Copyright Marketa J. Zvelebil
The streets of Ka'rakam were filled with the sounds of fighting as T'Charu tried to get near the building where her father worked. She had stayed at home as he had requested, but the fighting had spilled from the streets into the homes.
Her home had been invaded by an angry mob of people, who knew that her father worked as a health-official. They had started by breaking everything they could.
Then they found her brother. Logic would have dictated that enraged as they were at the atrocities they had seen on the vid-com, they would have left her brother alone. But instead they got even angrier, for reasons T'Charu could not fathom. They had beaten and kicked her defenceless young brother, who had not uttered a single word during the whole ordeal. Then when five young Klingonese K'S'vaits had stormed into her house and fought off the original invaders, she had managed to drag her beaten brother to a hiding place they had found years ago, in the garden. There, in the relative quiet of the beautiful surroundings, listening to the sound of the fountain, her brother had died in her arms, saying only one single word. She now repeated that word over and over again, softly, to herself: "Surak."
She ducked in and out of various entrances, avoiding the violence around her. The fighting that she saw sickened her. These people had been living with each other for a long time and now they were fighting, killing each other. Illogical. She did not comprehend and she wanted to understand.
Then she saw two of the Klingonese K'S'vait boys that had been in her house. They were bleeding and shouting a word which she did not understand.
She slipped into an entrance and ran through a deserted domed corridor, out one exit, into another corridor and arrived at her destination. The back entrance to the government building was unlocked. Quickly she made her way, using the dilapidated old stairway instead of the lift to her father's office. The door to the office was open, and she was reluctant to enter, knowing what she would find. But T'Charu had to know. She entered cautiously and stopped almost immediately. Her father was slumped across his desk, an ornate knife handle just visible behind his head. For a long while T'Charu stared at the scene in front of her, memorising every detail. She felt anger and hate welling up in her, and hated herself for that.
"Surak. Surak," she repeated now more loudly and desperately.
Suddenly she heard footsteps. Quickly she hid behind the door and peered out onto the corridor. She saw two men, she recognised as humans from her xenobiology classes and three Klingon-K'S'vait first generation mixtures. She had heard that there was a Federation starship orbiting the planet, full of humans. It had been the gossip round her school only yesterday. 'These men must be from the Starship,' she reasoned. 'If they weren't...' Impulsively, she stepped out in front of the advancing men.
"Help me, please," she said in fluent Basic to the two humans.
McCoy and Offer stopped in their tracks. They stared at the young girl. She was obviously terrified yet had managed to control it. Their K'S'vait escort looked unhappy at the interruption but did not interfere.
"How can we help you?" asked McCoy gently.
The child asked: "You are from the Federation starship?"
"Yes."
"My family have been killed. I am Vulcan. I am therefore a member of the Federation. You must help me. Take me with you," she said in some desperation.
"There is truth in what she says," said lieutenant Offer softly to McCoy, his heart nearly breaking at the sight of the small, frightened yet so controlled child.
"Of course I speak the truth," she said gazing up at Offer, somewhat indignant.
"You forgot the Vulcan ears, lieutenant," McCoy said with a gentle grin. Then he looked at the young girl again.
"What is your name?"
"I am called T'Charu."