It was no small thing, not even for a full fleet admiral, to be invited to witness the dance of the Motlavi princesses as they came of age.
Therefore my family and I, especially my three daughters Marcia, Valerie, and Laura Telluria, deeply treasured the invitation.
“So, how did you get this, Mom?” my teenager Marcia said to me.
“Several years before I met your father, I was the captain of the Argent, and in those days, the Motlavi were still considering whether they wanted to join the consortium my fleet serves. I was in the right place at the right time to tip the scale; a royal hospital ship carrying a pregnant queen was hit by a random asteroid, and I got the distress call and got all of them aboard the Argent and away from there before their ship's warp core blew. Their ships were very delicate in that respect, and so my engineer passed on some knowledge to their engineer that helped the Motlavi make safer engines. They were so impressed that we didn't charge them, on top of the rescue, that they joined the consortium.
“Meanwhile, Marcia, like you, the queen's children are coming of age, and so we have been invited to see their traditional ceremonies. I'm like an aunt to them, sort of.”
“Well, Dad, how are you feeling about all this?” my son Marcus Valerian asked his father, Captain M.A. Kirk.
“I feel good,” he said. “I get us in places as a commercial captain and business owner that your mom can't, and she gets us in places as an admiral in the professional fleet that I can't. I see it as us getting to go everywhere!”
When you are an exceptionally powerful woman, it requires you marrying an exceptional man, secure in his own worth. Captain M.A. Kirk was always that, even at 24 years old when I met him, and he at 49 was giving that kind of confidence to his sons. Mark V., as we called our middle child, did fuss a little bit at how he saw his sisters taking after me and basically doing anything and everything in the world as they had access to it, but he clung to his father and his father showed him how to do anything and everything in a man's way. Baby Laurence just followed Mark V. in that.
So, off we went and arrived early to the ceremony – and moved our seats a little higher as the queen recognized me after all those years and was overjoyed to meet my husband and all of our children, and had us seated in the royal box with the king and herself. The king was truly a swell royal fellow – Mark. V and Laurence were allowed to take turns sitting in his lap with his younger grandchildren, and this made Mark V. especially happy.
At last all was quiet, and the dance began … each young lady in a green body suit, picking up and fitting to herself the dress of her young womanhood in shimmering copper-colored portions that represented strength, honesty, integrity, responsibility, grace, patience, forgiveness, self-control, and other necessary virtue. This took an hour, an hour of stunning beauty and athletic display, before the final dance.
Marcia took the above picture of a fully dressed dancing princess, now accepted as an adult member of the royal family.
“Is that kind of where I'm going in our family?” she asked me and her father.
“As the eldest Kirk princess,” her father said, “you are well on your way, Marcia.”
“You see how that took quite a while, though, so, no need to be in a hurry,” I said.
“I get it, Mom. I do. I'm just 14, but it's nice to see where I'm going.”
The Motlavi queen overheard this, and made a gift for all of my children – since our family was considered friends to their kingdom, each of the children received a set of portions that I could make into a dress or suit for them to wear as they came of age.
Mark V. was impressed.
“Someday I'll be strutting around like a Motlavi king,” he said. “I thought the dancing was a little boring, but hey: that suit is something to look forward to!”