Day of Honor - Michael Jan Friedman
FIVE-YEAR-OLD B'ELANNA TORRES SAT IN A CHAIR IN THE center of her parents' great room, a Vulcan puzzle cube in her lap, and tried to make sense of the silence. It wasn't easy.
Her father, a tall, darkly handsome man with friendly brown eyes, was standing by the curved window on one side of the room, staring at something-or at nothing, maybe. B'Elanna couldn't tell.
Her mother, a Klingon with wild red hair and a spirit to match, was sitting at the kitchen table on the other side of the room, pi ...