The Red King - Michael A. Martin [17]
Pak’shree were born neuter, became male at puberty, and transitioned to female at full maturity. Males were only concerned with fighting for the right to reproduction with the older, fertile adult females. K’chak’!’op had always struggled to take males of any species seriously and to trust their abilities; she would never admit it to anyone, but even Captain Riker worried her at times.
K’chak’!’op moved down the knoll, feeling the gray, featherlike grass brushing pleasurably against her six legs. She had enough time to take in the beauty of her program before the others arrived. Once they did, she would retreat to one of the caves. She would rather have stayed in her nest, away from the rest of the crew—most of whom seemed small and awkward to her—but the captain had requested that everyone who wasn’t on shift attend.
Besides, Ledrah was one of the few people aboard Titan that K’chak’!’op had actually cared for. And now she was gone, too.
In the last minutes before the others arrived, K’chak’!’op began to stridulate her mouthparts and wave her tentacles, lifting her front segment up vertically until it had nearly reached its full three-meter length.
Then, she sang a song of loss to her departed friend.
Riker cleared his throat and stepped to the dais, which was flanked by Admiral Akaar and Commander Tuvok, both looking appropriately somber and dignified in their dress uniforms. Riker felt the cool wind moving through his own dress jacket, though the goose bumps on his skin weren’t the result of the ambient temperature.
Assembled in front of him before the pristine backdrop of a Tiburonian hillside was the majority of the crew of Titan. Only about a hundred were working on ship repairs, maintenance, systems monitoring, or other tasks. The other two-hundred and fifty or so had gathered here.
It was an awesome sight, regardless of the reason it had come to be. Here, all at once, he could see the wide array of people and species that he commanded. Although bipedal humanoids comprised a significant proportion of his crew, the number and variegation of nonhumans was high, especially among the science and technical officers.
Dr. Cethente stood next to Cadet Orilly Malar, the Irriol exobiologist. Cethente reminded Riker of a tall, delicate tribal carving he had seen during his childhood in Valdez, the Syrath astrophysicist’s spindly, arachnid legs seeming absurdly fragile, while the quadrupedal Malar was solid-looking and armored. Next to them were Dr. Bralik, the Ferengi geologist, and Kekil, the Chelon biologist. Nearby stood Dr. Ree and Dr. Ra-Havreii; the former was as stock-still as an exhibit in a natural-history museum, while the latter, eyes downcast, seemed unaware of the swelling crowd behind him.
Riker scanned further and saw so many others with so much diversity reflected in their bodies, their experiences, and their personalities. Whether Skorr or Vulcan, Cardassian or human, Arkenite or S’ti’ach, each of them brought something utterly unique to Titan.
“We are gathered here today to honor our friend and comrade, Lieutenant Commander Nidani Ostiquin Ledrah,” Riker said, projecting his deep voice toward the back of the room. He knew he was echoing the words that Captain Picard had said at Tasha Yar’s memorial service so long ago; the words that countless captains had likely said in countless services across countless years.
“The landscape around you reflects the home of Nidani, where she was born thirty-two years ago. Most from her tribe were antitechnological, preferring instead to live a simpler life, relying upon the land. But Nidani had different dreams. She wanted to explore the skies above her.
“She eventually enrolled at Starfleet Academy and achieved her dream.