Book One: Nowhere Plans

Part One: Guardian Angel

Chapter One: "Who Am I?"

* *2378* *

School was going to be boring no matter what Mommy said to make me think otherwise. I knew this even before stepping into a classroom. Daycare had been bad enough, with all those big kids picking on me. I had been so glad when they had had to leave daycare for school. Then Mommy said she was sending me to school! What would I do when the big kids picked on me again? If I fought back, I would be the one getting into trouble. It always happened that way.

I rolled onto my side, not wanting to get out of bed. The most excitement aboard the Enterprise was watching the stars zoom by out my viewwindow. And that got boring quickly! I hated living on a starship, but I didn't know where I wanted to live.

"Shannara," Mommy called from the other room for the third time, "Are you awake?"

Oh, I didn't want to answer her! "Yes, Mommy," I replied groggily. I wanted to lift the covers over my head and almost did. Only Mommy's anger flowing through our quarters stopped me. She was only half Betazoid, but she could send out her emotions stronger than some full-blooded Betazoids.

I stepped out of bed and rubbed at my eyes as I walked toward the doorway to poke my head out. I sensed Mommy in the living area, and she sensed me. I could not tell what she was thinking, though Grandma Lwaxana told me that one day, I might develop the ability. Imagine that – me, only a quarter Betazoid, with the ability to read minds! On that morning, I clearly picked up on Mommy's emotions. She was practically fuming at me.

"You should be dressed," she said. "Your first day of school starts in half an hour. Do you need help putting your romper on?"

"No! I'm a big girl." That was all I needed: Mommy treating me like a baby. Stepping back into my room, I dashed toward my dresser and took out one of my new outfits Mommy had had replicated for the new school year. After slipping out of my nightie, I fumbled with the buttons on the romper. I glanced at my dollhouse setting in the corner and wondered if the children in their world had to wear ridiculous clothes. Why hadn't Mommy replicated something with a zipper? No, I had to have a romper with cute little doggie-shaped buttons.

I ran out to the living area where Eric, my two-year old brother, was sitting in his highchair. I looked around for Mommy and spotted her walking from her room and across the living area to my bedroom. She said nothing as she walked past me, even as I jumped up on our cream-colored sofa. She'd yelled at me at least a dozen times for climbing on the furniture. Her silence alarmed me. A moment later, she walked back into the living area, my nightgown in her hand. "Shannara, you forgot to place this in the clothes chute. When will you learn to pick up after yourself?"

"Sorry Mommy," I replied as I climbed off the sofa. She was almost as nervous about sending me off to school as I was about going. Could I play that to my advantage?

Hungry, I hoped Mommy hadn't replicated oatmeal again. I sat down at the table beside Eric. He still needed someone to dress him. Laughing, Eric reached toward me with sticky fingers. "Don't touch me!" I jerked away from him and he leaned forward, rising up on his legs to draw closer to me. Mommy could make him stop. "Mommy!"

"Sit on the other side of the table, Shannara," Mommy insisted as she tossed the clothes down the recycling chute below the replicator, "and he won't be able to reach you."

Here we go again, I thought. If I tell on someone, I'm always the one getting into trouble. I did not want to go to school! I pushed the bowl across the table and the stuff inside jiggled. I wouldn't eat it. If I didn't, Mommy might think I was sick. Even then, before I understood the powers within me, I wanted to manipulate. I would later regret it.

"Shannara, please eat." Mommy sat down to eat her mush and drink her coffee. "We have to leave soon." She sipped at her coffee and was dissatisfied with its temperature but did not return it to the replicator for reheating. She was exhausted already with the day just begun.

So much for playing sick. I reached across the table to retrieve my bowl. I raised my spoon and swirled the gooey stuff, anticipating swallowing a bite. Eric was shoveling his portion in with his hands. It looked even yuckier on his face. "Mommy, I don't feel so good. My tummy hurts."

Mommy leaned toward me, placing a cool hand across my forehead. "It's just nerves, Sweetheart." She squeezed my shoulder. She understood, as always, and yet she would not give in to my wishes. Sometimes, parents were hard to understand. "Everyone gets nervous when they face something new, even grownups."

"Can't I wait just a little longer? Maybe I'll be ready next week."

"No."

I knew that would be her answer, but I had to try. "I can already count to 100...one, two, three..."

"Shannara!"

"And I can read all the picture books you gave me. You can give me some harder ones and I promise..."

"If you don't go to school now, your fear will build. Trust me. In a few days, you'll enjoy school so much you'll look forward to going."

Me want to go to school! "I don't think so." If Mommy had known that I wouldn't fit in with the normal kids, would she have sent me on that first day? Probably.

"You should go to school for at least a week before you decide whether it's something you like or not."

"Then can I stay home?"

"That is not an option," she replied, though she smiled with amusement.

I groaned. Unable to conceive any more excuses, I eyed my breakfast again. Although I was still reluctant to taste it, my rumbling stomach was demanding to be fed. I slowly brought a spoonful of the mush to my mouth and swallowed it. It tasted worse than oatmeal.

Before I could complain about the meal, Eric leaned toward Mommy and grabbed her sleeve with his sticky hand. "Mama," he said innocently.

"Oh. . . .Eric," Mommy exclaimed. "Now Mommy has to change her uniform."

I smiled at my little brother as Mommy walked into her bedroom. "Good job, Eric," I said, suddenly proud of my brother.

He laughed and clapped his hands. "Yay, for Eric!"

Well, I still had to go to school, but now I had a reason for being late.

After we dropped Eric off at daycare, Mommy informed me that the schoolroom was on deck 21. That seemed so far away from deck 8 where we lived. What if I couldn't find my way back home?

"Mommy, you will come pick me up, won't you? Just like at daycare?"

"Of course, Sunshine," Mommy replied, bending down to offer me a reassuring hug. That was her nickname for me. She once had explained to me that my name meant "rising sun" in Betazoid. "It will be at least a couple of years before you will be able to come home on your own."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this." Little did I know that the trip to the schoolroom would soon seem like a baby step compared to the vastness of the multiverse.

"You will. And it won't take long." The turbolift door opened and we stepped out into the corridor. What awaited me around the corner? Kids much bigger than any who had come to daycare? Some school kids came to daycare when school was out. Even bigger kids would be at school. Would they like me? Would they treat me like a baby and make fun of my ridges? A couple of the kids from daycare had made fun of the way I looked.

"Shannara, we're already running late," Mommy said, turning around next to a commpanel when she realized I was not following her. I was still standing beside the turbolift. "You're making this much harder than it has to be."

Was I? Was there an easier way? Reluctantly, I stepped forward and accepted Mommy's hand. I glanced at the commpanel, wondering if I could use one if I ever got lost. I wished I could talk Mommy into staying in school with me all day, then I would feel brave.

We reached the schoolroom and I hesitated in the doorway. It was much bigger than the daycare. Five rows of desks with eight chairs each filled two-thirds of the room. Set up in one corner, a play center, similar to the one at the daycare, offered toys and games. As Mommy approached the teacher to talk with her, I studied the other kids. I recognized a few who had come to daycare. Others were much bigger than me. Most of the forty or so kids were humans, but a few were other races: three Vulcans, a Telarian, an Andorian and a Bolian. I was the only one with any Klingon features, of course. My father was the only Klingon officer aboard the Enterprise. I sensed that none of the other children were as frightened as I was. I felt ashamed and weak, stripped of my honor. I wanted my parents to be proud of me, but I wasn't ready.

"Shannara, if you would take a seat in the front row," the teacher said, encouraging me to step away from the door. She was a little concerned by my late arrival, though not outwardly showing it. "I'd like to get started." She had a soft, melodious voice, but it did not ease my fears.

I glanced at Mommy, fighting against tears. I couldn't give the others a reason to call me a baby. "Please, don't go," I pleaded barely above a whisper.

"Don't make a scene, Shannara," Mommy said firmly. "I'll be back to pick you up for lunch." Without hesitation, she left me standing in front of the class. Some of the kids snickered at me.

Embarrassed, I dashed for the cover of the offered seat in the front row. The kids closest to me were about my age. The others farther back were bigger. I calmed down a little, comforted that I would be near the teacher.

"Welcome to the first day of school," the teacher began. She stood in front of a large viewscreen. I'd seen one other as large, in Ten-Forward. I heard the one on the bridge was even bigger. "I see a few new faces, so let me introduce myself. I'm Mrs. Dewberry. This will be my sixth year teaching aboard the Enterprise. I have data padds and stylists for those of you who still need them. Raise your hand if you don't have one and I'll come around."

I had played with Mommy's data padd. She let me doodle on it. I was not sure if I'd like having one for schoolwork, but I would get into trouble if I didn't ask for one. I raised my hand and soon, the teacher came around and placed a padd and stylist in front of me.

"Those of you whom I've had before, I'd like for you to write about what you've done over the past several weeks during your break. Did you go anywhere or try anything new and exciting? I expect an essay from each of you by tomorrow. Beginning students, I would like you to sit on the rug." She pointed to a circular, multi-colored rug in the far corner. Two boys and two other girls joined me on the rug. I recognized three of them from daycare. I didn't know their names. None of them had ever offered to play with me. We waited for a couple of minutes, while Mrs. Dewberry answered questions from the older students about their writing assignment. I studied the other kids in my group as they studied me. They were all human; I was sure of it. The one girl whom I'd never met eyed me with suspicion. I sensed that she did not like me. Why? She didn't know me.

Mrs. Dewberry joined us on the rug, sitting with her legs crossed. Our group followed her example. "On the first day of class, I ask my new students to introduce themselves to each other. This exercise will help you relax as you get to know one another and hopefully become friends. Later, when you're more comfortable, you can mingle with the older students. I'll go first to get you started." She paused before beginning her introduction. "Hi, I'm Mrs. Dewberry. I'll be your teacher this year. My husband and I have two children, Amanda, who is four, and Shayne, who will be two in a couple of weeks. I enjoy teaching, especially small children, and in my spare time, I read."

She smiled at us and to my disappointment, nodded in my direction. Surely, she wouldn't make me go next! What would I say? "Shannara," she said, "You're quite a unique little girl. Why don't you share some of your heritage with us?"

"I-" My cheeks grew warm. Why did I have to be unique? Normal was so much better.

"Do you understand what I'm asking?"

I nodded. Why did she want me to talk about my being Klingon, though? It was obvious to everyone. Not like I could hide my ridges from anyone. "I'm part Betazoid," I announced, eager to show I had an interesting side. I wished I looked more like Mommy. "I am only one-quarter Betazoid, but I can sense people's emotions as well as my Mommy. She says it's quite rare for a child under thirteen to have this ability."

"No way!" one of the boys exclaimed. He had short, curly ash-brown hair and was the smallest of our group. "What am I feeling now?"

He was holding back laughter; he believed I was ridiculous. I didn't want to say this aloud.

Luckily the teacher could tell from his gestures that he was mocking me. "Bradley," the teacher scolded, "please refrain from being rude."

What more could I say about myself? My Daddy always told me I should be honored that I was Klingon, but sitting in a group with others who were human, made me an outcast. I didn't want to be different.

"Shannara?" Mrs. Dewberry said with concern.

"I don't know who I am," I admitted. "My name is Shannara Rozhenko. That's all I know."

"That's quite a confession from such a little girl!" Mrs. Dewberry glowed with concern, and then as she smiled at me, I sensed that she wanted to help me relax. "Maybe you have some hobbies you'd like to share with the rest of the group."

I mused over this for a moment, studying the pattern of green, red, and gold in the rug. Remembering about the data padd, I finally said, "I like to doodle." The other kids snickered. "I mean to draw." I bowed my head. Mommy had told me I would learn to like school. How long would this lesson take?

"That's very nice, Shannara," Mrs. Dewberry said warmly. "Thank you for sharing. Bradley, why don't you go next?"

I was relieved as their attention was taken away from me. Within minutes, I knew all of their names: Bradley, Nick, Susan, and Tammy. All human names for completely human children, just as I had expected.

"So did you enjoy your first morning at school?" Mommy asked on our way to Ten-Forward to eat lunch. We ate most of our meals inside our quarters, but Mommy had decided that I deserved a special treat after my first day of school. The older children had to spend a whole day at school. I was relieved to not have to go back after lunch.

"There aren't any other Klingons," I said, not wanting to answer her question.

"No. This is a Federation ship. Not many Klingons choose to join Starfleet. Your father was the first and he is very honored to hold that title. You should be proud to be his daughter."

We stepped inside Ten-Forward and I was overwhelmed by all the people. How did Mommy channel her emotions around so many others? I sensed joy and amusement mingled with anger and fear and could hardly sort out any of it. I concentrated on Mommy's feelings and my turmoil quieted somewhat.

"Let's sit over there," Mommy said, pointing to a small table against the wall opposite the viewwindow. I followed her over, careful not to bump in to anyone. I was the only child here and I sensed that many people felt that children did not belong in Ten-Forward.

A short, black waiter named Eddie came to take our order. "I bet you had your first day of school today," he said enthusiastically. He was delighted to see a child.

I frowned. I did not want to talk about school.

"Oh, that fun, huh?" He turned toward Mommy and she shrugged. "What would you like to order?"

We asked for spaghetti. I was tickled to be having lunch with Mommy without Eric tagging along. Little brothers were so annoying.

Once Eddie left, Mommy turned toward me, resting her hand on her chin. "You haven't answered my question yet, young lady."

"What question?" I said, picking at the tabletop to avoid looking at her.

"I think you know." She waited patiently for a full minute. She was the ship's counselor and knew how to get people to open up. Even me.

"Mrs. Dewberry made me talk about myself in front of the other kids. They don't like me because I'm Klingon. They think I'm funny looking." I folded my arms defiantly. "I wish I were completely human! Then I wouldn't have warrior's blood and I wouldn't sense so many mixed-up emotions!"

Eddie returned with two plates of spaghetti and garlic toast in time to hear my outburst. He raised a concerned eyebrow at Mommy, but she waved him off.

"You think they'd like you better if you were fully human?" She was not downplaying my feelings, but rather coaxing me to carefully think about them. The question hung in the air as we ate our meal. I didn't have an answer for her. A couple minutes later, Mommy added, "Klingons are better than humans in some ways. They're stronger. They have better reflexes."

"But I'm so ugly!"

"No, you're not." Mommy smiled reassuringly at me. She didn't think so, but she was my Mommy and parents loved their children unconditionally.

"I want to be normal," I concluded.

"There is nothing abnormal about being Klingon," Mommy protested. "And as for being Betazoid, it is difficult sometimes to be in a room full of people. You are young and it is rare even in full Betazoids for telepathic abilities to develop before one's teen years. There is a reason why yours developed so early and when you're old enough to understand, I will explain it to you."

I was suddenly uncomfortable with the way our conversation had turned. I didn't want to talk about telepathy; I wanted to forget about it and be a normal kid! "Mommy, do I have to go back to school? Can't you teach me?"

"Sunshine, Mommy has a very busy schedule. I can't deprive my patients. Besides, you need to be around other children. Today was difficult for you. Tomorrow will be easier and the next day easier yet until one day, you'll look back and realize you've learned a lot and made many friends. Let's celebrate that, shall we?" She flagged Eddie down. "Two chocolate sundaes, please."

We hadn't finished our spaghetti, but Mommy didn't seem to mind. I smiled as Eddie delivered the ice cream. Let Mommy have her fantasy and I would eat the rewards.