Two villagers Sarah and Michael find the truth – with the help of some strange visitors.
William, Jayden (Data) and Deanna introduced themselves to two villagers. Sarah, who was about to be given to a mysterious group called 'The Order', and her fiance Michael. They had initially been mistaken for members of this 'order' themselves but their complete lack of familiarity with the old ones, or why everyone was so scared of The Order in the first place, convinced Sarah otherwise. Sarah has dusty brown skin as do a few of the villagers but she also has blue scales beside her eyes; a mark of her very real empathic powers. One of two gifts that were left behind by the old ones.
The scene was absolute chaos. Four men in hooded cloaks walked through calmly, demanding 'the cursed one' to be delivered over to them. From everything I had seen Sarah was the farthest thing from cursed, and most of her village knew it. A burst of energy shot from underneath one of their robes, setting a nearby hut on fire. The one closest to us reached out and grabbed one of the villagers by the shoulder. Apparently that was the last straw.
“STOP!” Sarah called out fiercely. “You're here for me.”
“You actually show your face?” The man in front said in a deep voice.
“Well, I wasn't exactly eager to lose my identity to the greater whole of the cult.” 'I can't say I blame her' I thought to myself. “But the rest of this village has nothing to do with my people. And come to think of it, neither do you.”
“How dare you, you ignorant child!”
“Where are your marks? Why do you even hide your faces? If you're so proud of being inheritors, why cover yourselves? That siren call in my head finally put it together. Why so many of us turn and hide at the all clear sign.”
At this point she had truly lost me. But she seemed to finally know her answers.
“ 'What is wrong?' 'There is nothing wrong, it is all clear'. Over 1900 years have passed and we all still know that story. The falling bombs the people calling out 'all clear' but its gone, it's passed. There are no more flying machines, no more bombs, no more wars!”
“The rings tell us that story.” One of the villagers spoke up.
“And none of you listened, you didn't learn anything. It was ages ago men were taught to hide below the ground when the sirens blew to run from the raining death but it's over. That fire was said to come for the sky, not from strangers.” She turned to face the hooded figures. “I've seen fire come from under your robes but never from your hands. And if you have the powers of the old ones, where are your marks? Why not show us the sign on your faces? You've never shown us the power of the mind, only the power of fire. How is it you inherit only one of the two gifts left behind by the old ones? And those with the gift of fire never used it to do anything like this. Any destruction that came from their abilities was an accident, done by those who hadn't mastered their powers. You clearly have mastery over your gifts of fire – despite the pale hands and normal fingers you keep under your robes – and you use them only for destruction and intimidation. I can say with assurance none of my people would ever have used their gift in such a way. So what, if anything are you?”
“They are criminals, that is what they are. And we are here to make sure they never trouble you again.” I said stepping forward. “To say that you overplayed your hand would be an understatement. And an epic joke.”
“And how exactly is that?” Their leader asked.
“Ask your lieutenant over there.” I replied. “And you really might as well take your hoods off.”
“That honor should be mine you assi-sian.” She pronounced it Uh-sigh-C-N
“Okay I'm going to assume you did not just call me an assassin.” I told her in an undertone.
“The word must mean something different wherever you are truly from.” She whispered back. Then she pulled the hoods off each member of the cult. Showing four very human looking faces with skin no darker than her own but with no marks on their faces. It was clearly enough to convince the village that these cult members had no valid claim to the power and inheritance of the old ones. That they were in effect charlatans as well as thieves.
Data stepped forward. “And to answer your question...Sajen. When you reached out and grabbed a man by the shoulder, you showed the village your very normal looking hand. In this case it would have been advantageous of you to look conspicuous.”
At that point I completely failed to stop myself from smiling.
“Okay that word, what does it mean in the old tongue?”
“A-Sai-sin? 'one who stands apart'. And if I may ask, what has it...come to mean...for you?”
“Killer. One who has absolutely no moral objection to killing in pursuit of the greater good.”
Sarah actually nodded in understanding. “The furthest 'apart' from society one could ever stand.”
“I...never actually thought of that.”
“You don't know the old tongue, you have nothing to start from.”
“asdiqayiy lays ladayhim alkathir min alwaqt liltaealumi. wakanat ladayhim makhawif 'ukhraa. ladaya baed alfahm fi mithl hadhih al'umuri.”*
“What in the name of...” Michael exclaimed, staring at Data. I could hardly blame him. I couldn't keep the look of shock off my face either.
“Do you understand what I just said?”
“min almuthir lildahshat 'an nasmaeaha tatahadath bishakl mithaliin min fam almusafiri, niema.” **
“The old language, is Arabic.”
“I understand.” Sarah said softly looking at Data with an appreciative smile. “Thank you...Sajiq.”
*my friends do not have much time to learn. They have had other concerns. I have some understanding in such matters.
mes amis n'ont pas beaucoup de temps pour apprendre. Ils ont eu d'autres préoccupations. J'ai une certaine compréhension dans de telles questions.
**Surprising as it is to hear it spoken so perfectly out of the mouth of a traveler, yes.
Aussi surprenant que cela puisse être de l’entendre parler si parfaitement dans la bouche d’un voyageur, oui.
shakhs gharib – Stranger
musafir – Traveler
This is the dialogue from Stargate which served as the inspiration for this Star Trek TNG story.
Young man: Spare her, please.
Daniel Jackson: We're not going to hurt her..or you. We're friends. I'm...I'm Daniel.
Young Man: I am Simon. You have come through the circle of Darkness.
Sam Carter: If you mean the star-gate, yes.
Simon: Then you must be of his brethren. I beg of you, Mary is so young; she did nothing to warrant sacrifice. If you leave her body, the village cannon may choose another possessed soul.
Daniel: You think we're demons? (Simon recoils, eyeing Daniel) He thinks we're demons.
(Sam frees Mary who runs into the house)
Simon: (throwing himself on his knees) Leave her body please! Take me in her place.
O'Neill: Oh, stop it will you. Get up. (lifts him gently) We're not demons. Mary is NOT possessed, from the looks of it she's a little sick. Now if you let us, we might be able to help her.
(Simon pulls the hood of his cloak back and motions them/invites them inside)
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