Forgiveness (Part 2 of 2)

Posted on 31 Mar 2025 @ 4:39pm by Commander Morgan Tarin & Lieutenant JG Hovar Kov
Edited on on 31 Mar 2025 @ 4:41pm

3,163 words; about a 16 minute read

Mission: Episode 21 - Helix
Location: USS Galileo-A - Deck 1, Chaplain's Quarters
Timeline: MD 03, 1829 hrs

Previously, on Forgiveness (Part 1)...

"I worship the same God who slaughtered entire civilizations for one reason or another, who slew the firstborn of Egypt, guilty and innocent alike, due to the actions of a king with a hardened heart, who beheaded a giant at the hands of a shepherd to save a kingdom, who sent his only-begotten son to be the ultimate sacrifice, to experience pain beyond comprehension, to be scourged and crucified for our sins, for me, and for you."

Wanting to make his point clear, he spoke with a voice that he hoped got the message across.

"Call him whatever you like, be it merciful or tyrant, my God is not a bitch, like you."

And with those words, he let her go, stepping back a few steps waiting to see what she would do next, to see what she dared to do next.

And Now, the Conclusion...

[ON]

The second Tarin's feet touched the ground and she was free of his grip, her right hand coiled, raised, then punched the chaplain square across his chin. "...Don't mistake my leniency here for weakness, lieutenant," she coughed then swallowed a swollen lump. "Call me that again and I'll put you in the brig. Strike me again? I gave you one and there won't be another. I'll put you out of an airlock," berated her dry and authoritative inflection. Then she turned and walked several paces away from him, tugging at her uniform's jacket to smooth out the creases and recompose her frayed hair before taking a deep breath and turning back to face him.

"I don't care who you fight for as long as it's this ship and its crew. I won't talk scripture with you but I respect your devotion to it; and I respect your position here. But I need to know you also respect me. This is a Federation starship, lieutenant, not a Klingon battlecruiser or a chapel - you're not required to agree with me or understand my orders and you're entitled to voice your concerns. But my word is this ship's directive. I'm the commanding officer here and the law comes from my mouth whether you like it or not. Am I clear?"

Hovar the Klingon gradually gave way to Father Hovar, who couldn't help but to listen to his commanding officer. There was a mutual understanding between the two, mainly of the fact that what they experience was a once in a career event, unless there were extenuating circumstances of course.

"Captain, you have a hard duty, one that perhaps a few on board this ship would envy, one that I respect. That being said, you need to respect me and come up to me first before you decide to act on my behalf. I also have my duty that neither you or anyone in Star Fleet can come in between me and the performance of my sacred office as Chaplain. Part of that performance is me letting you know that sometimes, you are wrong. I am not afraid, as you have seen, to challenge your law if they are in violation of Star Fleet regulations or the moral laws of which we are all bound to."

Hovar pointed to the PADD that once had his transfer orders,

"If you do not want someone like that aboard your ship, it will take me a while, I can request for a transfer. Otherwise, we are going to need to sort this out because this..."

Hovar motioned between the two of them.

"...is not going to help the crew or the ship if we're at each other's throats, or out the airlock."

Once again the PADD of Sins presented itself and once more Tarin rejected it. She stepped forward toward the large Klingon then slapped the administrative device from his hand and watched it silently tumble across the carpet before becoming still. "I called you a coward and I was wrong. But that," she pointed to the slim silver apparatus, "is the coward's way out. That's not my way or yours. You're here on this ship whether we both like it or not...so as you said, let's stow the airlock."

A short silence ensued while Tarin turned to slowly pace around the interior of Kov's living room. "What was the greatest failing of the Bajoran Prophets during the war?" she suddenly asked. Tested.

"The Bajoran Prophets?"

For the Klingon, the question could not have come from anywhere in the entire universe. This question had to go back into his Academy days of his training, but there was something that was tricky about the question. What did they get wrong? Of course, context was needed. As he thought about it, there was the question of the involvement of the Dominion War, which the Wormhole acted more like a corridor than anything else. As he thought about it, there were plenty of mistakes that were made.

If he had to pick one...

"If you want to hide a leaf, you hide it in a forest of leaves. If you want to hide a fake diamond, you hide it in a container of real diamonds."

Hovar then took a breath,

"If you want to hide a dead body, where would you hide it?"

"In a conduit. One you're capable of controlling," answered Tarin with a very agnostic tone to her speech. She didn't quite understand his riddle nor the purpose behind his question to her question. "But that doesn't answer what I asked."

Hovar figured that would be the answer, so he decided to teach her about a different perspective about things.

“No, Captain, think like a Prophet. If you want to hide a body, you would hide it in a field of bodies. If you want to defeat your enemy, you would hide them in a field of enemies.”

Shrugging to himself, Hovar had to admit.

“If defeating their enemies was their objective, then no, they did not make a mistake. Their enemies were destroyed at the cost of billions of souls being sent to eternity. Anything else would be down to subjective interpretation.”

"You're presumptive, Kov. To what end, I don't know." His interpretation of the wormhole aliens' prerogative was certainly unique but again didn't answer her question...at least to her satisfaction. "The greatest failure of the Prophets was their understanding of time - their inability to grasp the nature of linearity. They're non-corporeal beings who possess awareness of the past, present and future all at once but lack the knowledge of how those of us who experience linear time operate. They're entities with great power but blinded by their perspective. In some ways, you remind me of them."

“Is that their greatest mistake though, or what you demand to be their greatest mistake?”

Hovar pondered at her words, and he could not help but understand his limits of Bajoran theology. Did he know enough to console someone who practiced their faith, of course he did. Did he know enough to be able to be their priest? Absolutely not. With chaplains, there are always two great traps. Do they become what their flock needs them to be, or do they use their own faith to help guide them in theirs? It’s a tale as old as interfaith chaplaincy, and one that Hovar continuously walks.

“Captain, for you to be correct; someone, or something, has to be wrong. The more you demand to be right, the more you will demand others to be wrong, which will affect how you interpret your past and how you perceive the future as you encounter the present moment. That need to be correct will dictate how you interact with your existence, blinding you in your own ego. Everyone in that respect has that weakness, and share that mistake.”

Hovar’s eyes narrowed and his head tilted slightly in curiosity.

“You say that I remind you of them; I am a sinner, nothing more, nothing less. I ask you though, would you be able to hold yourself to the same standard you place upon the Prophets and say truthfully what your greatest mistake in the war was, or would you fall short of that standard, even to the nth degree?”

The chaplain's moral questioning grated every nerve in her body and it came to a climax when he queried her own life; her own experiences which had formed her unique perspective of the quadrants and were now a part of her identity. It took all of her internal fortitude to avoid snarling at the Klingon. "My greatest mistake during the war was that I wasn't old enough to be deployed and kill Vorta and Jem'Hadar." Her chest inflated and she approached Kov in a rare and full display of her physical female prowess. "I was denied that opportunity...to avenge my classmates at the Academy who were killed after the Breen attacked San Fransisco. If that makes me a sinner, like you? Then we're in pleasant company."

Hovar looked down at the Captain and he could not help but feel concern over her display. If she wanted round 2, she was not going to get it.

“Your desire for vengeance for your friends does not make you a sinner in and of itself. The fact that we can feel and act on such drives and emotions like wrath, envy, pride, and the other deadly sins that makes us sinners. Even Vulcans are just as vulnerable.”

Hovar expressed a seriousness on his face, but it was much more gentle than expected.

“I also feel what you feel about taking vengeance on those who killed my kin during the war, to avenge my cousins who helped protect the Alpha Quadrant, to ensure that those deaths were not in vain. I would feel the same vengeance against those who would look to harm this crew, both against us and amongst us. I would be a hypocrite if I said otherwise. All of that being said, it is not healthy; physically, mentally, or spiritually, for anyone to be so consumed by their sin that one’s wrath is turned on others the moment they are challenged in some way and punish others with the weight of their uniform behind them, like you are now.”

Hovar then shrugged.

“But like you said, I am an abomination. What do I know?”

Tarin stared into his brown Klingon eyes unflinchingly. Then she blinked. "What do you know, Kov? About the Pleiades Cluster, about Regula I and Starfleet Command's directive out here in this frontier? What do you know about commanding a starship? What do you know about my job that I'm too blinded to see?" She firmly shook her head, loose strands of her hair now adamantly bobbing across her freckled cheeks. "Your ignorance and judgement is insulting." Another finger had involuntarily raised toward the taller chaplain's chin. "If Galileo was a Klingon ship, I'd have already given you a bat'leth for challenge and we wouldn't be having this conversation. But here we are."

How easy that would be to resolve this conflict, she momentarily fantasized.

"I don't command from a concept of rank or uniform. My prerogative is to execute this ship's orders and return from every deployment with each crew member alive and able to contact their loved ones. I don't 'punish' if it's not necessary; but when corrective action's needed, then so be it."

Hovar did not feel the rage of a Klingon anymore. The point was proven that physically, the Captain stood no match. Arguably, few on board could. All he felt was pity, and that expression showed on his face,

“Of course you command by your uniform and rank, speaking of ignorance and judgment. If this were a Klingon ship, the Captain would expect his subordinates to do their duty regardless of their personal feelings for each other. By that respect, you are worse than a Klingon Captain. You are not that good, and no Klingon would want you aboard their ship, least of all under your command.”

While he did not say it, even though Hovar had to think of it for a split second, it seemed that Tarin had such a thing for Klingons that he was curious of his brother was still single. No, that could not happen. Hovar thought more highly of his brother, and his brother had better standards.

“I do suggest you take great care what you deem to be your prerogative. Your prerogative is not absolute, nor is it infallible. A king used his prerogative to kill his best friend and most loyal general to cover up an affair and to wed the widow, and he was still judged accordingly even though the king felt he did no wrong.”

The story of King David played in his mind and contemplated how much it was repeated throughout history throughout different cultures.

“You might get the crew home, but they can also spit and curse your name behind your back to their peers when you claim victory to the admiralty. Captains who rule by the whip do not inspire loyalty or courage even in this unknown and god-forsaken territory. It is those who inspire their crews to loyalty and courage who deserve to have the right to be called a Star Fleet Captain, not because of circumstances of their commission. Even a child is aware of that fact.”

It is then that Hovar raised his hand in a “stop and think” gesture, even though his voice remained gentle.

“And before you proceed to lash out at me again, understand that no matter what you say, you will not make me bend the knee or cower by your words. No matter what you say, or command, you will only prove me right.”

Tarin did indeed 'stop and think', with several blinks of her eyes while she finally realized this man in front of her still didn't fully understand the dynamic at play - for a reason about which she didn't want to expend further mental energy speculating. She glanced up to the bulkheads in the ceiling then rubbed her forehead with the understanding that the chaplain simply might not be cut out for this ship or these sorts of assignments.

"No, Kov. You still don't get it, so let me explain this in simple terms: I don't care what you think about me. I don't care if you think I'm right, wrong, judgemental, childish or ignorant or whatever other combinations of veiled insults you've managed to rattle off over the past fifteen minutes. You're one crew member out of a complement of 60. Don't want to 'bend the knee' and conform to the ship? Then break your back instead and drown swimming against the tide. Your approval of my command style would be nice...but it's not necessary."

The red-collared commander's patience had been brought to its brink during this conversation and she'd afforded the chaplain more interpersonal leeway than anyone else in her career thus far. This conversation would come to an end for his sake. "Here's what's going to happen: I'm taking you off restriction and reinstating your off-duty privileges. You'll show up to every duty watch and collateral duty on time, clean and well-groomed, and give your best every single second of every minute while you wear your Starfleet uniform. You'll respect this ship, it's name, and its crew; you'll do the job you were assigned to do when you came on board without complaint or further recalcitrance. Anything less? I'll dump you back at Regula I for the Chaplain Corps to deal with when Galileo eventually returns. Understood?"

Hovar nodded, lamenting that the Captain missed his point. Steps had already been taken, people had already been notified, just like he said it would in the Holodeck. Whatever comes from that, Hovar will leave it up to God. However, there have been decisions that have been made, Hovar knew was a folly. If she did not care about what he thinks of her, then she cannot call foul when he does not care about what she thinks. That was a dangerous philosophy of life. To consider and then dismiss is one thing. To dismiss without consideration is spiritually flawed.

Breaking his own back instead of conforming to the ship? That was an interesting statement, yet she did not get it. Hovar didn't bend the knee to her, he only bent the knee to God. If there was anything about breaking his own back, it would be to break his own back so another wouldn’t be broken. The silent sentinel, the peaceful warrior, to love the 60 people aboard the ship and to die for them if need be.

Concerning what’s going to happen following, her ignorance of what he had been doing was sorely evident, and almost a disappointment. As much as Hovar wanted to tell her otherwise, she was not going to hear it, and that would be her curse. Even with her indiscretions, he would stand vigil over her, just like he would with everyone else of the crew.

If she still chose this way of life, then all he could do was to pray to God to have mercy upon her soul. There was also the part of him that said if she ever tested him like that again, he would set up the appointment for her judgment. In fact, he reminded himself that the measure she placed on him was the same measure he shall place on her.

“As shall the same measure, and judgment, be upon you, Captain.”

With that, Hovar motioned for the door. He had no more words.

She was quite happy to oblige his unstated request punctuated by his gesticulation. "Yes, we're done here," she agreed, her sharp hazel eyes holding his for a lengthy moment during her own private judgement. A turn of her heels then accompanied lengthy strides until the door swished open and she stopped mid-way through it. "I gave you an inch tonight, lieutenant. Don't think you can take a mile." The next time he decided to act on his designs and lose his composure? Physically strike her? He'd be lucky to make it back to Earth for his court-martial.

Tarin's words echoed through his room before she continued her steps out in to the small deck 1 corridor. The door hissed shut behind her tall form then she absentmindedly rubbed several budding bruises across her throat resulting from his fingertips. Had she made the correct decision, to allow this folly into insubordination? SFCJ Article 90. Maybe there was still hope for him. The chaplain's time to prove his compatibility aboard the ship was ticking down. And her limited reservoir of patience was now depleted.

[OFF]

--

CMDR Morgan Tarin
Commanding Officer
USS Galileo-A

LTJG Hovar Kov
Chaplain
USS Galileo-A

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