<USS Avalon> Defing Our Existence by Li Vilya, Ming Kabuki, & Li Nalas

What some people called old fashioned, Vilya called practical.  Why  
shouldn't she knit something for her child if she was able to?  It was a  waste 
to 
replicate something if she was able to make it herself from available  
materials. 
 The habits she learned from her mother on Jerrado were  obviously still with 
her.  The material, in this case, was some Andorian  silk thread Ming had 
picked up for her at Starbase 51.  It is such a  pretty color, she mused as she 
clicked her needles again.  Such a  bright red.  'It's a lucky color' Ming had 
told her.  
 
Sweet man, she thought, resting her hand on her belly as she took  a break.  
Not only was the knitting practical, it was restful and she found  herself 
sleepy.  "Your daddy's such a good man, child," she murmured.   She let her 
eyes 
close.  Just for a second, she thought.  I get so  tired lately.  Ming won't 
mind. He'll wake me up.
~~~~~~~
The blue glow of the Third Orb became so bright as to be  blinding.  He could 
no longer see the smiling young man whose eyes were as  blue as the Orb's 
glow itself.  The glow softened and changed color,  becoming the soft 
yellow-white typical of artificial lighting.  He was so  close that he could 
reach out 
and touch her, asleep as she was in a rocking  chair.  He blinked, feeling 
unexpected moisture in his eyes.  She was  beautiful.
 
"My baby's having a baby," he said softly, reaching to touch her  cheek.
 
Vilya stirred.  The Sixth Orb was giving her those dreams  again.  Her father 
was there again, waking her up from nursing her  daughter....She opened her 
eyes and they shot open wider.  He was  there!  He was literally there!  She 
let out a strangled shriek of  shock.
 
From the kitchen area, Ming froze.  That was not  the gasp of a woman about 
to go into labor.  That was fear.  He  dropped the knife he was holding and was 
across the room in less than three  steps.  He didn't stop to think.  All he 
knew was that there was some  strange man, who he hadn't heard come in, in 
their cabin and he'd made her  scream.  His hand was around the man's throat 
and 
holding him up against  the wall before he could take another breath.  
 
One hand on the intruder's throat and the other arm across his  chest, Ming 
looked over his shoulder.  Vilya was on her feet, staring  wide-eyed, either at 
him, at the intrude or both of them.  She looked  alright to him but she was 
flushed and holding her hand to her belly.
 
"What goes on here?" he asked her sharply.
 
"Daddy?" was the only thing that Vilya could manage to squeak  out.
 
"What are you---" Ming turned back to look at the man he held  against the 
wall.  He'd seen the news vids and all the pictures Vilya had  of him.  He was 
easy enough to recognize.  "Mother of...!"  His  hands dropped back to his 
sides and he backed up very slowly.   "Loog-Ga-Ree...Wa Cao...no way..."
 
Nalas rubbed his throat, feeling the air come back in a bit  painfully.  The 
young man who seconds earlier had him pinned to the wall  was backing away 
very slowly, his face losing color by the second.  Vilya,  though, was still 
staring at him.
 
"Daddy?" she asked again.
 
Eyeing the now apparently frightened young man, who was, Nalas  thought 
ruefully, rather strong, he smiled tentatively at his daughter.   "My baby 
girl..." 
 He had his hands out by his waist, wanting nothing more  than to put his 
arms around her and to thank the Prophets for this second  chance.  He didn't 
have to ask.  She had her arms around him, as much  as her hugely pregnant body 
would allow, in a heartbeat
 
Her arms were like vise grips.  He was real--warmly,  solidly, real.  She 
hadn't felt his arms around her in thirteen years but  it was him.  Blessed 
Prophets, it was him.  He kissed her forehead  then held her back at arms' 
length.  
Tears rolled down her cheeks and he  brushed them away.
 
"Look at you, Vilya," he said with tears in his own eyes.   "My little girl 
all grown up.  They knew what I wanted.  The Emissary  knew..."
 
"The Sixth Orb...did I do this to you, Daddy?  Did I bring  you back?" Vilya 
asked, still not letting go of him.
 
Nalas nodded slowly.  "In a way.  It is the unknown  that defines our 
existence," he began, using an old proverb.  He glanced  over toward the young 
man 
who had, at first, slammed him into the wall and tried  to strangle him.  "I 
think your young man needs to sit down,  though..."
 
"You're not real," Ming said slowly.  "You can't be. The  last I heard only 
two ever came back from the dead and the first was only  because of the second. 
 You are NOT either one of them."  Yet he knew  the man was real.  His hands 
had been around his throat, prepared to do  whatever was necessary to protect 
his wife.  His hand moved in a gesture  that invoked blessing and a wish for 
protection.
 
Vilya released her grip on her father and approached Ming.   She'd never seen 
him look so pale or so frightened.  "He's real,  Ming.  It was the Orb 
experience and now I have a living echo of it.   You believe in miracles, don't 
you?"  She held onto his hand and looked up  into those beloved blue eyes.
 
"Of course I do but..."  He hated himself for sounding so  cynical but that 
sort of thing hadn't happened in well over two thousand  years.  Have faith, 
Patrick.  Have faith.  Mores es plures  tamen lux lucis est UNUS. "I'm okay, 
Vilya.  I'm fine..."
 
"You look like you're going to faint," she said practically,  "but if you 
don't, come meet my father."

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