GABRIEL:
They're here! They're here!
WORF:
Who?
GABRIEL:
The Klingons!
(A group of people with varying amounts of ridges, including none.)
BROTA:
Q'apla.
WORF:
Q'apla.
BROTA:
We are the Sons of Mogh.
WORF:
You are my descendents.
BROTA:
Some by blood, some by choice.
Our hearts are Klingon.
We live as warriors, just as you taught our ancestors long ago.
GABRIEL:
I'm going to be one of them someday.
I'll ride a wild torga and go hunting, and only come to the settlement to trade furs for the things I need.
PARELL: (a human woman)
When you're older, you'll have the chance to prove yourself.
If you are worthy, you can take a Klingon name and live among us.
BROTA:
The Sons of Mogh are gathering to celebrate your return.
It would honour us greatly if you would feast with us tonight.
WORF:
I look forward to it.
BROTA:
We'll come for you at nightfall.
BASHIR:
Well, it would appear I'm not the only legend around here...
(Worf is by a fire.)
PARELL:
We came to tell you. There will be no feast tonight.
WORF:
I understand. This is not a time for celebration.
BROTA:
Tomorrow we will see the sun rise again, but no one here will see it set.
WORF:
Join me. There is something I wish to say.
It is a great honour to know that my legacy has thrived on your world for so long.
I can see the Klingon heart beats strong here.
BROTA:
You honour us with your words.
We have tried to live as you taught us to.
PARELL:
We've never plowed fields or milked chattel.
We've lived as warriors, hunters.
BROTA:
Last year, I slew a yarbear three metres tall. Your mek'leth was my only weapon. The beast maimed me, and for a time it seemed I would die from my wounds. Now I wish I had. It would have been a warrior's death.
PARELL:
He could have taken his place among the honoured dead in Sto'Vo'Kor.
WORF:
Perhaps he will yet.
BROTA:
No. Ceasing to exist because my parents were never born?
That is not a death worthy of Sto'Vo'Kor.
Kill me, Worf. I have no enemies to fight, no glory to be won.
Give me an honourable death.
PARELL:
Don't make us wait for the end like farm animals waiting for slaughter.
WORF:
I will come to you tomorrow and do what you ask.
PARELL:
We came to tell you. There will be no feast tonight.
WORF:
I understand. This is not a time for celebration.
BROTA:
Tomorrow we will see the sun rise again, but no one here will see it set.
WORF:
Join me. There is something I wish to say.
It is a great honour to know that my legacy has thrived on your world for so long.
I can see the Klingon heart beats strong here.
BROTA:
You honour us with your words.
We have tried to live as you taught us to.
PARELL:
We've never plowed fields or milked chattel.
We've lived as warriors, hunters.
BROTA:
Last year, I slew a yarbear three metres tall. Your mek'leth was my only weapon. The beast maimed me, and for a time it seemed I would die from my wounds. Now I wish I had. It would have been a warrior's death.
PARELL:
He could have taken his place among the honoured dead in Sto'Vo'Kor.
WORF:
Perhaps he will yet.
BROTA:
No. Ceasing to exist because my parents were never born?
That is not a death worthy of Sto'Vo'Kor.
Kill me, Worf. I have no enemies to fight, no glory to be won.
Give me an honourable death.
PARELL:
Don't make us wait for the end like farm animals waiting for slaughter.
WORF:
I will come to you tomorrow and do what you ask.
(Sunrise on the final day.)
WORF:
By sunset this will all be gone.
DAX:
Taking a last look around?
(Gabriel runs through the group. Sisko grabs him.)
SISKO:
Whoa. Gabriel, where are you going in such a hurry?
GABRIEL:
To the fields. It's time for planting.
(They walk on to where everyone is getting the young plants ready for the ground.)
MIRANDA:
Come on, Gabriel, there isn't much time.
Put some of this on your face.
The sun's strong today.
Come on, Gabriel, there isn't much time.
Put some of this on your face.
The sun's strong today.
YEDRIN:
Planting day has always been important here.
It brings everyone together.
Somehow it feels right to see it through.
[Field]
(Most of our people help with the planting. Pushing a motorised hand-plough, making planting holes. Compost goes in the bottom and the plant on top. Kira is scattering seed. Miranda is handing out the rooted plants.)
MIRANDA:
Here's one for you. Molly, take that from the bottom.
Here's one for you. Molly, take that from the bottom.
MOLLY:
Aren't you going to help?
O'BRIEN:
I'm busy.
MOLLY:
You don't look busy.
SISKO:
She's an O'Brien, all right. Better get to it, Chief.
(Sisko hands over his trowel. Worf and the Sons of Mogh arrived.)
BROTA:
You said there was an Enemy for us to fight.
WORF:
They are attempting to plant their fields before the sun sets.
Time is their Enemy.
We should help them defeat it.
BROTA:
Bring the others.
(And the sun sweeps on in its course. Molly brings O'Brien a plant.)
O'BRIEN:
Ah, great. You know, I have a little girl named Molly, too.
MOLLY:
Really? Can I meet her?
O'BRIEN:
We'll see.
MOLLY:
By summer, this plant will be taller than you. After the harvested, I'll help my mother make gelm bread with it.
WOMAN:
Molly?
(Molly runs off, O'Brien goes over to Sisko and Kira.)
SISKO:
Is something wrong?
O'BRIEN:
We can't do it.
SISKO:
What?
O'BRIEN:
We can't let these people die.
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