the Commingling


the Commingling

This was originally written years ago and placed upon my page.
I have now decided to separate it from my own page and thus I have brought my original work to this page to display it.

A 24 gun barkentine is shipwrecked in a storm. The survivors swim from the rocks along the shore having lost their ship, their muskets, and their hand weapons. For many, they lost their lives.

They don't know what land that they have shipwrecked upon. They don't know where they are. After the flash of blinding light, the sky looked wrong. That night, after the storm had cleared, there was a much larger moon in the sky and the star patterns were all wrong. They don't know where they are in the worst way.

They encounter locals of a strange smooth headed race. These people wear dresses regardless of their gender and their men fight valiantly before dying. The locals are apparently an honorable race. The crew cuts their way inland tearing a path with their daqtags and the occasional sword or musket that they "acquired" from burning homesteads.

They are halted when they enter the territories of Fearchear's clan. Being a small clan familiar with being outnumbered, they have long learned to fight more viciously. The clansmen fight the outsiders to a halt in a battle that costs both sides half of their effectives.

Both sides eventually become very tired and bloodied. They are also getting hungry. In spite of the language and appearance differences, they manage to declare a truce to tend to the wounded and the dead. As they Howl over their own dead, the Howls frighten the local clansmen at first. But, the clansmen quickly become used to the ritual and howl with the strangers. Since the clansman bury their dead in a ritual of their own, the crew observed at first and then assisted with the digging. Both sides Howled as each clansman was lowered into the ground.

At this point, tired, bloody, and hungry, the crew accept the offer of food and drink from the clansmen who Howled for their dead. Because of the Honor given the dead of each side, this parley stretches through the night as they try to communicate with drawings and objects. It becomes readily apparent that the crew doesn't know the sky or land here. Nor have they seen races with such smooth foreheads. Their leaders, while working very patiently through the night, managed to get across the words and concepts of "klingon" and "human".

Being a stranger in a strange land, the klingon Captain decides to cease fighting in order to preserve the remains of his command. As mead and wine are spread around, the two leaders attempt to "discuss" a longer lasting peace. It eventually become apparent that both sides are ready to cease fighting. The fighting had been fierce and Honorable. Both sides had taken terrible casualties. Both sides knew that they had been a small force to begin with and that they must mutually and exclusively attempt to preserve what was left.

Upon the morrow, as the clansmen pack up to return to their home lands, the klingon Captain instructs his men to follow the humans. This at first is mistaken for a preparation for another battle. The klingon Captain orders his men to put their weapons on the ground and to hold their hands out to their sides. After an unarmed standoff, he orders his men to kneel in total violation klingon custom. He motions to the alien leader until he manages to get across to the clan leader that they only mean to follow them.

They follow the clansmen through many fields and woods back to the clan home territory. There, the clansmen tell of the terrible battle and the crew attempts to show respect for the fallen and the living Warriors of the Sons of Fearchear. The crew camps near the settlements of Fearchear and hunts with Fearchear's son's men. They learn the terrain and animals. They also learn an intense hatred for the common foe of the sachsenach from the south.

Over time, the surviving crew acquit themselves well in the service of the clan Farquharson fighting the sachsenach and protecting the Farquharson villages from those southern invaders.

As the clansmen lost many men over time, with the discovery of the crew, and fighting the redcoats, there were too many widows without their man. There were many girls about to reach womanhood. The crew had arrived as a mixed group of men and women. The womenfolk of the clan took the unattached crewmen as husbands to replace those lost. Some of the stronger (though younger) clansmen even survived taking a wife from the crew. The ties grew stronger over time as the children of the clan and crew began to grow and marry. Ultimately, the strength of the highland clan Farquharson was to be reinforced by the blood of the Son's of Kahless.

It was the mere lack of size of the clan that cost them 300 Warriors fighting the sachsenach at Colloden. When those three thousand showed up to fight, they were certainly worth more than their numbers and the battle showed them well.

I descended from them. I descended from Finlay Fearchear who founded our clan in 1516. I also descended from the Son's of Kahless who were shipwrecked upon a strange planet. I proudly wear my klingon armor over my Farquharson tartan kilt.

I also challenge any who would take with levity, my family tartan, my kilt, or my klingon heritage. Jest if you dare, then die before me in the Ring.

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