Vahklas

By Reactionary Caveman (aka Blacknblue aka Bluenblack)

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I wrote this for fun. Anyone is free to download and/or redistribute this story as long as you keep it complete and intact, and as long as you don't make any money from it.

Note: Vulcan terms used in this story were taken from the online Vulcan Language Dictionary, the Vulcan Language Institute, or I made them up myself.

Description: This is another afterthought to my series "The Road Once Traveled". I thought it was done. I really did. But a few snips and bits were still hanging loose, so I scribbled off some scenes to tie them up. Here they are. This is a direct sequel to Kov + Hess. It picks up immediately after the other one stops.

Caveat – The following notes are for hard-core fanfic Trekkers only. If you are a casual reader you can safely skip them.

Author's Note: I have read many heated debates among the fanfiction community on the subject of whether female Vulcans go through Pon Farr. (Yes, we actually argue about things like this.) I want to clarify my opinion on the matter.

I have always tried to follow known scientific laws in my stories. At least to the limits of my ability and as far as the silliness of Trek canon will permit. I hold a Bachelors in Environmental Science/Ecology, with supplemental training in biochemistry and social science. I also have over two decades of experience Based on my background, I find the concept of a mating cycle that only affects males to be absolutely unbelievable - to the point where I refuse to even consider having it in my stories.

Trying to keep your story within the boundaries of known scientific possibility is what defines the difference between science fiction and pure fantasy. Nothing wrong with fantasy per se, but I write science fiction.

The Pon Farr is obviously a biological function, hard coded into the Vulcan flesh and blood. In other words,it is a physical need, not a mental one. Which means it predates sapience On Earth, female animals who are not in heat/estrus/rut react negatively to males who attempt to mate with them. Watch your dog sometimes, and see how she reacts when the neighbor's male comes over and tries to get romantic when she is not in heat. Most likely he will be lucky to get away with his hide. Other female animals react in a similar manner. Why? Because in pure animal terms, there is no individual advantage for a female in mating. The only advantage lies in continuing the bloodline, and animals don't care about things like that In order to persuade a female to mate, it is necessary to bribe/blackmail her by inducing estrus. A male doesn't need estrus. Heis already in a constant state of readiness due to the unrelenting pressure of seminal fluid. There is no need to persuade a male to mate. He is going to want to mate anyway. Anywhere, anytime he gets the chance

Given that the Vulcan and Terran ecosystems are supposed to be similar enough for organisms from each of them to be genetically compatible, it follows "logically" that they must operate according to the same governing principles. Otherwise the two planets would be so different that people from each of them would have trouble communicating, much less mating. If Vulcan's ecosystem operates in away remotely similar to Earth's, then a mating cycle that only affects males would be an express ticket to extinction.

First of all, why does evolution put animals through an episodic mating cycle at all? The answer: to take advantage of optimal environmental conditions and/or to avoid dangerous conditions. Seven years is a long. It plainly has nothing to do with yearly planetary seasons, so it probably has something to do with either solar or moon cycles. Eridani is a big,bright star, both in canon and in fact. My speculation is that Vulcan mating cycles were originally tied to Eridani's sunspot cycle.

I reason that animals on Vulcan developed the habit of breeding every seven years to take advantage of the low point in the solar radiation,thus minimizing damage to the fetus and potential mutations. Once Vulcans became sapient, the started doing things like building shelters and keeping pregnant people inside during the bad times. As a result,it was no longer critical for Vulcans to maintain their breeding cycle in strict clockwork rhythm with the sunspot cycle. In evolution, if it isn’t used it goes away, so their seven year cycles started to drift off into individual variations.

I defy anyone to prove me wrong. J

Second Author's Note:This one is going to make some readers unhappy, but I can't help it. Like I said, I go with canon whenever it lets me. I don't violate canon without a compelling narrative reason. When I do violate canon, I always come up with a reason that fits inside the rules of the Trek 'verse. Like time travel in my first story, etc. Based on canon that goes all the way back to TOS, and if my reasoning posted under the prior note is correct, then it is a virtual certainty that T'Pol went through multiple Pon Farr's before she joined Enterprise.

I am sorry if I offend all the readers who prefer to believe that Trip was the first one for T'Pol. I have to follow the numbers. The numbers tell me no, he wasn't. Unless new data comes in.

Chapter One

High Council Minister Kuvak sat down with a feeling of bone deep weariness,yet it was tempered with joyous relief. The issue which had weighted his mind for so many years was finally settled and dealt with. If the solution was not perfect, it was at least satisfactory. After carefully considering the options and potential outcomes, Kuvak decided that he had no logical cause for complaint.

The beaded curtain rustled softly as a young attendant entered with downcast eyes. "High Minister. Your son's betrothed has been provided with an injection of tri-ox compound as you ordered, as well as a mild stimulant. Additional hypos were left in the room for later use if needed along with high energy food bars and Terran fruit juice."

"Excellent," Kuvak refrained from smiling in this holy place, but it was hard on him. The attendant must have heard the pleased tone in his voice however, for young man’s expression relaxed and he even raised his head slightly. "Has my aircar been summoned?"

"Affirmative, Minister," the attendant told him "It awaits you at the upper end of the canyon, in the traditional location. A sedan chair is ready to carry you at your convenience."

Kuvak waved away the suggestion of a chair. "I have not yet grown too feeble to walk a mere half kilometer," he said briskly. "Nor am I some ancient emperor, returning from a victorious campaign, that I should be carried on the shoulders of four stout young men." He stood up. "This retreat,and those who have dedicated themselves to service within it, have been of significant assistance to my clan many times over the centuries. Now, once again, it has provided aid at a time of dire necessity. Inform your superiors that this will not be forgotten." The attendant bowed as Kuvak walked out of the room and headed for the front exit,stepping lighter than he had in years.

It will be some time before they are able to leave here, Kuvak considered, Once Kov has passed through his Pon Farr, Anna will no doubt require time to recover. She might even require medical attention, he suddenly realized, with a twinge of concern. But of course, the retreat maintained a Healer on staff and kept a well equipped medical bay for just such situations. Kuvak ran through a checklist of details that would need to be taken care of while his son and his soon-to-be daughter-in-law were otherwise occupied. His first move should be to contact Trip.

-&-

Eric Hess walked over to answer the door buzzer with his teeth gritted. "Who is it?" he snapped. There was a pause.

"Um...the name's Trip Tucker. Maybe Anna's mentioned me? I wanted to let you know what's been going on." Eric let his breath out in a whoosh and slapped the door open.

"Mr. Tucker! I mean - Captain Tucker,"Eric fumbled. "Please, come in." He stepped back and almost frantically waved Trip into the hotel room. "I'm sorry about the way I answered the door. My nerves have been stretched a little thin, wondering what happened with Anna, and..."

Trip held up a hand. "Don't worry about it. I figured you'd be chewin' nails. That's why I came over. Anna’s fine, and she got everything straightened out with Kov. It was just a miscommunication. Turns out that Kov and his dad - you know his dad is a Minister on the High Council?" Eric nodded, "Well Kov is some kind of assistant to his dad. Anyway, they both had to go out of town suddenly But they didn't leave instructions with the staff to let Anna know about what happened."

"Oh!" Eric suddenly felt the light bulb go off. "Some kind of confidential government thing. And the bureaucrats didn't want to tell her anything."

"You got it," Trip grinned.

"Now it all starts to make sense," Eric nodded. "She told me that Kov was on his dad's staff. Anna said the old man was grooming him to move into some kind of power position. Stands to reason that if there was something important stirring, he would want Kov to be there."

"Yep,"Trip confirmed. "It was the kind of thing that he really wanted Kov to be there for. Anyway, my wife, T'Pol, she has a little pull with the High Council. Enough for us to find out where they went. We told Anna and she took off. Just got word a little while ago that Anna and Kov are together now. But they're still in the middle of something that they can't really just drop, ya know?"

"Oh, I understand," Eric made a chopping gesture with his hand. "It's ok. Hey, I figured that when my big sister started rubbing elbows with the Powers That Be, she wouldn’t be free to just set her own schedule. Heck, nobody is free to just set their own schedule anyway."

Trip chuckled. "Isn't that the truth? Since you're at loose ends, I wondered if you'd be interested in some home cooking tonight? Then maybe take a tour of the city tomorrow, starting with our plant. Everything is shut down for the Christmas break so you could get a look at some of the guts of the place that visitors don't usually see."

"Sounds great," Eric grinned. "When and where should I show up for dinner?"

"How about 1730?" Trip suggested. "Here's our address," he added, handing over a card. "We usually eat around 1800, and that will give us sometime to talk. T'Pol won't let me cook since the last time I started a grease fire. And it wasn't anything serious at all, really. But she blew it all out of proportion and kicked me out of the kitchen for good" Trip looked irritated. "But somebody has to keep the hooligan from gnawing through her leg irons while T'Pol is busy anyway. You can tell me some good blackmail material on Anna, and I can get you up to speed about her latest escapades."

"Perfect," Eric agreed.

-&-

Kov drifted slowly upward from the darkness. Sounds of tangled chaos slowly sorted themselves into separate tones. The sliding fabric of bedsheets, the hissing sighs of two people breathing, one faster than the other. The drip of water from a tap that had carelessly not been closed properly. Kov frowned, who could be so irresponsible with water?

Water. His throat hurt. His mouth tasted foul and his throat burned with thirst. There was water nearby, he could hear it. And now he could smell it. Smell was coming back to him. The smell of water, and damp stone, and something else... His nostrils flared, drinking in the scent hungrily. SHE was here. His eyes flew open.

Anna was asleep. Her tangled hair spread across her pillow, darkened at the roots by sweat. The sweet scent of her perspiration that had driven him into wakefulness hung heavy over the bed. Even now, after the fever had passed, it reached deeply into him and sent his heartbeat racing.

My mate.

Kov stared in wondering disbelief. There was no sign of a sheet anywhere,they must have torn everything off the bed. Even the pillow that Anna clutched was uncovered. Kov himself lay sprawled at an angle and, to his delight, he slowly came to realize that Anna's legs were intertwined with his own. He closed his eyes took several deep breaths to calm himself, lest he lose control again.

"You don't have to do that you know." Kov's eyes popped open to catch Anna watching him with sleepy mischief in on her face. "It's a bit late to worry about self-discipline now."

Kov stared at her and reached out gingerly,running his fingertips across her cheek. "You are here," he whispered in amazement. She smiled.

"I've been right here all along, you fool." Anna rolled over and kissed him deeply. Her bare flesh pressed against him and combined with the kiss to crumble every vestige of control he had. Perhaps the fever had not completely run its course after all...

Tizok reported into the comm, "The intermix ratios have been stabilized for the present, Captain Tolaris. Our deuterium levels are barely adequate to bring us home if no further unexpected demands are made, and if we do not exceed 0.63% space normal while we are in-system."

"Acknowledged, engineering."

The comm went silent and Tizok glanced around sadly. None of them were under any illusions as to what the ultimate fate of the Vahklas would be. A ship this old, and in such poor condition, would be unlikely in the extreme to qualify for refurbishment. In approximately17.643 hours, Vahklas would dock for the last time and the journey of the V'Tosh Katur would finally be over.

Young Saldre walked over diffidently. Despite his best efforts, Tizok could easily see the fear in his eyes. Salter had always been a disappointment to his House, and when he joined the V'Tosh Katur he,like so many of them, had been cast out. This homecoming was a bitter one to him.

"Elder," he asked respectfully, "I ask counsel. I have considered my options, and it occurs to me that perhaps the Humans who are working on their engine upgrade project might be willing to consider my application. Will you evaluate my logic in this?"

"It seems at least a feasible option to explore," Tizok told him. "During our encounter with the Human ship, they seemed a tolerant people. Kov's latest communications have offered no evidence to contradict this."

"Then,do you think that Kov would find it objectionable if I were to request his assistance in seeking such a position? Since he has regained favor with his father's House, I would not wish to cause him any difficulty."Saldre looked down.

Tizok recalled something. "Please wait here."He raised his voice, "All of you, come here briefly." The rest of the engineering staff paused in their duties, which were few enough while the ship was at sub-light, and congregated on the senior engineer. "I had intended to announce this in any case, and Saldre's question makes this an appropriate moment. During my last message from Kov, he inserted a statement to the effect that every member of the Vahklas crew is welcome to contact him at any time for any reason. He also specified that he is here to serve, and that if any of us has a need,we should not hesitate to ask."

A group sigh of relief stirred the peeling finish in the old ship's guts. "This is most agreeable news," T'Hosh, the lone woman on the staff, admitted. "I confess to some concern regarding my ability to locate a position."

"I believe that we have all shared that concern," Tizok told her, "whether we acknowledged it verbally or not. However, Kov's position as an assistant to a Minister on the High Council should allow him to find something for all of us. The positions might not be ideal, granted."

"At this point," Pojik stated with a bite in his voice, "any position at all would be ideal."

Saldre said meekly, "I intend to inquire about assisting the Humans on their engine upgrade project. I suspect that they would be less judgmental than most of our own people."

"Was that also your thought, Tizok?" Pojik asked, "When you agreed to take the position aboard the Enterprise?"

"In part," Tizok admitted. "But also because it was a remarkable opportunity to study a people who managed to successfully integrate thought and emotion, and built a star-faring civilization while doing it There is also the fact that the Human captain was approaching desperation, and Kov felt personally responsible."

"Why?" Saldre wanted to know.

"Because the Human engineer is leaving to become Kov's wife," Tizok told them. "Thereby leaving Enterprise without a qualified chief engineer. Kov feels a deep sense of obligation in this matter."

"Kov is marrying a Human?" T'Hosh looked openly astonished. "This is delightful. He is upholding the truest principles of the IDIC philosophy."

"He seems to be quite pleased with her," Tizok told them. "And she with him according to his report."

"I can only imagine the scandal," Pojik said with relish. "I am relieved. I feared that circumstances had broken him, had forced Kov to surrender to social expectations. But I see now that he is still the stubborn rebel we all know and love."

-&-

Eric took a deep breath and pressed the button. After making a point of assuring Captain Tucker that he could certainly manage to navigate his way to their home, he had managed to get lost eleven times on the way over. Now, eighteen minutes late and sweating like a horse, he had finally managed to reach the right address. The Tucker house was a small cottage-type home set in the outskirts of Shi'kahr. It's yard lacked the traditional barrier wall of the older homes near the center of the metropolis. This newer neighborhood, primarily inhabited by immigrants and young professionals just getting started, reminded Eric Hess of a Human subdivisions. Rows and blocks of cookie-cutter houses all neatly lined up in nearly identical rank and file, with only token fences an occasional decorative plant to distinguish one from another.

The door opening caught him by surprise. He had unconsciously been anticipating the sound of footsteps, despite the fact that the thin Vulcan atmosphere rendered him half deaf to normal activities. Trip smiled and waved him inside, and Eric stepped into blessed shade. "Whoosh! That feels good," he sighed.

"No kidding," Trip commiserated. "At this time of day I try not to even go outside. Come into the kitchen and get some icewater."

"You're a good man, Captain Tucker," Eric told him gratefully. He followed his host down a stone floored hallway with an arched ceiling, past a spacious sunken living area and into the kitchen located at the rear of the house. A slim-framed but blatantly pregnant young woman stood at a stove operating various cook pots and associated spoons. Meanwhile a diminutive tousled creature, apparently also of the female persuasion (the pigtails were a dead giveaway),peered suspiciously at him from beneath the edge of the table.

Eric worked his fingers into the V shape of the Vulcan greeting, but only the first two obeyed. His third and fourth fingers insisted on splaying out independently. Finally he grabbed them with his left hand in frustration and crossed them over each other, hoping friction would hold them in position long enough. "Peace and long life, Mrs. Tucker,"he said with as much dignity as a sweat soaked, exhausted man could muster. "I apologize for being late. I am afraid I overestimated my ability to navigate in a strange city."

T'Pol Tucker returned his salute with practiced ease, giving the relieved Eric a chance to drop his hand. "You apology is accepted, Eric Hess, but quite unnecessary. Be welcome to our home. Please take water and rest yourself."

Trip finished pouring a good sized mug full of icewater and handed it over,and Eric joyously started pouring it down his throat. "Oh man, that tastes good," he gasped when he finally came up for air.

"Drink all you want," Trip told him, offering a refill, "but I will tell you from experience that you better take it a little slower. Too much too fast is not a good idea."

"You're probably right," Eric admitted."It's just that I've spent the last few years in Canada. It doesn't get this hot in Newfoundland."

"No," Trip said contemplatively, "as I recall it doesn't. Not anywhere near. Let's go sit down and give our puny Human feet a rest from this gravity." As Eric followed him back down the hallway, he noticed a small figure peering around the corner of the doorway after them. When he sat down on the couch that Trip indicated, a pair of small blue eyes slowly emerged at floor level around the edge of the living room entrance, watching him fixedly.

"Come on in, honey," Trip called gently. "It's ok. He's a good one." The little girl carefully advanced into the room, eyeing Eric with the wariness of a hamster watching a cat. He lowered his mug and tilted his head.

"Hm," Eric said. "What are you?" She paused and snuffled.

"'M 'Lissa," she told him defiantly.

"You're a Lissa?" Eric said curiously. "What's a Lissa?"

"Me!" She retorted indignantly. "I'm Lissa!" Trip grinned behind his hand.

"I never saw a Lissa before." Eric considered. "I've seen turtles, and dogs, and pollywogs, and ostriches. But I never saw a Lissa before. What do Lissa's do?"

She stared, nonplussed. An inquiring look at her father produced only a shrug. "I'm ta ony Lissa."

"The only one? Really?" Eric's eyes grew round. "How do you know? Did you ever look for other Lissa's? Where did you come from?"

"Urrrrr!"She stamped her foot. Marching over to Eric, she got in his face and announced, "I'm Lissa 'cause hit's my NAME. I'm a people."

"A people?" Eric drew back. "You're too little to be a people."

"AM NOT!" She bared her teeth. "I'm a Lissa people."

"Oh, well then. In that case, what do Lissa people do?" Eric wanted to know.

"Play games, and read books, and help Ma'Mehk," she informed him.

"You read books too?" Eric smiled. "I like books. What kind of books do you read?"

T'Lissa considered. "I like the piggies book, where dey cook da wolf."

"The Three Little Pigs? That was my favorite when I was a little person too," he told her. "Can you really read it?"

"Uh-huh," she told him proudly and emphatically.

"Will you read it to me?"

"Ok,"she agreed. "I go get." The little one turned and sped off on her mission, leaving Eric grinning so wide that his cheeks starting hurting.

"Well, you made a friend for life," Trip told him. "She loves to read to people."

"She's cute as a button," Eric responded. "Anna was right." Trip watched Eric chuckle and shake his head.

"How's your water holding up?"

"Um… empty again," Eric admitted.

Trip stood up. "Let me have it then. I will get you a refill and an ETA on supper while I am in there. Just watch your fingers if T'Lissa gets back before I do. She bites." He proceeded toward the kitchen, mug in hand.

"Hi, Hun," Trip pasted a smile across his face as he headed for the water pitcher. "Smells great."

"It pleases me that you think so," she told him, with a glance over her shoulder. "I hope Mr. Hess agrees."

"He will," Trip assured her. "Anything I can help with?"

"As far as food preparation, no." T'Pol spoke with finality that brooked no argument. "However-"

A timer dinged and T'Pol released him to leap for the oven. "My bread!"Trip peered over her shoulder while his wife rescued two small loaves that were starting to get just a shade too brown around the edges."Trip," she began with a careful lack of exasperation in her voice, "I sincerely hope you intend to follow through on your promise to adjust the thermostat on this oven."

He snapped to attention. "Yes,ma'am! You can depend on it, ma'am! I shall attend to it first thing in the morning, ma'am!" When T'Pol shot him a look he relaxed and grinned."Since everything is shut down for the holiday, I have the time now to catch up on all the things around here that I have been meaning to get done. I swear." He held up his hand.

"Perhaps you should return to our guest before T'Lissa decides to entertain him with a demonstration of her alpine abilities," T'Pol suggested pointedly,nudging him out of the way so she could put one of the bread pans on the table.

"She's reading him a book," Trip protested. "C'mon, hun. She doesn't try to climb everything. Not all the time."

"You were not present to hear the reverberation when she impacted the floor in the Eldest Mother's library after plummeting from the top of her tallest bookshelf," T'Pol informed him with a chill in her tone. "I have no intention of permitting her to break her neck due to negligence on our part."

"Ok!" Trip threw up both hands in surrender. "I'm going." He grabbed the refilled mug and made a break for it.

-&-

S'Tor,son of Paleth, the Primary Assistant Secretary to Adjunct Ministerial Assistant Kov, held himself stiffly erect in the waiting area and fought to conceal his vast distaste for the assignment before him. Since his kinsman was still indisposed at the Lonet-quor sanctuary,Minister Kuvak had ordered S'Tor to meet the arriving Vahklas as Kov's designated representative. He would infinitely rather have been ordered to penetrate the security perimeter of the Andorian embassy and steal the designs for their latest weapons research.

However,his duty was clear. He would meet these Vulcans-Without-Logic as he had been ordered. He would deliver the message that had been entrusted to him. And he would do it without compromising his self-respect or the dignity of his clan. Surely the additional three hours of meditation last night would enable him to deal with this. S'Tor had ridden the chartered transport shuttle up to the orbital shipyard in agreeable silence. Unfortunately, the scope of his assignment virtually ensured that the trip back down would not be nearly as conducive to inner serenity.

The docking procedure for the ancient ship was proceeding with some irregularity, largely due to incompatibility of the Vahklas' obsolete docking clamps with the port facilities. Finally, the comm unit buzzed and announced, "Vahklas has completed docking. Crewmembers are disembarking for scan and decontamination procedures. Once all personnel have disembarked,Vahklas will be towed immediately to the salvage area for disassembly."

S'Tor firmly suppressed a smile. At last that disgusting blot on the reputation of all Vulcan would finally be removed. The mere existence of the Vahklas, and more importantly her blatant contact with that Human ship, had openly proclaimed the message of the V'Tosh Katur to the quadrant at large. Prior to this only Vulcans, and not all Vulcans even, had been aware of the cult. After her rendezvous with Enterprise the Humans had immediately broadcast awareness of the Vulcans-Without-Logic across their planet. Naturally, Humans being incurable gossips, the news had spread like a plague throughout the quadrant to humiliate every right-thinking Vulcan alive. S'Tor clamped his teeth together to prevent them from gritting. All that remained now was to successfully re-integrate the remaining crew into functioning members of society. Then this particular nightmare could be consigned to the darkness of forgotten history, where it belonged.

It was impossible, and inadvisable, to actually meditate in the waiting area. But by gazing out the viewing port at the stars S'Tor was able to achieve a state of mind very close to first level trance. It helped him endure the wait until the comm announced that the V'Tosh Katur were waiting for him in reception room 13.

S'Tor carefully straightened his formal robes and turned to carry out his assignment, blissfully unaware of the Human superstition regarding certain numbers. Even had he been aware of the traditional significance of the number 13 to some Humans, it is unlikely that he would have placed any credence in such illogical nonsense.

-&-

"No, honey," Trip said tiredly, "you can't have another snack. You had your evening munchie. Besides, you already brushed your teeth. It's time for bed."

"But Sa-da!" T'Lissa pleaded.

"No,T'Lissa," T'Pol told her firmly. The child wilted and her shoulders slumped, plainly burdened down by the unfairness of life and the cruelty of parents. "Proceed to your bedroom and undress. I will follow momentarily and assist you with your gown." The little one sighed mournfully and shuffled off, glancing back once with a woebegone expression. Trip bit his lip to keep from chuckling.

"She is becoming increasingly stubborn about retiring for the night," T'Pol said, looking irritated. Trip shook his head, letting his smile escape.

"Not nearly as fussy as a Human kid, hun," he told her. "Me or any of my siblings would still have been arguing at full volume right now. At least, until Dad started grabbing and dragging." He chuckled.

On a Human T'Pol's expression would barely qualify as a mild wince. On a Vulcan face it was a full scale grimace. "We cannot permit her discipline to deteriorate to that point, Trip. It is neither appropriate nor, ultimately, safe."

"I'm not arguing," Trip raised both hands. "She's as stubborn as her mother and she's got that Vulcan temper too. I'm all for keeping the bluff on her. No dispute here. I just meant that she's not as hard to handle as some kids are." He walked over to the tea service and began heating water for their customary evening cups.

T'Pol gave him the raised Eyebrow of Spousal Aggravation. "Her negative behavior patterns cannot be laid exclusively on her Vulcan heritage, Trip."

"I never said they could," Trip replied around a small cracker. He started laying out a selection of crackers and small veggie slices on a plate while the teapot began to steam. "But I know how to handle the Human stuff. I’ve had more practice being sneaky than she has, after all. It's when she unleashes those Vulcan temper tantrums that get to me. All I can do then is hang on and pray." He set the plate on the table and reached for a pair of cups.

The corner of T'Pol's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. "It is her… sneaky… episodes that I find the most challenging. Those, and her tendency at times to simply rebel for the sake of rebellion itself." Trip sent her a grin and started measuring tea. She sighed and told him, "I had best assist T'Lissa with her bedtime rituals, before she decides to undertake another random act of rebellion. I will return shortly."

By the time she returned Trip had two steaming cups of tea poured and an inviting array of tidbits set out between them. T'Pol settled gratefully into her chair and picked up her drink between both hands. She closed her eyes and savored the feel of the hot beverage coating her throat on the way down. "I have often considered the irony - that nurturing a small child and a husband can be more exhausting than carrying out the duties of First Officer."

"Regrets?" Trip's voice sounded semi-serious. T'Pol opened her eyes to find him watching her carefully.

"Never,"she told him emphatically. "You should know that by now. If you do not,then I have been distressingly remiss in my responsibility to maintain the harmony of our home."

"Relax, hun," he reached a hand over to stroke her wrist briefly. "I know. I just like to hear it sometimes. I didn't mean to upset you."

T'Pol released her cup with one hand to capture his fingers. "My only regrets are the ones that you know. The mistakes that I made are ones that we have already talked about. If I had not been such a fool-"

"Hush. Shh" Trip placed his fingertips over her lips. "You weren't anywhere near as much a fool as I was," he whispered. "But it's all in the past. Leave it there. We're here, T'Lissa's here. We're together and that's what matters." He leaned over the table and planted a quick peck on her lips. Then he picked up a piece of carrot and offered it to her. She graciously accepted a nibble, and Trip popped the remainder into his mouth.

"Now,"Trip said, still crunching the last bit of orange vegetable, "how about you tell me what's really bothering you. I can feel that something is. Even with my pitiful excuse for telepathy, and even with your shields up, I can tell that much. When are you gonna get it through your head that you can't hide it from me when you're worried about something?" He speared a radish with a toothpick and peeled off a sliver with his incisors, suddenly blinking and grabbing a sip of tea. "Whoa. That one has a kick to it."

T'Pol permitted herself a silent internal sigh. He was correct of course. It was an exercise in futility,attempting to conceal her uneasiness from her bonded mate. Currently,and for the last few days, T'Pol's state of mind had not been in a state that came anywhere near approaching equilibrium - ever since she heard the news about the Vahklas coming back to Vulcan. Unfortunately for her efforts, her trellium induced neural damage would have prevented hiding her unease from Trip even if her body language had not already betrayed her.

"What do you wish to discuss?" Her tone was almost perfectly controlled.

"Is that really how you want to play it?" Trip raised his eyebrows and fought a losing battle against a smile.

T'Pol closed her eyes and gave up. "I am… concerned. The V'Tosh Katur are returning to Vulcan."

"So that's it," Trip said flatly. "Tolaris. You're scared I am going to do something crazy and stupid."

T'Pol stiffened ramrod straight. She looked at him with wounded eyes. "You are neither crazy, nor stupid. I would never accuse you of such."

His lips twitched and he couldn't help snorting in amusement. "I won't even try to argue the semantics of that one. But I want you to understand something." He looked at her seriously. "As much as I despise that…" He stopped. "As much as I despise Tolaris, I am not about to do any thing that will risk my losing you, T'Lissa, or little Malcolm in there," he pointed at her belly.

Centimeter by centimeter, he watched her muscles start to un-knot. More importantly, he felt her fear begin to slowly fade. T'Pol told him, "You know what happened. I told you the rest of it, every detail, while we were staying with the Eldest Mother. I am at least partly, if not entirely to blame for what happened. I had no excuse for inviting the meld."

"That's right, you didn't,"Trip agreed bluntly, with an edge to his voice. "But I have no right to pass judgment on that. We worked through those issues back then too. Remember? We both have pasts. I had old girlfriends. You had Tolaris,and you went through several Pon Farrs before you ever met me." Her expression changed, and he raised his hand. "I know, it isn't supposed to count when you take it for medicine. Besides, you went through more than one on nothing but drugs and meditation because unbonded women can do that sometimes. But my point is we both agreed that whatever happened before we were together is history. Neither of us has any right to judge or complain about anything that the other one did before we came together."

She looked down. "Agreed. I have no right to complain about that… princess. And you have no right to complain about the time I spent with Tolaris." She looked up. "Logically, I agree with this. But my logic is failing me, husband," she told him softly. "I have hurt you so many times. If another of my mistakes causes you to suffer harm, I am certain that I could not endure it."

Trip sighed. "I'm not going to suffer any harm because of what happened back then. Now, if he starts anything this time… well. I might just have to hurt the son of a … mother. But you didn't belong to me back then, and as much as I would love to skin him alive over a slow fire, I won't. Not for that."

Trip instantly found himself trying to suck in some air while in the grip of the tightest hug his wife had ever given him. He returned it as tightly as he dared, given her condition. "I love you too, Honey," he whispered almost inaudibly, hoping rather plaintively that she let go before he passed out.

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Chapter 2

"How does the robe look?" Trip fretted. "In the back I mean. Is it hanging straight?"

"It is quite acceptable," T'Pol told him serenely. "Your appearance is flawless, husband."

"Indeed, Charles," Lorat said. Calmly of course. "There is no cause for concern. This meeting is a routine matter."

"Yeah. Sure." Trip closed his mouth and recalled the last time he was face to face with Koss.

"…He could feel the rough leather of the knife grip in his sweating hand,and see the naked fear in the Vulcan's eyes. Trip pressed the blade against his throat and flicked his eyes toward Koss's companion. "One move from you and I carve him a new mouth..."

"Right. Just a routine matter."

Trip walked across the waiting room to look out the second floor viewing window that oversaw the assembly floor. The Human portion of the joint Human/Vulcan operation was shut down for the holiday break. Only one light in five was left on, leaving ominous looking patches of gloomy shadow splotching the floor of the silent factory. The prototype warp core on its raised dais bulked huge in the dimness, lurking in the center of the abandoned space like some huge cave bear, gone into hibernation to await the return of its makers. All around the massive beast, the floor was crowded with control terminals and stacks of spare parts and materials.

"I appreciate your being willing to meet us here," Trip turned away from the window to address Lorat and his companion, Sulden. "It makes things a lot simpler."

Sulden inclined his head. "It was no inconvenience, Charles. Particularly forf amily. Most particularly since the directors of Clan Tren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac took it upon themselves to hold this bi-annual meeting of the stockholders without the courtesy of notifying you."

"Yeah," Trip pursed his lips and looked at T'Pol."I suppose it would be considered inappropriate for me to beat their heads into the table in retaliation?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she returned with a deadpan expression. Trip sighed and looked back at the two old men and their elevated eye hair.

"T'Pol is kind of like my cultural attaché," he told them seriously. "She's constantly at work trying to train me in proper behavior. Things like, 'don't drool on the rugs,' and 'don't shoot the neighbors without a good reason,' stuff like that."

Lorat remarked, "Eldest Mother T'Para advised us that your sense of humor was somewhat distorted, at best. I see that her penchant for understatement remains intact." He turned his head toward the main entrance. An instant later the other Vulcans followed suit, so Trip headed down the hallway under the conviction that his company had arrived.

He was correct. Eric Hess came through the door slightly less exhausted than he had been the night before, but just as sweat soaked. "Oh man, Trip," he gasped. "How did you ever get used to this?"

"Get used to it? I never did," Trip told him. "I just got bored with complaining about it. Come on back and get some water."

"Yessir," Eric agreed hoarsely. He straightened when the three Vulcans came into view. "Oh, excuse me."

"Greetings, Eric Hess," T'Pol said gravely, offering him the ta'al. "I present to you two of the Elders of my clan, Lorat and Sulden."

Eric gamely made a stab at offering the split fingered salute, with indifferent success. "Um… greetings? I am honored to meet you both. I, uh,apologize for my appearance. I wasn't expecting anyone here but Trip. I mean, Captain Tucker. We were supposed to tour the factory so I wore casual clothing."

"I told them about our plans, Eric," Trip handed Eric a tall mug. "I'm sorry to throw a wrench into things at the last minute. Seems that keeps happening to you ever since you got here. If it's all right, T'Pol will give you the tour instead of me. She knows at least as much about what's happening here as I do, since she's been here all along while I spent half my time shuttling back and forth between here and Earth while we got this place set up."

Eric took the mug away from his mouth and sighed in relief. "Sure thing. Um…" He looked curious but shut up. Trip chuckled.

"It's complicated. Long story a little shorter, I own a piece of the K'Haril shipyards. The directors of the company that I own a piece of don't like me, and they called a surprise stockholders meeting for today without notifying me. I only know about it because T'Pol's family has spies there. So now I have to rush over and make sure that our interests are protected." He chewed the corner of his lip and watched Eric process this.

"You mean," Eric said slowly, "that you own apiece of the very shipyard that is going to be building the engines that Starfleet Command assigned you to design? Isn't that… I mean… is that… legal?"

"On Vulcan, yes," Trip told him seriously. "T'Pol's clan also owns a fair sized chunk of the same shipyards. Naturally, it's in everyone's best interest if we all look out for each other. Now, I know the technical end of things. That part is fine. Where I am weak is the legal and economic background, especially in terms of how the game is played under Vulcan rules. Which is where these two gentlemen come in," he gestured toward the Elders, who inclined their heads. "Sulden is the senior legal guy for T'Pol's clan. Lorat is a bean counter extraordinaire. They're coming with me to make sure that I don't get rooked."

"O…kay." Eric looked doubtful. "If you're sure that this is not going to cause problems. What does Starfleet Command think of this?"

"It is none of their concern," Sulden spoke up."This is a private family matter, involving personal property owned by individual members of the family, as well as the clan in common. All persons involved are Vulcan citizens and Earth has no jurisdiction over any of this."

"It's just the way things are done here, Eric,"Trip tried to explain. "I reacted the same way when I first came here. But it's not like it sounds. There are a lot of checks and balances built into the system to keep everyone honest. Believe me. Bottom line,everyone watches everyone else like a hawk. Nobody dares to try any funny business because as soon as they do, the whole system is designed to cave in on top of them like a mountain."

Eric blinked. "I'm glad I don't have to understand it. Good luck anyway. Knock 'em dead."They traded shoulder slaps and Trip headed out, followed by a bemused looking pair of Vulcans.

-&-

S'Tor, Primary Assistant Secretary to Adjunct Ministerial Assistant Kov, waited patiently while Council Minister Kuvak's receptionist announced his arrival. Upon receiving clearance to enter, S'Tor straightened himself and strode forward to present his report.

"Be seated, krei," the minister told him in a gracious, albeit distracted tone. Kuvak was standing at a side table sorting PADDs and separating papers. "I will be with you in 7.3minutes."

S'Tor obediently took a chair and folded his hands. As always when visiting this office, he welcomed the opportunity to peruse the minister's art collection. In particular, Minister Kuvak had spent years amassing an impressive selection of representational graphics created by various races. S'Tor found it fascinating to note the variability in visual perception among the Vulcanoid species of the quadrant.

He rotated the chair slightly to gain a view of his favorite graphic, a representation in glass of the Grahora Falls on Betazed, and noticed a new acquisition. S'Tor blinked and looked closely. Then he suddenly found himself standing in front of the picture without conscious intent.

"Compelling, is it not?" Kuvak's voice came from across the room and broke his concentration. S'Tor turned, discomfited.

"Indeed. May I inquire as to the artist?" He turned back to look at the picture again despite his best intentions.

Footsteps announced that the minister had crossed the room to join him, but S'Tor was unable to look away. "The artist is my son's wife, Anna. She created it using Terran oil-based polymers applied on cloth. The subject is a view of Shi'Kahr, as seen from the edge of Telo mesa, at midnight by the light of T'Khut."

The colors were incredible. S'Tor moved closer, only to find that the individual details seem to smear into chaos. When he stepped back the picture returned to focus. At arm's length the level of detail appeared almost photographic.

Knife-edged shadows of stygian black brought eye-hurting contrast to the glowing orange and brown and yellow of the desert. In the distance, the barrier guards of Shi'Kahr shone with subdued brilliance in the reflected light of Vulcan's sister planet. But their color was nothing remotely similar to what S'Tor had seen all his life. Beyond the perimeter barrier, graceful towers reached for the night sky - looking almost alien in their transformed hues and shadows.

The night sky that overarched the scene was crowded beyond belief with more stars than S'Tor could have imagined. It was nearly impossible to perceive the darkness of space between them, so many were they and so brightly did they shine.

And finally, T'Khut. She was reborn, flaming like the living goddess that the ancients had believed her to be. Their sister planet rode the night sky wearing the scars of battle that criss-crossed her face, and the fiery mountains that spewed molten fury were plain to see across the planet's surface.

"This... is how the night appears to Human eyes?" S'Tor asked slowly.

"So I am informed," Kuvak assured him. "Captain Tucker has also examined the painting, and he confirms that it presents a close representation of the Vulcan night as seen by Humans."

"I would..." S'Tor shook his head, feeling somewhat dazed. "I ask pardon, Minister."

"Granted,"Kuvak made a slight gesture of negation. "Your reaction is not unusual. I was quite gratified when Anna presented it to me."

"I can well imagine," S'Tor replied, following Kuvak back to the desk. They both took seats.

Kuvak looked pensive. "The city art repository has requested permission to display the painting for a year. Logically, I recognize that it would be the proper thing to do. Yet I find myself curiously reluctant to let it leave my possession. Perhaps after I have had a bit more time to internalize the salient aspects of the work, I may find myself more amenable to the suggestion."

"A work of such complexity will require substantial time and meditation to fully assimilate," S'Tor offered. "Perhaps Anna would be willing to prepare a different graphic for display at the repository?"

Kuvak looked startled. "The idea had not occurred to me. It is a superb suggestion, and one that I will certainly pass along to her."

S'Tor inclined his head. "I am here to serve."

"What progress has been made with the crew of Vahklas?" the Minister wanted to know.

S'Tor presented his data PADD to Kuvak and began report, "As directed, the personnel of Vahklas were segregated for individual screening – both physical and mental. The information provided by Chief Minister T'Pau was accurate. Three members of the crew are suffering from Pa'anar syndrome. The senior pilot, Tolaris, suffers the most advanced case and is seriously impaired."

Kuvak maintained a rigidly intact expression of indifference. Of course. "Treatment has been arranged?"

"Yes,"S'Tor assured him. "A senior priest is en route from the retreat at Mt. Seleya to perform the initial meld. Afterward, they will be placed in the mental ward at Shi'Kahr University Hospital for continued treatment under the supervision of the healer-melders."

Kuvak told him, "Satisfactory. What of the rest of the crew?"

"Their physical condition ranges from optimum to slightly sub-optimum," S'Tor told him. "But none of them carry any communicable hazards. The process of integrating them into society is underway." He paused and looked uncomfortable. "Several of Assistant Minister Kov's former colleagues in the engineering section aboard Vahklas have made a specific request."

Kuvak tensed faintly. "What request?"

Speaking with careful precision, S'Tor said, "They wish to apply for employment with the Humans. Since their most senior engineering member was offered a position aboard a Human starship, the remaining Vahklas engineers speculate that they might be able to obtain positions with the Human's warp upgrade project."

Kuvak looked thoughtful. "A surprisingly logical plan. I will forward a request to Captain Tucker to meet with me on the matter. Charles has proven himself to be a true follower of the IDIC principle. Moreover, he and his fellow Humans will inherently have a high level of tolerance for the... emotional surges the V'Tosh Katur exhibit."

"I will inform them of this, Minister," S'Tor said grimly. Kuvak raised two fingers.

"There is no requirement for you to interface with them further, S'Tor," Kuvak told him. "I will arrange a direct laison through my own office. You have done your duty well. I will report as much to my son when here turns."

S'Tor stood and bowed. "It is most agreeable to hear this, Minister. If I am needed further, do not hesitate to call upon me." He turned and left the office, determined to find an appropriate place to meditate immediately. It was absolutely not acceptable for a civil servant, especially at his elevated level, to feel an almost irresistible urge to burst into song.

-&-

"This is one hell of a place for a business meeting," Trip declared, banking the air car and coming in for a landing at the edge of the mountain's ledge.

"Indeed," Lorat agreed disapprovingly. "It is a most inappropriate venue."

"Not entirely, krei," Sulden disputed. "The corporation originated as a consortium between caravans, with this mountain fortress being their designated meeting place for the yearly division of assets."

"That was 4600 years ago, krei," Lorat pointed out. "The company has been operating out of modern offices in K'Haril, adjacent to the shipyards themselves, for sixteen centuries."

"Doesn't look like there'll be much in the way of amenities in there," Trip remarked, shutting off the engine. "Like climate control or running water. Most likely they picked this spot to run off the pesky Human intruder."

"Beyond question you are correct, Charles," Lorat didn't fume. Vulcans don't fume. But if he were Human he would have been fuming.

"I recommend that you fill a water container, Charles," Sulden suggested."Perhaps you might also wish to drink your fill before we enter."

"Good thought," Trip agreed. He opened the car's built in cooler and pulled out three bottles of water. He cracked the top on one and started draining it.

Getting into the fortress was a pain. After examining Trip's identification every way possible, and running Trip himself through every biometric scan known to Vulcan-kind, the guard grudgingly acknowledged his right to enter. But he tried to stop Lorat and Sulden.

"This meeting is for shareholders only," He side stepped and blocked the gateway.

Trip was about fed up already, and they weren't even inside yet. But since that was the whole point he couldn't let it show. Instead he smiled and said, "They are shareholders. This morning I personally made them a gift of one share each. And they are here at my personal invitation. Read the bylaws. As a shareholder owning more than 10% of the corporation's voting stock, I hold the irrefutable right to invite up to three witness/advisors to any meeting I choose." He let the smile broaden. "Now get out of the way or I'll personally insert a formal report of incompetence into your employment file."

The guard actually glowered as he stepped aside, which Trip chalked up as a new one. He had never seen a Vulcan glowering before. Look irritated, certainly. Sneer, on rare occasions. Glare, yes, once or twice. But never a full-fledged glower. "It was worth the trip just for that," he reflected.

The main hall wasn't what Trip expected. He had been looking forward to something like an old English castle, with a big main entrance and a tall ceiling. Instead they entered a low roofed passageway that had been roughly stacked together out of native stone. It didn't even look like mortar was used. Big slabs overhead provided a roof of sorts.

The far end of the passage led to a winding stairway carved out of solid rock that hugged the side of the mountain. It was steep, and narrow,and completely exposed to sun and wind. After five minutes Trip called a break to wheeze. His companions waited with no sign of impatience.

"Guys,"he panted. "Please... don't take... this the wrong... way but... I really hate... your planet." He bent over and grabbed his knees while sweat beaded and dripped off his face.

"It is also unfortunate that the meeting is being held at midday," Lorat said flatly, looking up the trail. "Would you prefer to be carried, Charles?"

Trip hacked a laugh and straightened up. "Not while I'm conscious. I made it through the Forge on that damn Kahs-Wahn. I can make it up this hill. I'm just a little slow, that's all." He turned and resumed trudging.

"I am reminded," Sulden said. "I am told that it is Human custom to offer congratulations to someone who has successfully achieved a goal after great effort. Completing the Kahs-Wahn was a respectable accomplishment on your part, Charles."

"Indeed," Lorat agreed.

"Thanks," Trip said shortly. "Almost didn't. Barely made it." He saved the rest of his air for climbing.

A cave at the top of the mountain had been hollowed out and smoothed into a meeting hall. The original entrance had also been supplemented by cutting window-like openings into the sidewalls of the cavern at its thinner points. This, plus the burning torches and firebeasts, allowed sufficient light for Vulcan eyes to function.

Trip had no problem at all with the lighting. The torches and firebeasts however, added a little extra warmth that he really didn't need. The only gap in the two benches was on the far side of the table, between two flaming bowls and in front of a firebeast. He sighed and headed that way.

Sulden and Lorat entered right behind him, causing an uncomfortable stirring among the gathered stockholders. Apparently many of the Vulcans present recognized Trip's companions and were less than overjoyed to see them.

For his part, Trip was less than overjoyed to see Koss sitting at the table, right next to the Moderator. Next to Koss was some old guy that Trip had never seen before. Then two more middle-aged men who looked vaguely familar. On the far side of the table, facing the full glare of the sunlit entrance, were three young men who had an expression of"what am I doing here?" stamped on their faces.

When Trip sat down Lorat grabbed the firebeast and carried it to the far end of the cave, while Sulden relocated the torches. Disapproval marked several faces, but no one offered a peep of objection. Lorat and Sulden took positions standing behind Trip's shoulders with their hands folded together, in the position that Trip privately thought of as "Vulcan parade rest".

The geezer at the head of the table, whose name was... Trip couldn't remember it to save his ass... clacked a rock on the surface and spoke. "Since all of the shareholders who have served notice of attendance have finally arrived," he looked straight at Trip,"this meeting will come to order."

Trip raised two fingers immediately, before anyone else had a chance to say or do anything. The geezer... Stark, that was his name, looked around but could see no valid excuse for not recognizing him. "Shareholder Charles Tucker,speak."

"Two points, Moderater," Trip told him calmly. "First point. Your initial implication of tardiness is inaccurate and illogical, since the meeting was not scheduled to begin until precisely noon, and it still lacks three minutes and... eleven seconds until that time." Stark's face darkened. "Second point. I was not notified of this meeting by any official channel. I formally accuse the board of an egregious and malicious violation of the corporation bylaws, and I hereby serve notice that this violation has been reported to the Security Directorate."

CRACK.

The stone hit the table's surface like thunder. "You deliberate attempt to disrupt this meeting is sufficient cause to remove you-"

"Incorrect." Sulden's voice sliced through the room and drew all eyes to him. "Charles Tucker's first point is valid, but irrelevant to the business of this meeting. His second point is both valid and relevant. Since Charles Tucker was awarded his shares in this corporation by the Security Directorate as direct victim's compensation for criminal attack, it is certainly within his rights to notify the Security Directorate if he has evidence of a conspiracy to deny him full access to that compensation."

Total silence enveloped the room. Trip kept his eyes on the Moderator, as was proper etiquette. But from the corner of his field of view he noticed at least one of the middle-aged guys looking troubled. Koss was turning an interesting shade of emerald-brown.

"You have not been recognized," the Moderator finally managed. "Your remarks will be stricken."

"Doesn't matter," Trip said conversationally. "This is Sulden, chief counsel and legal advisor to T'Para, Eldest Mother of Clan... "Here we go. Please, don't let me screw it up."...Sh'hiran'..lin'iijyliunh'...rei'iy'iukn'...hy'wen'...lhia'...ehrm'n. His companion is Lorat, chief accounting officer for the clan.

"Your ongoing pattern of unwarranted and unprovoked hostility toward my client has been duly noted, and will be added to the report that is currently on file with the Security Directorate," Sulden told the Moderator. "Now, since your choice of meeting venue was obviously chosen to inflict maximum discomfort on my client, we will depart."

He placed a standard Fleet issue datacorder on the table. "I will require a full and complete recording, including all audio and visual input, in addition to all documentation of this meeting, to be provided to my office no later than sunset tomorrow."

"Unacceptable." Koss was seething. "This is the regular bi-annual meeting. If your client is physically incapable of attending, it is not the responsibility of this board to undertake extraordinary efforts on his behalf."

Trip closed his eyes and his mind. He pictured T'Para's meditation garden,with her sparkling fountain. Cool silence. Soft breaths.

"Ordinarily you would be correct," Sulden corrected Koss. "However given the willful disregard for law and custom that has been displayed by this board, I believe we can make a compelling case before the High Council that such efforts are justified."

"Why would the High Council be interested in a routine stockholder's meeting?" The question, out of order, came from the same middle-aged Vulcan that Trip had noticed looking troubled earlier.

"Shareholder Jorin, you have not been recognized," the Moderator blustered.

"Nor was Shareholder Koss," he returned bluntly, "yet he was permitted to speak unhindered. I repeat my question for Sulden. Why would the High Council care about this?" The three oldest members and Koss all winced.

"Were you not aware," Sulden surveyed him curiously, "that Shareholder Captain Charles Tucker is also in charge of the Human warp upgrade project? Further, that it was only through Shareholder Captain Tucker's intercession that Starfleet agreed to have the upgraded Human engines built at K'Haril?"

Jorin's face tightened. "I was not aware of the last part of your statement." He looked at Trip.

Trip shrugged. "It was in the best interest of my people. Both of my peoples." He looked at the Moderator. "Or so I thought at the time."

Jorin said tightly, "I will personally see to it that your request is honored." He looked toward the head of the table. "This clan has already been dishonored through the actions of Subminister V'Rald. I, for one, refuse to permit further dishonor to accrue. You will receive your recording and all pertinent documentation prior to sundown tomorrow."

For once, Trip didn't feel like the least popular person in the room. Every eye from ClanTren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac was burning a hole through poor Jorin, who didn't seem very worried about it.

Lorat tapped Trip's shoulder lightly and quickly. The Human came to himself. Time to make a break for it. He quietly stood up and the trio got halfway around the table before anyone noticed.

"And thus, the vaunted Human warrior retreats," Koss growled sourly.

It happened in a fraction of a second - before Trip could finish inhaling. The only thing that kept the meeting cave from turning into an bloodpit was T'Para's long hours of patient tutelage. Trip stopped himself before he made the second step toward his enemy's throat.

He closed his eyes and half turned, throwing his mind desperately in the modified form of the Disciplines that he, T'Para, and T'Pol had hammered out between them for his use. He sucked strength from the matebond the way he had drained water from the seep he discovered on his survival test. All external sensory input shut down, his mind was turned inward. Nothing mattered but the fire in his blood, and the need to cool it before it reached critical mass again.

Finally he opened his eyes, to find everyone in the cave watching him. Sulden and Lorat were flanking him on either side, ready to either restrain him or back him up as required. He felt a sudden surge of affection for the pair.

Koss had spun on the bench and was sitting ready, with his eyes glittering. It suddenly hit Trip. "He wants it. But he wants me to start it."

Not surprising, really. Trip had humiliated him at T'Pol's Gathering, and then he had sent his uncle to prison. And Koss was a fool, so naturally he wanted a piece of Trip. The face that Trip was a trained Starfleet officer with more combat experience than deskbound Koss was capable of imagining would never be able to penetrate his ethno-centric head.

So Trip smiled graciously. "Retreat? I was not aware that this was a battlefield. I came here to discuss lawful business. Does your remark perhaps indicate a desire to declare war?"

Koss stiffened and the Moderator broke in, "No. Koss made an unfortunate attempt at emulating the Human custom of joking. It appears that he was unsucessful. No hostility was intended or implied." Stark looked warily at Trip's Vulcan escort, neither of whom let anything get past their poker faces.

Jorin weighed in thoughtfully, looking at Koss, "It would be in the best interest of this corporation, and the greater clan itself, for all parties present to concentrate their efforts on production rather than bickering over past events." He turned to Trip and offered the ta'al. "It has been both agreeable and enlightening to meet you, Captain Tucker. I wish you peace and long life."

"Um. Live long and prosper," Trip told him, holding up his hand. "I regret that I am unable to make the proper gesture due to... an injury I suffered sometime ago." Jorin inclined his head.

They were halfway down the stairway before Trip began to get his shaking under control. When the reached the air car he slumped against the shaded side for a moment, just gasping and sweating. Lorat keyed the door open and helped him inside.

"Thanks, guys," Trip sat back and dug out a fresh bottle of water from the onboard cooler. "I never would have made it without you two. Especially... never mind. Would either of you like something liquid?"

Sulden glanced at Lorat and told him, "We are both adequately hydrated at the moment. However, you should certainly take the time to replenish your bodies fluid and electrolyte balance."

Trip nodded and cracked the cap. He upended the half liter bottle and drained it in one long, slow swallow. The two Vulcans looked first amazed, and then slightly alarmed.

"Are you unwell, Charles?" Lorat wanted to know. "The hospital is quite near."

Trip chuckled. "I'm fine. Or I will be fine. I just need some time here in Human normal temperature and a chance to get some water in me. That meeting room was starting to drain me pretty dry."

"It was entirely inappropriate for the board to arrange the meeting in such a location," Sulden said, with hooded eyes. "Would you like one of us to drive?"

"Feel free." Trip slid over to the co-pilot seat and let Lorat move into driver's position. He dropped the empty into the trashbox and pulled out another water bottle. This time he dropped in a couple salt tabs before pouring half of it down his throat.

"Are you quite sure you do not require medical attention, Charles?" Sulden persisted. "I have never seen anyone intake so much water so quickly."

Trip chuckled. "Earth climate varies a lot, so my people have adapted for different extremes. My ancestors lived in a cold and damp region. I don't handle dry heat very well."

"I confess to surprise at the degree of open hostility exhibited," Lorat offered as they took off. "It seems most illogical."

Trip pulled the bottle away from his lips. "They're still pissed about what happened at the Gathering. On top of putting V'Rald away. Nobody likes getting busted. Getting busted twice because of the same guy has got to be rubbing them raw."

"Those matters have been settled," Lorat stated. "The issue of violating the Tehlp'hlat standards has been dealt with. V'Rald has been tried and convicted. The logical course of action would be to consign the issues to the unfortunate past and concentrate on building an effective working relationship."

"I get the impression that Clan Tren... the Clan Koss belongs to didn't dive headfirst into the Kirshara like you guys did," Trip said in amusement. "They want payback."

"Pay? For what, Charles?" Lorat sounded confused. "What did you purchase and fail to pay for?"

"Sorry, Human slang. Payback means revenge," Trip said. Both Vulcans flinched.

"I sincerely hope that we have progressed beyond the point of such petty obsessions," Lorat said.

"Unfortunately not," Sulden told him. "I wish I could believe that. However my occupation precludes such an optimistic worldview. A distressingly large number of cases are brought into the court system for nothing more nor less than simple revenge."

"Illogical and counterproductive," Lorat said tiredly.

"But understandable," Trip noted. "Or at least, I think I understand them. Emotional motivation is something I don't have any trouble wrapping my mind around."

"A useful skill," Sulden told him. "I noted during the negotiations that your ability to interface with the Andorians was remarkably effective."

Trip snorted. "Thanks. I think. Andorians are highly charged even by Human standards. It would do them all a world of good to take up meditating." He finished the second bottle and dropped it in the disposal. "How many... five. That makes five since we left the factory. I better stop for a while."

"I was favorably impressed, Charles," Lorat spoke impassively, keeping his eyes on his flying, "by your own self-control during the meeting." Trip sighed.

"I am of the opinion," Sulden offered, "that Koss was deliberately attempting to provoke you into an open display of anger. Perhaps even violence. You did well, young man." His tone and phrasing was that of an Elder to a younger clan member, and Trip suddenly felt like a schoolkid being given a gold star.

"I...um." Trip cleared his throat."Thanks. That means a lot. I've worked hard on learning how to keep my temper." He looked out the side window. "I knew Koss would be there, so I had time to get my mind set for it. I had to be ready to block whatever he threw at me."

"You anticipated his attempt at provocation?" Lorat asked.

Trip did not answer immediately. "I figured he might try to piss me off. But either way, I had to be ready to keep control." The two Vulcans were silent for a brief time.

"I would seem that you and Koss both retain some residual animosity towards each other," Sulden spoke delicately.

"I wanna kill him," Trip said bluntly. "I'm never gonna stop wanting to kill him. Not while I'm alive." Silence resumed.

Lorat said, with exquisite care, "The Eldest Mother is an acknowledged expert in-"

"She already spent months working with me and T'Pol," Trip interrupted him."She's the reason I'm not in a Starfleet stockade right now."

"I see," Lorat said. He adjusted their heading silently.

"Is there evidence," Sulden finally asked, "that Koss was in collusion with his uncle in the attempts on you and your family's lives?"

"That's not it," Trip told him tiredly. "You both know about T'Pol's..." He locked his teeth. "What happened when..." He hissed out his breath.

"Charles?" Sulden sounded concerned.

Trip shook his head. "You both know about T'Pol's... wedding." He forced it out. The two Vulcans exchanged a swift glance.

"Yes," Lorat told him. "We know."

"I stood there," Trip said, looking out the window and seeing nothing. "I just stood there and did nothing. I didn't say a word or raise my hand. While that son of bitch took my woman!" He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles grew white on the arm rests.

"Your actions were honorable, Charles," Sulden assured him quietly. "Your choice to withdraw was based on your concern for T'Pol's welfare."

"It meant nothing!"

The words hung in the air like a bare blade. Trip kept his eyes closed and concentrated on re-establishing control. "There was no point in it. T'Less made a break for the Forge. Koss' family wasn't going to protect her anyway. It was all a lie. I gave up my woman, my self-respect..."He stopped to breathe hard.

"Their dishonor does not detract from your decision, Charles," Sulden said. "T'Pol will always remember what you did."

"Yeah,"Trip said bitterly. "She'll always remember that I stood by like a nutless wonder, too cowardly to fight for her. That's what she'll remember." He turned to look out the window. "If I knew then about the right of gasrak challenge, Koss would never have lived long enough to see the ceremony. But I didn't. So now I get to spend the rest of my life remembering how I stood there and let that scum sucking son of pig strut up and take my woman away from me while I stood there and did nothing." He was shaking.

"Have you discussed this with T'Pol?" Lorat asked him. "I sincerely doubt that she regards it the way that you describe."

"Doesn't matter how she regards it," Trip told them. "It's how it FEELS to me." Silence fell again. It stayed quiet for a very long time. The spires of Shi'Kahr were coming into distant view when Sulden spoke again.

"Is there any assistance that we can offer, Charles?"

Trip was leaning back against the headrest. He didn't move when he answered."No. My mind knows that I did what was ethically right. My brain tells me that I did the morally correct thing. But this has nothing to do with my brain. This is down in my balls. This is in my blood. My mind says one thing, but my instinct tells me that I let that..." He stopped to sigh. "My instinct tells me that I let another man take my woman away from me and didn't even try to stop him. My instincts tell me I acted like a spineless coward. And all the meditation, all the pep talks in the world aren't going to change that. Even if I killed the sonuvabitch, it wouldn't change anything. The memory would still be there."

"Yet ultimately," Lorat pointed out, "she chose you."

"Because he threw her away," Trip said. "Not because she chose me. Because he threw her away, and then she realized that she had bonded me by accident. Not because she deliberately chose me. She didn't. She just ended up with me by default."

The bitterness crept up into his voice again and he rubbed his forehead. "I could kill him. I have friends who would be willing to help me. The Andorians think they owe me an honor debt. Even some of my old shipmates would probably be willing to help me. I could make it happen. Probably even get away with it. But what difference would it make?"

"If you do not desire to remain with T'Pol, you are not required to do so," Sulden said flatly.

Trip coughed out a strangled laugh. "Right. Severing the bond would probably kill me. Even if it didn't, you think I'm going to abandon my babies? But the thing is... I don't want to leave her." He smiled painfully. "That's the most humiliating part. I still love her. I still want her,even after all of this. Most of the time I don't even think about it. I try with everything I am not to let it bother me. But sometimes... like when I see that rat licking, goat humping son of..." He stopped. "Like when I see Koss, It all comes back and hits me like a club between the eyes again."

"We will be landing in 4.7 minutes Trip," Lorat told him. "Which destination would you prefer? The factory port or the main city terminal?"

Trip rubbed his forehead with both hands. "City terminal please, if you don't mind. I think I want to visit the Terran embassy. I could use workout and a swim to get rid of some tension."

"A logical suggestion," Lorat turned the aircar and headed for the center of the city.

TBC