The Reptile Speaks

Truth

Prenar sat in the common area of his home, in his favorite chair, looking his daughter, Sophra's, boyfriend up and down. 

The fellow was nervous, to be sure, but of course there was a lot more to it than that, for Bron was not a Cardassian at all. He was a Gorn. 

Sophra and her mother, Natima, were busy in the kitchen. It was just the two men. "So," Prenar said, "what are your intentions regarding my daughter?" 

"Int-intentions, sir?" 

"Yes, intentions! Surely you have heard that expression before!" 

"Uh, yes, yes I have, sir. My, my intentions are that, well, Sophra is a, she's a wonderful person, and, and ...." Bron gulped several times. He didn't think Prenar would strike him, but the man was clearly livid, grey scales a little raised and eyes narrowed with mistrust. 

"And?" 

"Um, um, um, sir, uh, sir, the truth is, is ...." 

"What is the truth?" the Cardassian said, voice raised. 

The sounds of a meal being prepared were suddenly silenced. Even Sophra's little brother was listening, and he was technically supposed to be studying in his room. 

"Sir, um, uh, the truth is, sir, that, that," the Gorn suddenly straightened up. Now or never, he thought to himself. "The truth is that I'm in love with your daughter. And, and that's what it probably sounds like. Those are my intentions. I, I want to marry her, sir. With, with your blessing." He barely squeaked the last two words out. "I hope." 

Prenar stared. "You realize that you, that you cannot have marital relations without some serious surgery being done to Sophra. Or to you. Or, or both. I don't know the particulars." 

"I, I know, sir. I would have all of the surgery if I could." 

"And you would not be able to have children. I don't believe scientists have ever succeeded in getting Gorn and, and mammalian or at least warm-blooded DNA to commingle properly. The, the chromosomes, they don't line up." 

"We could adopt, sir." 

"Adopt? Our culture doesn't really do such a thing," Prenar said. 

"For us, it would be the only way we could, we could hope to ever have children. So I would hope that they would be accepted. I know we would love them as much," Bron said. "I am a civil  engineering student and have been promised a job after graduation. I want to build bridges, and, and bring people together." 

"And what does Sophra think of all of this?" 

"I, uh, I haven't told her yet, sir." Bron looked down. It was even more surreal, as if that were even possible. He felt a hand on his arm. 

"Bron, I didn't realize it was so serious," Sophra said. "But yeah, I feel the same way." 

"People will stare at you," Natima said. "They may call you a lot of unpleasant things. We like to think we are enlightened, but sometimes that can happen. There are harsh truths out there, you know." 

"Then let them stare," Sophra said. "And let them say their horrible things. But we will teach our children that there is more to love than a look. It's what's inside that counts, and I hope that people can see that it is, it is possible to live that ideal, every day." 

Prenar looked from one face to another, from green scales and reddish-orange eyes to grey scales and brown eyes. He sighed. "Natima, we may lose friends over this."

"Then perhaps we should lose them," she said. "Bron, where does your family live?" 

"They're still on the home world." 

"Do they know about this?" she asked. 

"They don't," he admitted. "It just kind of, it slipped out." 

"They should be told, you know," said Natima. "Would they consent to meeting us? After meeting Sophra, of course." 

"Sure," Bron said. 

"Well?" Natima asked Prenar. 

"I guess we'll plan a wedding, then," he said. "And if people stare, I will thank them for, for noticing my beautiful daughter. And, and my, my fine son-in-law." 

"Thank you, sir," said Bron.