Multiculturalism ((Torre/Kent))

[Samantha_Kent 0]

Torre bent back, the bat'leth passing over her face by an inch. She was in the holodeck, working out her frustration by doing one of her old exercise programs. She was clad in a pair of tight fitting yoga pants, and a tank top. She kicked out with one leg, slamming the klingon into the wall.

 

She was grabbed by one of the others from behind, and yelled, slamming her head back, and curling her arm, to throw him off. She grabbed one of the discarded bat'leths, and moved to strike the Klingon on the ground, before he recovered.

 

Sam stepped off the turbolift outside of the holodecks and rubbed the back of her neck tiredly. The ship was now on course for the planet of the Hamara race which had rescued the Arcadia crew from radiation poisoning, and she was now starting to feel the effects of the last several days in earnest.

 

Part of her just wanted to go back to her quarters and sleep, but her mind was too active with the discovery of a new race and the nerve-sizzling feeling of a near-death experience, so she had had headed for the holodecks in the hopes of something relaxing to take her mind off things before grabbing some sleep.

 

She tapped the controls of the door and waited for it to slide open and was greeted by the sight of someone else's program already in force. There was the sound of a grunt and then the bulk of a thrown Klingon arced through the air towards the open doorway, fizzling out of existence before hitting her as it passed the boundary. "What the..."

 

Torre looked up in alarm, the bat'leth mere inches from Sam's chest. "What are you... Computer, end program." The program ended, and Torre straightened, sweat dripping off her. She stood, staring at Sam, still rather alarmed. "Sir..."

 

It was the Cardie with the Bajoran name, wielding a Klingon weapon. Well, this is nice and multicultural, isn't it... Sam thought.

 

It also was entirely *not* what Sam had been hoping to find and didn't offer much in the way of relaxation. She had not had much time to come to grips with the presence of a Cardassian on board. When she had first caught sight of Lieutenant Torre -- a glimpse, entering a turbolift on the bridge -- she had been startled; since then she had worked with the Cardie twice, but done her best not to have to get to know her.

 

"Lieutenant," she said, a little coolly, stepping back with the intention of allowing the doors to close.

 

Torre held up a hand, waiting for her adrenaline rush to ebb out. "W-was there something you needed sir?"

 

"Well, the holodeck, obviously," Sam said dryly. "But it looks like this one is occupied."

 

"I had completed my workout...therefore, you may use it." Torre looked up. "Computer, rebeam towel and earring into the holodeck." The towel and earring she had brought into the holodeck were beamed back in from her quarters. She picked the towel up, and patted herself off, before clipping the earring on. It was her adoptive family's Bajoran earring... her mother's old one.

 

Sam watched this performance silently from where she stood outside the holodeck. She had noted the Cardie's earring before; it went with the name. Her natural curiosity about the odd juxtaposition of race and accoutrements was warring with the more primal desire to avoid displaying interest, and at first it seemed as if the latter would win out as the Cardie moved for the corridor. But just as the taller woman brushed past her Sam finally gave in to the questions in her mind and spun, directing the words at the back of the lizard-like neck. "Alright, so what's your deal, huh?"

 

Torre looked back at Kent, an eyebrow raised, her black hair falling into her face. "My deal?"

 

Sam rolled her eyes. "The earring and all that. The name. You know what I'm talking about."

 

Torre's look of curiosity slid off her face, and was replaced by a grim look. "Oh... that... yes. My parents... adoptive parents, were Bajoran."

 

Sam's eyes narrowed a bit. She'd heard about families who had chosen to adopt Cardassian children; it was a confusing prospect at best and not one towards which she had reconciled her feelings. Her father had been vocal on the subject; he had been a liaison to several resistance groups during the Occupation and, while an extraordinarily tolerant man in other respects, had probably even less than the average amount of sympathy for the reptilian race.

 

Sam had grown up with that, and had a feeling that it was a little extreme, but erring in the other direction didn't sit easily either. "Really...brave souls..." Which, notwithstanding her tone, was true to some extent; associating with Cardassians in the wake of and during the Occupation was not an easy way to garner friends among the native populace.

 

Torre looked down. "Yeah... most people said that about my parents."

 

"Yeah, I bet they did." Sam was a little surprised at herself for the tone in which these words were emerging. She prided herself on being a generally stable person. Xenophobia was not in her vocabulary. Four hours ago she had been on an alien ship talking to a bunch of pigs without losing her cool. But just dealing with this one person on this ship for some reason shook up all her usual affability. Her honest curiosity ended up wrapped in a shroud of cynicism and even some mild distrust, despite the Cardie's behavior during the Aether debacle. "Why'd they have to take you in?"

 

Torre shook her head. "They didn't have too... I didn't deserve my parents. They took care of many Cardassian children, but I was the first they adopted. When they died...well, quite simply, it was the worst thing I'd ever felt in my life."

 

Sam looked at her silently for a few moments. How the hell did I end up in this conversation to begin with...I'm too bloody tired for this. Unable to think of anything civil to say and still awake enough to wish to preserve some sense of her own dignity, she just grunted acknowledgment of the statement and turned away, moving into the holodeck.

 

Torre watched her. "I am sorry, but why do you really care?" She winced at how she sounded, but she kept going. "I've seen the looks you give me. Not really a surprise actually."

 

Sam halted and cast a glance back over her shoulder, grimacing. "I apologize for not dancing for joy," she said, and the tone was rough with frustration, at herself as much as the woman in front of her.

 

Torre turned away, her lips tightening. "No need to dance for joy. It seems... the usual for a Bajoran." She stopped wincing at what she said, anger clouding her judgement.

 

Sam angled her body around. "What do you mean by that?"

 

Torre turned around. "Each Bajoran I meet is the same. You don't care how I act, it's the scales, the gray rubbery skin that's the first thing you see. I didn't figure you would really be any different, but hey, one can dream."

 

Sam's jaw clenched. What the Cardie was saying hurt -- more particularly because it was true, and she knew it, and she hated it. "Stand down, Lieutenant," she muttered, for lack of a better immediate rejoinder, her tone tight. "You're overstepping yourself."

 

Torre bit back a reply. "Fine. I will step down." she turned around, breathing heavily. She didn't know why she was acting like this. It wasn't like her, but she could barely stop herself. It was like the 12 years of crap she took, and she finally lost it.

 

Sam stared at the other woman's turned back for a moment, her fists slowly clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her exhaustion was catching up to her. It had to be. Under normal circumstances she would never have allowed herself to even become embroiled in this conversation. Would she? Suddenly beset by a desperate desire to be anywhere other than here, she pushed past the Cardassian lieutenant back into the corridor, making quick tracks for the turbolift. "You'd better finish your program."

 

"Take the holodeck," Torre said quietly. "I'm done with the program."

 

Sam halted but didn't look back. "Shouldn't'a come down here in the first place," she muttered. "Need sleep." There was a short silence and her hand snapped out against the 'lift controls, striking them with unnecessary force. "You got fried worse than the rest of us. You probably do too."

 

"Yeah... I probably do need sleep." Torre watched her for a while, before turning away, wishing she could take back some of what she said.

 

Sam's thoughts weren't even that coherent. She'd been startled by the vehemence of her own response to the Cardie and much as she wanted to chalk it up to exhaustion, she knew there was more to it than that. All in all, not the conversation she wanted to be having with herself right now. "Amojan y'tek…" she muttered, pushing through the doors of the 'lift as they opened and waiting until they had slid shut again before giving in to her mounting feelings of frustration by slamming her fist moodily into the wall. "Another thing to figure out..."

 

Torre watched as the lift closed, before turning around and walking down the hall. After that encounter, she really did need some sleep...