On the other hand, I know that
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Worf is extremely uncomfortable with the very idea of homosexuality and
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claims that he has never been interested in a member of the male gender of
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any species. What about you, Captain? Have you ever had a relationship with
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a man?"
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"No, Counselor, but even my relationships with women are not a subject
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I generally discuss freely -- you know that."
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"I know, Captain. I wasn't going to ask about the relationships if you
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had had any -- I just wanted to know if the idea bothered you -- it hasn't
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been an issue on Betazed for years, and the idea that heterosexuality
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disturbs the Pinktarians seems just as foolish as old concerns about
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homosexuality."
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"I see no reason why homosexual relationships should have ever been
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problematic, Counselor, though as an amateur historian I am well aware of the
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terrible persecution of homosexual men and women. It doesn't make me
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uncomfortable -- it never did -- I simply am not interested and never -- have
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been."
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"Why did you pause, sir?"
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"Counselor," Picard said, lifting his tea to his lips "I have never
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desired the -- company -- of a *man*."
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Deanna looked at him closely -- what was he saying? Was their
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heightened color in his face? He regretted the -- hint? -- he had just given
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her, she could sense that. But what on earth had he meant?
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"Captain?"
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"Dismissed. I'll call for a meeting shortly Counselor."
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*** *** ***
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"I do *not* intend to be seen as *courting* a man," boomed Worf, who
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looked furious.
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"Lieutenant, you can accompany Commander Riker and myself -- we will be
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the three who beam down first to make sure the social environment is
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appropriate for the civilians who have been invited to attend -- there will,
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after all, be a few dozen teenagers coming along, which generally guarantees
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some potential for trouble."
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"Aye, sir," Worf agreed grumpily. He was not happy.
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"Data, you will go with Geordi; Counselor, you with the Doctor. Have
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appropriate pairings been agreed upon by the other crew members?"
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"Yes, sir, with only minimal difficulty," reported Riker, grinning.
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"Very well. We have a party to go to."
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*** *** ***
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The music was loud and grating, something most of them had not expected.
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Trees were festooned with garlands of brightly-colored flowers, ribbons and
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paper; tents housed shows of varying taste and decorum; tables covered with
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drinks and desserts lined the sweet-smelling, scarlet-tinted lawns. The sky
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had hues of blue, pink and gray, and as the two small suns descended side by
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side, a breath-taking explosion of colors and patterns emblazoned the
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heavens.
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Men, women and children milled about, talking and laughing. Picard
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noticed that the women generally stayed with women, however, while the men
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circulated with relative freedom of will. Small children seemed inordinately
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fascinated with the women of both their own species and those of the
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Enterprise -- especially the Pinktarian girls. Deanna's heart ached to see
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the young girls stare longingly at the knots of congregated women, the desire
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to join them etched into every line of their faces. The smallest imitated
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the movements of the women -- their facial expressions, their hand gestures,
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their dancing. But both little boys and girls kept their distance from the
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women -- it seemed the same distance they kept between themselves and the
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newcomers.
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"So, Deanna, shall we dance?" Beverly grinned. "Let's head over and
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talk to some of those women and get a better idea of what this place is like
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for them."
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"I don't know if I want to find out, Beverly," Deanna said, but she
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allowed Beverly to take her arm and lead her to what had apparently been
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designated by sheer use the dance floor.
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"Oh, come on, Deanna -- this isn't like you. This is their world, their
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people, their customs. They look happy and contented for the most part. I'm
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sure we seem as strange as they are to us. Why am I telling you this,
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though? You're usually so sensitive to accepting cultural differences."
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"I know, you're right, of course. It's just -- I'm -- I'm feeling -- as
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if there's something just below the surface here, something wild and
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unreasoning."
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No sooner were the words out of her mouth than there was a muffled
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scream, followed by a rising tide of voices, chanting something. Deanna saw
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one of Alexander Roshenko's friends rush toward Worf, screaming, other
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children from the Enterprise racing toward Captain Picard and Commander
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Riker, all three standing about talking to Pinktarians in the same general
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location.
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There were more screams. Deanna saw rocks being thrown, then saw a wave
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of adult Pinktarians descending upon an area approximately a quarter mile
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from where she and Beverly stood. They raced toward the spot together,
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noticing as they grew closer torn bits of clothing and some blood-spattered
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blades of grass -- Dr. Crusher knew it was blood only because of her
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tricorder -- the color of the grass otherwise concealed the fact.
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Alexander Roshenko, one of his best friends Rashina and another little
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boy and girl lay together in a heap, curled up, trying to protect their heads
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and faces. A small group of prepubescent boys stood over them, wielding
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sticks and rocks. Beyond this, three burly Pinktarian males were fiercely
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beating Tamal, Ensign Jermel's 23-year-old son. His girlfriend Alie stood
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helplessly nearby, eyeing a tooth in her hand -- a quick look by Dr. Crusher
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revealed it was Alie's own tooth.
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"What is happening here?" Commander Riker with two swift kicks and a
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ferocious punch sent the Pinktarian boys sprawling.
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"Don't you touch my son in that manner, you savage!" a Pinktarian man
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hurled himself at Riker.
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"Everyone! Everyone stop now!"
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Immediate silence.
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An impossibly tall woman strode over to the scene, wielding some form of
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weapon.
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"What happened here? Is this any way to treat our guests?"
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"They were *dancing* with girls," spat the boy whose father had recently
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shouted his protest at Riker's interference.
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"No wonder," his father declared. "How do you expect my son to behave
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in the presence of such irresponsible behavior? Why, if he hadn't done
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something drastic, they might have -- they might have -- and in *public*!"
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"Our people have more self-control than do yours, quite obviously,"
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shouted Tamal.
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"Please, please, enough!"
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Captain Picard stepped out to stand beside the woman who had addressed
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the crowd earlier.
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"I am Captain Jean-Luc Picard. This incident has occurred because we
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haven't become acquainted with one another's differences yet, and it is easy
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for such ignorance to lead to misunderstanding and often, as it has just
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done, to violence. But ignorance can be resolved. We are different
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culturally -- that is obvious. But in so many ways, we are very much alike.
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This meeting -- these entire negotiations, -- are meant to ascertain whether
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we can find enough of a common ground to work together for our mutual
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benefit."
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"That is all nice talk, but I want something done about this incident,
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Captain," Tamal's mother hissed.
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"Look at them!" shouted an adult Pinktarian. "These people *marry*
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members of the opposite sex -- scandalous! They think that because they
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control their reproduction with medicines and machines that it is all right
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to live and behave so irresponsibly. Why, think of all the children they
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have who are without spirits because of their technology. Imagine -- using
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technology to promote this 'self-control' this one spoke of before. If you
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had so much self-control, there would be no need for such technology. If you
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required pleasures of the flesh, the All-Seeing One has provided you with a
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natural option -- members of the same gender."
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"That is disgusting." said Worf.
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"What exactly is disgusting about it?" snapped Jakira, turning and
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kissing her lover Sardil deeply. Both women were Enterprise civilians.
|
|
|
|
"See? There you are! She is clearly a woman of great spiritual
|
|
strength -- she knows the true nature of how it should be! At least there is
|
|
hope for you."
|
|
|
|
It took nearly an hour for Picard and Liala, the Pinktarians' First
|
|
Woman, to disperse the crowd. While the involved families were taken to see
|
|
a mediator, Captain Picard met with Liala and Ambassador Turamel.
|
|
|
|
"Obviously, full membership in the Federation cannot yet be
|
|
recommended," Picard told them. "I do recognize your desire for protection,
|
|
however, and from what I have seen and from what I have been told, the
|
|
Pinktarians have significant resources that can be shared with the
|
|
Federation. A treaty is probably the best first step -- as for full
|
|
membership, that can be reconsidered in a few years, while we work together
|
|
on accepting each other's differences and boundaries. We must respect one
|
|
another, even if we never fully accept those differences."
|
|
|
|
*** *** ***
|
|
|
|
Picard climbed into his bunk but had trouble falling asleep. He
|
|
recalled the hatred in the eyes and in the hands of the Pinktarian boys --
|
|
brutal fear and dislike for the unknown, the different. He recalled the ugly
|
|
gash in Alie's mouth, the welts, bruises and bloodied wounds on Tamal's body.
|
|
And suddenly, he recalled Q's trial of the Enterprise crew for the crimes of
|
|
humanity and he was revolted by the thought that the Pinktarians might have
|
|
to go through a period as vicious and cruel as the twentieth and twenty-first
|
|
centuries, when being a homosexual on earth could get one fired, socially
|
|
ostracized, seriously injured, disowned by one's family, or killed. Oh, this
|
|
had been true as well for many centuries before these, but when homosexuals
|
|
refused to be closeted, when they and their sympathizers raised their voices
|
|
and pooled their resources, demanding their right to live and love as they
|
|
desired, it became much, much worse for a while.
|
|
|
|
"I'm so flattered, *mon Capitan*! Thinking about me twice in one
|
|
evening -- a first, isn't it?"
|
|
|
|
Picard spun around and found Q, completely naked, lying close beside
|
|
him.
|
|
|
|
"Q! Clothe yourself!"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, Jean-Luc, don't be so coy! You remember your little conversation
|
|
with Counselor Troi a few tiny hours ago, don't you? She didn't know what
|
|
you meant, but *I did! As if I haven't known all along, darling. Still --
|
|
so flattering to have you *almost* admit it! A coup for Q!"
|
|
|
|
"Get out of my bed right now!"
|
|
|
|
"Oh, not even a kiss, Picard? If I had feelings, they would be sorely
|
|
hurt. As for my ego -- oh, a mere dent, but I'll survive. Come on -- I
|
|
guarantee it'll be the best, sweetest kiss you've ever had -- much better
|
|
than any you've shared with that doctor of yours. And I know you kiss better
|
|
than Vash -- I've tested you, Jean-Luc, from her memories."
|
|
|
|
"Get out!"
|
|
|
|
"All right, all right. How about now?"
|
|
|
|
Picard was startled. The voice was Q's, but the body was not. It was
|
|
long-limbed and supple, silky white skin with a rosy hue. Her hair was thick
|
|
and brown, shoulder-length, her eyes a dreamy mocking brown. Her breasts
|
|
were -- well they were perfect, large dark red nipples erect, pulling at his
|
|
eyes to come back to them again and again. Her smile was all Q.
|
|
|
|
She leaned towards him and leaned on her right elbow, grinning. She
|
|
moved closer and placed her hand on his naked stomach.
|
|
|
|
"*Mon Capitan*, you know you want to know what sex with me would be
|
|
like. You have dreamed about it in fact -- bah! Your silly little mortal
|
|
imaginings! Crude, very crude. Shall we?"
|
|
|
|
Picard couldn't move -- not that he couldn't -- Q wasn't holding him or
|
|
preventing him in any way. His eyes were locked on Q's new form -- the eyes
|
|
weren't much different, though -- in fact . . . oh yes, Q was there, the
|
|
usual Q. Picard glanced down -- still female, still -- incredible.
|
|
|
|
A sudden wave of hot, throbbing pleasure coursed through Picard -- it
|
|
was several dizzying seconds before he realized that Q was kissing him.
|
|
Picard was on his back, the long, lithe body which now housed Q massaging his
|
|
chest, his legs. He didn't know when it had happened, but he was inside Q --
|
|
and -- and -- even more unbelievable, given Q's present form, Q was inside
|
|
him. He could feel it -- it felt as though -- or at least he supposed it did
|
|
-- he had a vagina -- yes! Though his eyes told him he was inside a
|
|
beautiful woman, he was the one being penetrated. Thoughts materialized then
|
|
disappeared in confusion -- snippets of ideas -- to push Q away -- to fight -
|
|
- to scream -- even to beg. But every one of these inclinations vanished in
|
|
the haze of sensation which seemed to become more intense with every breath.
|
|
|
|
A hot ball of excitement seemed to split in his mind and empty
|
|
throughout him -- "I'm making love with Q. Q! No! Yes!" He tried to push
|
|
the thoughts away -- then discovered he wasn't trying -- they were melting
|
|
away -- pleasure was so all-encompassing that he couldn't think if he had
|
|
wanted to -- but he didn't want to. He concentrated on feeling.
|
|
|
|
"And finally you surrender," Q teased, the voice hanging in the air
|
|
between them as Q continued to kiss him. Picard did not understand how he
|
|
was able to breathe -- his artificial heart was galloping away; blood
|
|
whooshed hot in his head. He had momentary pangs of fear and doubt: He was
|
|
being made love *to* -- not making love *with* Q. Even if he wanted to --
|
|
even if Q wanted him to, the latter just wasn't within his power. Q would
|
|
know what he felt like before he did anything, would anticipate everything he
|
|
was going to do -- there would be no surprises for him. He was completely
|
|
and utterly submissive in this encounter -- his movements, his reactions, his
|
|
excitement all choreographed by Q's ability to manipulate him masterfully.
|
|
Oh, Picard knew *he* was responding to Q -- Q was not orchestrating his
|
|
desire. He had wondered not only what it would be like to have Q's powers,
|
|
but also what it would be like to allow Q to do what he liked with him. This
|
|
was the reason of his impatience and seeming revulsion toward Q -- certainly,
|
|
Q's morality left a lot to be desired, but Picard often encountered beings
|
|
whose vision of right and wrong did not correspond with his own. No, his
|
|
animosity had gone much deeper and was much more personal. He found Q to be
|
|
undeniably magnetic -- in the back of his mind he always felt that Q was
|
|
watching him, and often found himself hoping that he was. A few times when
|
|
holding Dr. Crusher close and kissing her, he would fantasize briefly that
|
|
she was actually Q, that Q was once again having fun with him, playing a
|
|
joke, and that at any moment, he would be caught up in a whirlwind of passion
|
|
he could barely comprehend or survive. All the while, he knew Q could be
|
|
aware of these desires -- in fact, his conviction that Q *knew* all also
|
|
incited his anger toward him, particularly in front of his crew -- he was
|
|
terrified that Q would call attention to his feelings in public -- the worst
|
|
humiliation -- or at least damned close to the worst.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, Jean-Luc, your picture of me has been so painfully sadistic," Q
|
|
cooed into his ear, tracing it with his tongue. "What would you like me to
|
|
do to show you I have nothing but soft feelings toward you -- as you can see,
|
|
only the feelings are soft."
|
|
|
|
Q pressed his -- her -- perfect breasts against him for emphasis and
|
|
took Picard's wrists tightly in hand.
|
|
|
|
They were in complete darkness. Picard could see absolutely nothing.
|
|
He felt Q's arms around him; they still kissed deeply, and yet, the captain
|
|
was now experiencing the most incredible blowjob he had ever had.
|
|
|
|
"Oh, yes, Jean-Luc; you are completely mine now. Right now, every one
|
|
of your thoughts, every atom of your being, is mine -- they belong to me.
|
|
Inside and out, you are completely possessed by me -- and what is so
|
|
exquisitely delightful is that you want it that way. Do you know what your
|
|
flippant bartender said a few years ago, when I was helplessly human and
|
|
under attack in Ten Forward? I don't know quite why it has come to me at
|
|
this instant, Jean-Luc. She said, 'My, how the mighty have fallen.' Or some
|
|
drivel like that. Now why would I think of such a silly thing like that at
|
|
this tender moment, *mon capitan*?"
|
|
|
|
Picard was barely aware of the words -- his own self-awareness was in
|
|
jeopardy amid the torrent of sensations Q was dragging him through and
|
|
frowning him in. At each glimpse of full awareness, he would start, only to
|
|
find himself drained of energy and will. As soon as he relinquished his body
|
|
and mind wholly again, he regained all of his energy -- and then some.
|
|
Whether he would survive this encounter remained to be seen, but for the time
|
|
being, he opened himself to all that was happening and closed himself against
|
|
the strangled scream somewhere inside him that told him he should attempt to
|
|
stop it.
|
|
|
|
The End
|