In the main briefing room on the Enterprise, everyone waited for Kirk's presentation on the Genesis project. Saavik doubted the Empress had as many guards as was on display here. For each of Kirk's captains and first officers, one guard flanked the wall behind them, and as always, the inevitable argument came up that Spock had an extra guard present since she was here as science officer while Stron guarded Spock's back. And as always, Kirk had overruled the argument before the meeting began. He would arrive soon with four guards just to aggravate the situation, she was sure of it.

Like every other time, the Excelsior's and Reliant's officers made derogatory remarks about Vulcans as if that evened the situation. So far the topic was Johnson's murder. No one knew who did it but they plainly didn't believe her innocence. Pointing out anyone could copy the technique she used on Gustaf fell on deaf ears. She wondered how they never tired of these petty games and watched Commander Chekov squirm as he was lumped into Spock's party.

Spock...

As surreptitiously as possible, she kept glancing sideways up the table. Spock seemed more brooding, but nothing more. At least, nothing more to anyone who didn't know him. She saw the strain around his eyes and how he carefully kept his hands folded on the table.

She was cut off from him. Her duties with the Genesis project covered her delegating more of her guard duties; she communicated through other officers, and here at the table, Chekov sat between them.

It made her feel alone for the first time in years. And as Spock still chose no one to be with him, her isolation was made sharper with worry for his life.

She sensed T'Mes, her assistant science officer and Stron's wife, observing her. She quickly focused on the other's talking for the sake of distraction. Today's next anti-Vulcan topic concerned Admiral Cartwright's new mistress.

"Valeris," Terrell, captain of the Reliant, said. "A Vulcan. I swear. Cartwright's new woman is a Vulcan. They say he's flaunting her all around Starfleet Command."

"I heard he took her to his last presentation with the Empress," Winston Kyle, Terrell's first officer, added.

Chekov scoffed, "Rumors!" earning him a killing glance from Sulu. Traitor it said.

"It's not a rumor!" Uhura said hotly. "I saw her. We both did," she indicated herself and Sulu, "when Kirk met with Cartwright on Excelsior. That Valeris was there. Cartwright is sick over her."

"The feeling's not mutual," Sulu said and smiled. It was oily and lewd. "Vulcan honor apparently doesn't stop you from sleeping to the top."

She ignored the stares in her direction while she mentally filed the only important point they mentioned: Kirk had met secretly with Cartwright on Excelsior. Why? The topic was unknown, but she knew Spock was supposed to find out about the meeting. If not, Sulu would have killed Uhura for revealing it. Kirk was pitting the two captains against each other, egging Sulu on by holding his meeting off Enterprise.

Richichi probably set the meeting; he once served with Cartwright.

"And with the admiral so high in favor, Valeris is getting a lot of attention," Kyle was saying. "Only Sarek still outlasts Cartwright with the Empress' patronage."

"Better be careful, Spock," Sulu said, teeth flashing in a baneful smirk. "You may not be Sarek's heir much longer."

Spock glowered hard at him, but did no more. Saavik didn't know how he held back.

The silence disappointed Uhura. "You're quiet, Mr. Saavik. You'd better be careful. Valeris was looking for Spock while she was here. Wouldn't that upset you."

Saavik kept her sigh to herself. She hated this posturing, hated more that she had to play at it. "Upset, no. Although you seem to be. Jealousy perhaps. Using sex has worked better for Valeris than it has for you."

Uhura was on her feet, dagger flashing in her hand, but Saavik knew it was coming and was up before the other woman. She slammed the woman's weapon hand down on the table. Guards snapped phasers onto targets and the men pushed back from the table. In the brief quiet, the jangle from the Imperial pins clustered on Saavik's hip jarred the ears. Uhura's eyes drop to them and her grip tightened on her knife.

"Don't," Saavik warned, dagger aimed at Uhura's head. The other woman was a real threat; she had to do this right. "If you do, you had better kill me on the first strike because I plan to scar your face badly. And with your looks gone, how long before Sulu bans you from Excelsior?"

Chekov and Terrell laughed while Sulu's smile grew darker.

The door opened and Kirk plowed in with the expected Richichi, Fathiyya, and two other guards. He stopped at the display and a slow sneer crossed his face. "I evidently missed the best part of the meeting. But I need everyone alive for this mission. Stand down," he ordered the women.

They did, slowly. By chance, Saavik looked in Spock's direction as she settled into her seat. His eyes were fired with appreciation and awareness, but he quickly hid them by looking down at his padd.

Kirk took the head of the table and remained standing. "I hope everyone here is going to have the same blood fever for our mission. This is going to put us at the top of the Fleet."

Saavik shuddered at the accidental choice of words: blood fever. Spock's plak tow...

Kirk activated the computer. "The Romulans have been attacking border settlements. I convinced Starfleet Command to let me -- and therefore you -- to stop the Romulans in their tracks by making an example of some of them. I plan to use the Genesis torpedo, now renamed Armageddon, on a border world used for one of our POW camps. All Imperial staff will be evacuated, the Romulans will not. You can see the planet here."

It appeared on the viewscreen: an ugly, scarred world. Saavik felt it burn into her eyes.

"This planet," Kirk explained, "was originally Romulan property, lost during the war. In fact, the file we're viewing is from the original Romulan notes. It makes a good target both because it was once theirs and because of its proximity to the border."

Below the image, the planet's name appeared written first in Romulan script, then in English: Thieurrull. With a sadistic gleam, Kirk asked Saavik to translate the name.

She did so, forcing any reaction out of her voice. It wasn't easy. Never, in all her preparations for this briefing, did she guess Kirk would pick this world. She should have. "Guard post to Hell, Admiral. The name appears in Romulan mythology as the place where souls of dishonored warriors go before descending into Hell itself. From it, they can hear the screams of the damned and know what is in store for them. Humans have shortened the name to Hellguard."

Kirk watched like a Romulan bird of prey himself for any change in her as he spoke. "I'm not sure if everyone in the room knows that our Lieutenant Saavik has a personal affiliation for this particular world. It is, in fact, the POW camp she herself came from."

She felt everyone's eyes snap on her and then drop to the tattoo peeking out on the underside of her left forearm. She resisted the impulse to flip her arm over and turned her face to stone.

He asked her, pleasure immersed in every word, "Do you have any problems being a part of its destruction, Lieutenant?"

She beat him at his game. "It is a disgusting, filthy world, Admiral, and I will find it highly satisfactory firing the torpedo into its heart."

She saw his look of disappointment and didn't care. Spock's knuckles were white as they gripped his padd. She felt their separation keenly. Even after this briefing, she couldn't be alone to talk to him about what it was like to know she was going back to that world.

Kirk returned to the mission briefing. "The Enterprise will go to Hellguard warning the camp commandant of the evacuation. I'm temporarily transferring to the Excelsior and the Reliant is going with us."

Sulu jeered at Spock, victorious in another point over the Vulcan captain.

Kirk went on, "We will contact the Romulan ships on the border--" The screen turned to a tactical map displaying the latest known plot points for the Romulan border patrols. "-- warning them of the exercise and giving them the ultimatum to stop attacking the Empire or Armageddon would be used on all other Romulan border worlds. At the coordinated time, Enterprise will then fire on Hellguard."

He turned sharply on Saavik. "What's the chance the planet will support life after Armageddon reforms it?"

"I estimate a 55.19% probability the world will be unstable, Admiral."

Kirk stood quietly for a moment before giving his next orders. "Send a team to monitor it. If it works, the Romulans get to look at the Empire thriving on what was once their world. If it doesn't, we've still proved a point by leaving a smoking hole."

Spock shifted in his seat. Kirk quickly noticed it and commented, "Got a problem with all this, Mr. Spock?"

The Vulcan shook his head, but his fingers tapped on the table. Saavik caught the gesture and held her breath.

Kirk smiled cruelly. "You sure? Didn't you have a problem the last time you were on Hellguard? Some relative tried to wipe you out, isn't that right?"

Saavik noted Kirk knew of the incident, but not that she was the one to rescue Spock starting their association all those years go.

Kirk obviously enjoyed watching Spock more or less writhe. It fed his sadistic streak. "Since you're familiar with the camp, beam down to the planet personally to contact the commandant. Take Saavik."

The blood under POW tattoo throbbed in her veins.

"Oversee the science team yourself, Mr. Spock, as it takes readings of the Armageddon world. Chekov can take command while you're down there. I want you and Saavik handing me a victory or I'll have your heads."

Spock's lip twitched as if he was going to snarl. Saavik hurriedly spoke. "The readings can be taken from Enterprise itself. Going to the surface will be unnecessary, Admiral."

Kirk hadn't looked this evil since trying to kill her in his cabin her second day aboard the ship. The others were gloating. "I'm ordering the team to the surface, headed by Spock. Assign whoever else is necessary. You just may find out why the protomatter can't be stripped from the matrix."

"Sir," Saavik pointed out, "the readings will take a number of days. I estimate --"

But Kirk interrupted. He placed his fists on the table and leaned into Spock's face. "Make sure to pack well, Spock. Sounds like you got a long stay down there." He jerked his head at Chekov, twisting the knife into the Vulcan further. "I'm sure the ship will be there when your team is ready to beam back up."

Spock spoke for the first time. "You had better hope so, Admiral. After all, I am still an Investigator and if I die, Starfleet Command will look for a traitor in your fleet."

Kirk ground his teeth together and everyone else carefully averted their eyes. They were brusquely dismissed, but no one moved until Kirk stormed out.

Spock ordered Saavik and T'Mes to stay behind to discuss their plans for the science expedition. Stron and his wife took care in placing themselves between Saavik and him after Chekov left. Spock took this in angrily and gave a sharp order to scan the room. Stron did so and found only their own listening devices. Still, he activated a jammer giving them privacy.

Saavik looked at the others. "Kirk believed the ruse and gave us exactly the plan we wanted. Even if the planet is unstable, we have days on Thieurrull after the Armageddon torpedo is used."

It was the only good thing to happen at the meeting. By maneuvering Kirk's antagonism through Spock's obvious agitation and her hurried comments drawing attention to it, they had orders that gave Spock time and a location he needed for pon farr. She would send the science team to other parts of the world for readings, coordinating it through herself, and give him and the woman of his choice seclusion. It was not the same as going home to Vulcan, but it was the best they could do in the circumstances.

Seeing the effects the Fires already had on him made her stomach spin. She took a step towards him, almost calling out his name.

T'Mes interfered. "Shouldn't we go, Lieutenant? We need to prepare for the expedition."

Over the other woman's shoulder, she saw Spock turn furious. "You are not fooling anyone, T'Mes. And Saavik must also prepare for our arrival at the commandant's office. You heard Admiral Kirk. She will be my personal guard there."

Stron calmly slipped in, back to back with his wife and facing down Spock's anger. "I believe Soluk and I will accompany you as guards, Captain. The Admiral wants Saavik there as science officer. It is unfortunate he picked this particular world, but our plans did work today. You need only choose someone now."

Nothing softened the blow those words had on Saavik. But Spock's life came first.

. . . . .

Thieurrull, Underground, Camp Commandant's office

Commander Sumic was more than pleased to be leaving and Spock fought the temptation to snap the man's neck.

They toured Thieurrull's subterraneous labs and command centers, Sumic making note of what equipment to evacuate with his personnel. His constant prattle grated harshly on Spock's strained control. He never thought Vulcans capable of babbling until he met Sumic. Maybe that was why the commandant was stationed in this hell.

But Spock's brutal sense of honesty made him face his reaction to the other Vulcan. Sumic bothered him not because of his irritating chatter or because of his complete disregard for the prisoners about to murdered, a logical reaction but also malicious at the least. No, he detested Sumic for the way he had treated Saavik.

When she had first entered the commandant's office, Sumic saw the POW tattoo and ordered Security to seize her. It took only a moment for Spock to override the order, but in that moment, Stron and Soluk had to immediately come to her defense, supporting her as she struck against the camp guards, holding them back. That marked the first time Spock had ached to tear Sumic's windpipe out.

Even acknowledging Saavik was Starfleet didn't stop the commandant from quietly having someone look up her old prisoner records while he listened to Spock's initial report. Derisive scorn was plain on his face when Sumic saw she was a half-breed.

"I remember you now, 43919," he had said, using her prisoner ID. "I first thought you were killed in that prisoner riot years ago, but I received the report that you had obtained Imperial citizenship. Not Vulcan citizenship, however. We are far too logical to allow that."

That had marked the second time Sumic's windpipe escaped being separated from the rest of his body.

Saavik's presence had caused a stir when they moved through the camp and then underground. Because of the damned uniform Kirk forced her to wear, prisoners and guards alike saw her tattoo. Spock had suffered with her, wishing he could talk to her about it, but he couldn't be alone with her anywhere. Not until the pon farr was over.

Which meant he had to choose a woman, a thought that disgusted him because it meant starting the whole damned process he had endured each time before.

If only...

Underground, the sight of all the food and water available to the guards while the prisoners starved and died above revolted him let alone how he imagined it affecting Saavik. So when she, acting as his second, suggested she return to the surface to organize the efforts up there, he had agreed. Stron and Soluk stayed with him and T'Mes accompanied her above.

"It is good to finally leave," Sumic said. "Serving well here as only meant staying for too much of my career. I question where I will be relocated. I would prefer it not be another prison camp. Although," he gestured to the Romulan prisoners working at science stations throughout this particular lab, "our Sundered cousins have shown actual intelligence. This group works on our biological weapons development."

Spock raised an eyebrow, sincerely curious. "You trust them to work on bioweapons?"

"The weapons will not work on Vulcanoid species. These are meant for Klingons. And our 'cousins' also make good test subjects when we do work on something affecting our own species, whether that be weapons against the Romulans or research for us. Of course, we do not allow them access to the research."

"As you can see in this lab, this particular agent worked exceptionally well and will do so on all species who breathe oxygen. The weapon steals it from the air. Currently, the depletion takes five minutes. We project we can reduce that to mere seconds."

In the indicated room, Romulans were being pulled from glass casings; in with each body was a box with brightly colored lights shining through its clear walls. The bodies were blotched, faces distorted, and hands twisted into claws that must have beat at the door trying to get out while the person suffocated.

Spock looked at these sad corpses, Stron and Soluk just as silent at his shoulders, and noticed that in death, Romulans and Vulcans were the same. Except these people had POW tattoos.

Like Saavik.

The Fires pounded against his control and he knew he had to get out of here. Now.

Struggling to keep his voice even, Spock bluntly told the commandant, "You have twenty-four hours to get your people aboard the Enterprise."

Sumic's head snapped around. "Twenty-four hours? It is not enough. You see the size of my facility."

"Coordinate with Commander Chekov and find a way. You have no more time than I have just given you."

Disgusted, he left for the surface. The paths leading back were steep and took him past the people who would be dead the next day. The prisoners looked back, their faces an open book: hatred, loathing, a desire to kill him and make him suffer as they suffered. They had no more compassion for the Vulcans than Sumic had for them. Had he been so callous about life before planning to overthrow the Empire?

And yet, what could he do to save them? Remove them from the planet, and not only Kirk but also Starfleet Command and the Empress would be on top of him. All he was building to bring down the Empire that created such worlds as these would be wiped out. His logic calculated the numbers on both sides of the equation and the Romulans lost. In order to save himself so he may save countless others by replacing the Empire, these prisoners had to die.

It still ate at him.

At the mouth of the mountain entrance to these caverns, prisoners returning to the barracks were lined up and checked by the guards. Some of the prisoners carried equipment assigned for their tasks and returned them to the camp personnel at the head of the line. Here were the few humans assigned here, sprinkled through the Vulcans primarily responsible for running Thieurrull.

The dust that seemed to get everywhere blew into the entrance, the wind whistling with it. Spock's clear inner eyelids closed protectively, but his exposed skin stung when struck by the hard grains. He felt it coating his hair and body and remembered why he had abhorred this place the first time he visited it.

Despite the biting dust, Saavik stood at the entrance, silhouetted against the bright light of the day outside. The Fires within him leapt at the sight of her. The wind blew her hair into wild disarray and she held herself unbowed against the stares aimed at her.

She was a culmination of everything he respected in others, even those he fought against: Kirk's bravery and powerful desire to go out into space without the man's ambition; McCoy's tendency to prod him over things he was unwilling to face; Sarek's unyielding logic tempered by Amanda's heart. And she walked the same tightrope he did, existing in the twilight between Vulcan and not being Vulcan. When linked to her mind, he met a matching storm of logic and emotion and was given the same acceptance that they be no more of one race or the other. That was so unlike human women who said they knew who he was and wanted him for it, then immediately said they knew he wasn't in control of his emotions and would show them so in private. Or unlike the Vulcan women who said they respected his increased emotional drive but then said they expected his logic would always win out. Saavik knew if he changed to be anymore Vulcan or human, he would not be Spock.

If only....

Like a statue, she observed the prisoners as they filed past. T'Mes seemed to be trying to pull her away, but the only time Saavik moved was to turn her head to see the Romulans already inside the dormitory enclosure. Finally, T'Mes took off her field jacket, the green colored undertunic denoting sciences protecting her. She carefully laid the jacket over Saavik's shoulders.

Behind him, Stron made a strangled noise. Spock understood the man's thoughts. "Do not concern yourself, Mr. Stron. I will make sure Kirk does not find out about the uniform violation."

As they grew closer, Spock heard snatches of T'Mes' words through the wind. "...not necessary... leave for the..."

The Romulans continued to stare at Saavik, and now their whispers became shouts at her. "Traitor... Half breed... demon's spawn..." The Vulcan guards did nothing to protect her and T'Mes only had basic defense training. Spock, Stron, and Soluk picked up their pace.

Saavik finally acknowledged T'Mes speaking to her by replying. He was finally close enough that he could hear her. The skin on her uncovered chest was flecked green where the dust scraped it. Her eyes were hollow. "You do not understand. I recognize none of them."

T'Mes clearly didn't understand. Neither did he.

Saavik looked again at the prisoners. "None of them. Everyone I knew is dead."

T'Mes earned Spock's everlasting gratitude for the comfort she gave again. "You are not one of them."

"No, I am not." Saavik's voice was empty. "Nor am I one of you."

Spock swallowed hard. He was only a few steps away and detected the pain behind her expression. A rush of protectiveness aroused him.

And Soluk stepped in front of him. Unbonded Soluk was in the way of his reaching Saavik. The plak tow seeped through the breaks in his control: Kill him! He challenges you!

But logic reminded him: Saavik was not his. Never did she indicate she would go through the Fires with him. He could not accept challenges on her behalf.

If only...

Some whisper went through the prisoners, a man's voice. Spock didn't catch the words, but clearly Saavik had. The electrified change in her warned him. He searched the line of prisoners all the way to outside the entrance. A man stood there. He couldn't be the one who had whispered, but something about him arrested Spock's attention. He took a step or two, trying to see the Romulan's features, and suddenly identified him. Commander Alaka'i. I heard he was captured, but who put him here so foolishly close to the border?

Saavik's eyes were darting up and down the prisoner line. She hissed between clenched teeth, "Soluk, Stron, stay alert. Move outside, get the captain out of here. T'Mes, once we're clear of the mountain, contact Enterprise. We want an immediate beam out."

They started out, the male guards leading the way, Spock directly afterwards, T'Mes following him, and Saavik last, facing the rear so she could watch behind them. Spock kept his eyes on Alaka'i. He never saw the woman in the line reach the mouth of the entrance carrying a container. She opened it and threw its contents at the guards. The liquid flew in an arc, spattering human and Vulcan sentries alike. Saavik flung herself in between the danger and Spock and T'Mes. The last of the liquid splattered her.

The guards at the entrance opened fire, blowing the woman prisoner into burned ash. In those few seconds, Spock hurried to Saavik. She was blinking the liquid from her eyes and rubbed at her nose where she had inhaled some of it. Fearing acid or poison, the couple of seconds before she shrugged, confused, were an eternity. But nothing happened.

Until Alaka'i called out, "Glory!"

The Romulans rushed the guards, beating at them with whatever tools they had in their hands. Those that had nothing used fingers, teeth, and kicks. They yelled out to each other, calls of "Honor! Glory! Vengeance!" Their driven voices, roaring at full volume and passion, turned the words into something that made the hair on Spock's neck stand on end and he recalled his father's stories of ancient House wars.

The guards were initially overwhelmed, taken by surprise. The alarm went off, calling additional troops, but the Romulans were at the fence for the dormitories, smashing and burning the locks setting their own reinforcements free.

T'Mes was calling above the chaos into her communicator. "Enterprise, respond! Emergency beam out!"

Saavik ordered, "Guard bunker behind us -- get Captain Spock there! Secure it until we can transport out!"

The open area exposed them. They each picked up a body and used it as a shield. T'Mes struggled to hold the corpse and her communicator in one hand while keeping her phaser firing in the other. She yelled, "Repeat, Enterprise! We cannot hear you!"

Chekov's voice finally got through. "Ve're under attack! Romulan varbird just decloaked! Our shields are up, ve can't beam you up!"

Spock exchanged glances with his party. Warbird! Had Kirk given his ultimatum too soon? Did the Romulans warp here before Armageddon could be launched?

And would Chekov stay loyal or seize the Enterprise captaincy by letting Spock die on Thieurrull? To justify Spock's death, Chekov needed to hide behind something like the Romulan attack.

Didn't matter at the moment. They were in the middle of a war zone.

Romulans surged up ahead of them and Saavik commanded Stron to switch with her so he stood with his wife. "Clear the lane, Soluk. We have to get through. Captain, if Soluk and I fall, shoot anyone -- anyone -- that stands in your way. Hole up in that bunker until Enterprise can transport you out."

He protested, wanting to protect her, but she and Soluk were firing, triggers pulled down on the phasers and kept down until the weapons screamed with the abuse. They picked up more from the dead and fired again. Cursing, he joined T'Mes in keeping their sides clear, the plak tow pulsating in his veins. Kill! Kill!

Screams from the dying added to the din and overpowered the chirp of his communicator. It wasn't until they reached the bunker, Soluk slamming his phaser down on the head of a panicked soldier trying to bar the door against them, that he heard it.

He answered to Chekov's shouts. "Ve've moved around the planet to recoup! Hold on, Keptin!"

"You state the obvious, Commander. How long before you return?"

Saavik called over her shoulder from the station where she worked with T'Mes. "The sensors here are not strong enough to go beyond the atmosphere. They are meant to only monitor the camp."

"Ve vere caught with our shields down," Chekov reported. "Damage to the port nacelle and a hull breach on Deck 12. Ve've lost 38 people."

Spock's control was gone, the plak tow made thirsty by the battle. His first officer was avoiding his question. Was the man covering up his plan not to come? "How long before you return!"

"Estimate ten minutes! Scotty vill reinforce the-- Vait! Keptin, vhat's happening on the surface?"

Stron activated the security screens while Spock spoke with the ship. "Explain yourself, Mr. Chekov!"

"The varbird dropped shields as soon as the planet vas between us! Are they sending down troops?"

"Captain!" Saavik called.

Groups of Romulans were disappearing before their eyes, Alaka'i one of the first. "They're beaming their people out," she said in disbelief.

Spock repeated this to Chekov. "Hang on, Keptin," his first officer said, and Spock raised an eyebrow at the man's determination. It sounded legitimate. "Ve're getting you out."

Outside, prison security continued killing what Romulans they could, but they were paying for it with their own deaths.

He ordered his people, "Contact Commander Sumic. Tell him to get his people to the transporters. Ignore the prisoners or he'll end up dying here."

Soluk handled this duty while the battle raged on outside. The utter Romulan resolve to escape or die trying -- the Vulcans trying encircle and contain the riot -- he and Saavik in the eye of the storm seeking a way out exactly as they had decades ago.

She was plainly thinking of the same thing. She called across the bunker to him. "If Enterprise cannot transport you out soon or if Chekov turns against us, we will need to find a better haven than this."

"I cannot worry over what I cannot control. As for a haven, the route you used years ago to rescue me must surely be closed by now."

She agreed. "But there will be others plus safeholes the prisoners dug for themselves. I can estimate where one will be, but I prefer not having to take you out in the fighting."

She viewed it for a moment. The death count grew alarmingly fast, the ground growing slick with green blood shot every once in awhile with a streak of red from a dying human. She got a gleam in her eye. "Spock, how well can you play dead?"

He frowned. "I do not understand."

She gestured to one of the security screens. "Hide amongst the dead, wait until the worst of the battle passes us, then move out. If we are fortunate, they will pile the bodies soon and we can cover ourselves at the bottom. That's if the ship does not respond."

On cue, thuds sounded on the reinforced door growing louder as the Romulans switched from fists to tools. Then silence followed by the whine of a phaser rifle. They were cutting in.

Suddenly one of the security screens pulled Spock's focus from the door. Another group of Romulans beamed out, but this time not just with themselves. Clasping the unconscious bodies of a few camp guards, they took their prisoners with them. As they faded from site, Spock noticed the damp tunics on the guards.

The people who were splashed with that container. Like--

He rushed to Saavik, pulling off T'Mes' jacket and wiping the liquid off her. She shoved him away. "No! It will contaminate you!"

"It may not be a contaminant but an identifier. They are taking the other people covered with it. It may act as a beacon to the transporter crew!"

"Even more reason for you not to get it on you. We cannot risk you falling into Romulan hands." But she took the jacket and scrubbed at the rest of her, then threw the coat to the floor and disintegrated it with her phaser. "If it was an identifier, that should lessen it."

Spock's communicator signaled again. "Keptin, standby!"

The Vulcans were too controlled to show relief, but it crossed all their minds. In half a minute, they felt the transporter take them. One of McCoy's nurses was waiting for them, and Spock commanded him to scan Saavik first. Over the hum of the nurse's Feinberger device, Spock demanded a report from the transporter chief.

"Commander Chekov's apologizes for not meeting you here. He's waiting for you on the battle bridge."

Spock was almost out the door when the words stopped him. "Battle bridge?"

"The ship is separated. The saucer section is in the path of the Warbird, shields up, while we transported you here."

He only nodded, but he was impressed with Chekov's ingenuity. He pulled out his communicator and contacted his first officer. "Excellent work, Mr. Chekov. Now reverse it. Put us between the Warbird and the saucer. They will transport up the camp personnel."

"Sir, ve have a second varbird out there. I'm raising shields and vill carry out your orders, but it's going to take time to sort through the readings to find Wulcans instead of Romulans."

Saavik stepped down off the transporter platform. "I am on my way."

Spock exchanged a glance with the nurse. He shook his head. "I don't see anything, Captain, but she should go to Sickbay when this is over. You all should."

Spock signaled her to follow him while he continue his orders to Chekov; Stron and Soluk immediately shadowed them as T'Mes headed for her station. "Forget sorting through the readings, Commander. Have security teams waiting and take all Romulans immediately to the brig." They'll probably wish I killed them, just as the Halkans did.

The ship shook under a direct hit and he broke into a run, Saavik and the others easily keeping up with him. Another shake while they were in the turbolift, but this one was slighter. The shot must have been a near miss or glancing blow.

His estimation of Chekov rose again when he reached the battle bridge and found it organized and in control of the situation. How far the man had come from the young ensign who so hotly and usually disastrously planned assassinations for his superior officers.

The Russian rose smoothly from the captain's chair and crossed to the helm. "The second varbird continues to fire. Ve are limited by protecting the saucer and the damaged nacelle. The hull breach is sealed."

"How is the transporting commencing?"

"More quickly vithout sorting lifesigns from Hellguard, but not as quickly as you vould like. The Romulans fight the second they are on board. Ve have the same problem here with the people we grabbed. Our security teams are taxed."

"Tell the saucer section to stun everyone as they come on board. Sort the Vulcans out afterwards." He stepped down next to the helm and dropped his voice. "Mr. Chekov, I believe all the personal guard serve better supporting the Security efforts."

The Russian first officer was clearly startled. No senior officer ever went about without guards. Spock saw him look back to Saavik, Spock's Chief, at the science station obviously wondering if she would remain when his guards were gone. Spock took a breath, ready to order her below with the others. An illogical move since her presence amongst the warring Vulcan prison security and Romulan prisoners was like a match to a powder keg. But if Chekov needed it as a display of peace --

"All personal guard except Mr. Saavik, Keptin." The Russian licked his lips, but steadily looked up at Spock. "We need her at her bridge post. Mr. Nicolai!" he called. "Take your men to the transporter stations."

Chekov's Chief Guard warily looked between Spock, Saavik, and his leader. He didn't like it.

Before his first officer reprimanded his guard, Spock ordered, "Mr. Stron and Mr. Soluk, take our people as well. Lieutenant Saavik, disarm."

He didn't turn around to see her reaction, but swiftly removed his dagger and phaser and placed them at Chekov's feet. In a second, Saavik's joined his and the clip of Imperial pins always on her hip dropped on top of the pile. They weren't weapons, but symbolic of the fact she wasn't hunting for any more.

Chekov didn't speak, but in a moment got to his feet and held out a hand. Spock was reluctant to take it. A Vulcan limited who they touched and with the plak tow... but to not take it was worse. He clasped the man's strong grip and hoped his first officer didn't notice the increased heat of his skin.

"Permission to speak freely, Keptin. If you are villing and vill swear to it, I am villing to swear my loyalty to you and stay with you on Enterprise as first officer."

"I swear," Spock answered. "Your service honors me."

He dropped the hand and put aside the combative urgings another male caused in the Fires. He swung back to the Warbirds on the viewscreen; Enterprise continued to barrage them with its phasers. The nearest Romulan ship rocked under the direct hits, but it protected its sister as it continued beaming up people. So did his ship.

"Get me their commander," he said.

"Sir, they have refused all contacts," his communication officer, a dark human man named Mihai Perez, said.

"Try again."

Perez signaled when the channel was open. "This is Captain Spock of the ISS Enterprise. Leave this world or I will be forced to destroy you with it."

Everyone on the battle bridge turned their heads in his direction, including Saavik. In the next second, she understood and swung back to her station. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the Armageddon torpedo specifications appear on one of her screens.

No one answered from the Romulan ships. On the main viewscreen, nothing changed until, as he opened his mouth to call to them again, a telltale shimmer signaled the arrival of a third Warbird decloaking. It sailed to their port flank. Then another shimmer and a fourth ship hemmed them in on the starboard side.

They immediately took hits and, worse, so did the saucer section. "Commander Chekov, the transporting?"

"Ve have two-thirds of Commander Sumic's people. The saucer section is asking to raise shields."

If they didn't, they were dead. He couldn't sacrifice those people for the ones on the surface. "Acknowledge that order. Mr. Perez, once more. This is Captain Spock of the ISS Enterprise. Leave this world or I will be forced to destroy you with it."

Nothing but their phaser fire and the Romulans' until laughter -- loud, sarcastic laughter -- came through the open channel.

"You have guts, I'll give you that." The viewscreen image changed to a woman of classic Romulan beauty, her hair in warrior braids, the jade tinge to her skin darker than his. "I thought all the backbone left Vulcan when we did."

"I appreciate the compliment, but I speak the truth. The Armageddon torpedo does work. Leave this world."

"I'd love to see you try. It might be worth it. But all I see is you getting your ship shot up."

She never heard of the torpedo! Kirk did not warn them too early. They came for Alaka'i and anyone they could get with him. "Are you interested in a prisoner exchange? We have a number of your people."

Her smile turned into a serious contemplation. "What are you up to? Never mind. Our people are warriors; they will die bravely, better than if they stayed on that hellhole of a world."

Enterprise shook with hits from all sides. A glance at the science station and readings from the planet appeared on a split screen with the Romulan commander. A third of the people still on the planet and how many of the prisoners?

If he wasn't able to transport people from Thieurrull, he wasn't about to let the Romulans do so, especially when they were taking his people as well as their own.

He motioned Lieutenant Perez to cut vocal access on the comm channel. "Mr. Chekov, who is in charge on the saucer's bridge?"

"Lieutenant Commander Copin, sir."

"Get her. Tell her she is entering the battle. Mr. Fathiyya, I will need a proton torpedo spread soon. You will fire all tubes. Start your target locks now. You will be striking the three Warbirds that have their shields up."

"The ones with--"

"You will be protecting the saucer section. Commander Chekov, I need you to --" He leaned over his first officer's shoulder whispering his instructions. The Russian smiled, his lips pulled back in feral pleasure.

On screen, the Romulan Commander showed her confusion. Spock knew she wondered what sort of captain allowed the enemy to see him prepare for a counterstrike. He disregarded it. Seeing told her nothing and he enjoyed attacking right under her nose.

He checked the emotion. The plak tow punctuated everything he did.

He sat back in the captain's chair and re-established audio. "Commander, one last warning."

She said respectfully, "You almost make me change my opinions of Vulcans. But you are still outgunned. You leave this world. We're reclaiming it today."

"I cannot allow that. Mr. Chekov, begin."

The saucer section slammed into full impulse, leaping away. As it arced past, Chekov latched on it with a tractor beam, stealing what power he could from other systems, and slingshot the saucer even faster at the Romulan ships. It spun on its axis, flipping horizontally so it sliced in between the sister ships and fired on the one beaming people from the surface. With its shields down, it was easy prey.

The instant the tractor beam released the saucer, Spock ordered, "Now, Mr. Fathiyya. Full barrage."

Before the Romulans struck the attacking saucer section, torpedoes buffeted their other three ships.

Their commander was left staring in shock in front of Enterprise's command crew. She said nothing but a light of respect shone as she saluted them.

The comm channel was cut and Spock ordered Chekov to start evasive maneuvers. The warp section dropped like a stone out of the phaser volley from the three ships. The saucer section kept its prey between it and the others.

Mihai Perez spoke suddenly, "Captain, Commandant Sumic wants to talk to you. He says it's vital."

Spock pressed a control on the arm of his chair. "Yes, Commander?"

"Immediately before we transported out, the prisoners activated the weapons I showed you. The ones for oxygen depletion."

He shot over to the science station. "Check the mountain. Can you see--"

Over the open comm, Sumic raised his voice. "It will not be confined to the mountain. The whole planet will be affected."

Throat tight, Spock told Saavik to check the atmosphere. Not sure what he was looking for, she did what he asked. In a second, she had the answer. "Oxygen levels in the atmosphere are dropping, Captain."

Five minutes and Thieurrull's oxygen would be gone. He couldn't beam up any more personnel because he couldn't lower his shields.

He wanted to close his eyes. He wanted the days back when he didn't care about saving lives from the Empire. When he---

-- ordered whole populations destroyed without any reservation. No, he did not want to return to those days after all.

He showed none of this except to Saavik when she looked up at him. His back protected them from view of the rest of the bridge.

And for her, the Romulans and Vulcans on the planet below-- none of them would care about her if their places were switched. What were her thoughts for them?

An angry flame heated her eyes and cheeks. She nodded to him. "Your orders, Captain?" She caressed the controls behind her without twisting around.

Blood thirst sprang up again and the plak tow's fervor almost pushed his benevolent agony away. If she hadn't spoke again, saying what she could with the bridge listening, he might have lost himself. "Admiral Kirk will be prepared."

He understood. She wanted no murders, no more than he, but they had no choice. It was Thieurrull or them. If nothing else, his commitment to bring down the Empire was renewed.

Face calm and composed, he turned back to his bridge. "Helm, began our retreat, top speed, and give the saucer section rendezvous coordinates. Prepare the Armageddon torpedo, Mr. Saavik. Mr. Perez, one last time. Get me the Romulan ship."

Their commander was less friendly now, but he didn't care. "One last warning for an honorable enemy. This planet is about to be destroyed. Its eradication will pull your ships in if you do not clear the area." No reply, just a cold stare. "Mr. Saavik, fire the torpedo."

Now he heard the Romulan's reaction, but not the one he expected. "What's her name?!"

Saavik confirmed her orders and then did something Spock had never seen her do before. Her expression conflicted, she held out her left forearm so her tattoo was plainly visible to the viewscreen. In Romulan, she spoke, "He's telling you the truth. Take the chance he gives you."

The Romulan commander knew enough about the Imperial POW numbering system to understand that part of Saavik's tattoo marked her as a hybrid. A half-Romulan Starfleet officer -- the Commander looked like she'd rather believe a human than Saavik.

But Spock had given enough warnings. He told Mihai Perez to cut the comm channel again and the Armageddon Torpedo struck Thieurrull. As its wave spread out from the point of impact, the Romulan ships warped away.

Spock hoped those below on the planet died a quick death.

. . . .

Unbelievable. Saavik gazed at the horizon of the reformed Thieurrull. It was not the same planet. Nothing about this glowing, healthy world bore evidence that the prison where she once scratched out a survival ever existed. This planet flourished with different climate zones: a desert, a rainforest, an arctic area, and a temperate woodland all formed in less than a day with no signs so far of instability. The planet was so reformed, the deaths that so recently happened seemed on another world.

She glanced up at the sun and wondered if it would allow the different climates to continue existing. That was if Thieurrull didn't prove unstable.

Her science team was spread around the planet, prefabricated housing used as stations for sheltering her people and providing them with the most modern equipment to get the readings she wanted. Naturally, she and T'Mes were in the desert section, sharing housing with Stron and other members of Spock's personal guard.

She quelled the uneasiness burrowing inside her as she looked down in the small valley where they built Spock's housing. Easily protected and still private, Spock was there now...

... Alone.

Damn him! Does he want to die?

She heard T'Mes' footfalls in the sand and went back to taking tricorder readings, but couldn't see them through her growing anxiety. Her mind spun around about what to do and only came up with one answer. She blurted this out before T'Mes could say anything. "Stron has to go down to him and get an answer!"

Through the other woman's serenity, she saw the finality against that approach. "It is too late for that. The plak tow is in its last stages. Spock would kill another male."

She respected T'Mes' opinion. The woman was older than her with a husband and grown children. Saavik only outranked the other Vulcan because T'Mes only recently followed Stron into Starfleet and like him, was satisfied to take a crewman's rank rather than attend the Academy to become an officer. She appreciated the woman spoke of pon farr at all.

The house now seemed isolated and solitary in its valley cradle -- just like its inhabitant. She stared at it, unblinking, until her eyes burned.

"Perhaps this is his choice," T'Mes said. "If so, we must respect it."

Saavik's chin came up. "The hell I do. Take control here."

T'Mes grabbed her arm, not letting her pass. "Where is your logic? You know you cannot go down there."

"I know I cannot let him die. Let him snap my neck as soon as I enter the house and beat my body against its walls. If it saves his life, so be it!"

She wrenched her arm in T'Mes' grasp, but the other woman would not let go. Saavik shoved at her, striking with her free arm, but the woman's nails were dug in and she held on. Finally, almost faster than the eye could follow, Saavik drew her dagger and laid its blade against T'Mes' throat. Her voice deepened with a harsh threat. "With you alive or dead, I am going down there. Release me."

For a moment, she thought T'Mes refused, but her hand finally gave way. Saavik spun her back to the other Vulcan and slid down the dune towards Spock.

Outside the door, she caught the sound of him playing his lytherette dimly through the walls. Surprised, she wondered how he managed to play with the plak tow so at fore. In the next second, she had her answer as Spock's voice cursed and was followed by a crash and then a cacophony as the Vulcan harp's strings grated.

She hit the door signal and waited. Nothing. With unsteady fingers, she entered her security bypass and walked in.

The sealed windows dimmed the room, but enough light remained. Dust motes floated visibly in what shafts of brightness there were. The platform with Spock's bed was empty. She kept her eyes away from it.

She found him near the field encased computers, huddled with his head buried in his hands, his body trembling with the forces tearing it apart inside. The lytherette lay upside down near one console, thrown there, its strings having been struck as it fell. Odd to hear his voice through the open comm as Stron used the database of Spock's voice to answer queries from the science team and the ship. Even more eerie to hear her voice a moment later as T'Mes used another database to respond as Saavik.

The sight of him so desolate struck her dumb of the words she originally planned to say. She only managed his name. "Spock?"

Some remaining hold on himself forced out a voice that was mostly air. "...Get ...out."

"No."

His shoulders hitched at her refusal, but she didn't know what it meant. Slowly, she drew closer, approaching him as if he were a le-matya ready to strike. When he made no move, she knelt quietly by his chair.

They said nothing and finally her anxiety snapped her remaining restraint. "Tell me who you want and I'll bring her to you."

His back heaved and she realized he sobbed. Frantically, she looked wildly about the room as if she'd find an answer there. She saw the lirpa he brought with him. "Combat? Is that how you want to do this? Name someone and I'll bring him!" No reply. "Kirk? Do you want to wait for him? Or Sulu? We can do that, but their ships won't be here for days and I..."

His silence strangled the rest of her words. Her breaths were heaving as if she sobbed with him. "Not combat? Spock? ... is this woman on Reliant or Excelsior?" She thought desperately and crossed a line she had set for herself. "One of the prisoners?"

She hadn't wanted to think about bringing one of the Romulans to him. It was too close to what happened to her own mother, but at this point, she was desperate.

Nothing. Blindly, she grabbed his wrist. "Spock, you must choose!"

His hand shot out, grabbing her at the back of the neck and forcing her to look into his eyes tinged with insanity. His voice was almost unrecognizable. "You would bring another woman to me?"

The image of it made her swallow against the pain. "For you, I would do anything. You need only ask."

He stared down at her. Something darted behind his eyes, something that wanted release. Achingly slow, he reached down with his free hand, taking hers. He barely touched her, his fingertips shaking so much they tapped against her skin. The Fires tore out his words. "And if I asked... you... if I chose... you... what would be your answer?"

The plak tow beat against her mental shields even through the slight touch of his hand. Its blow struck her less than his words. Never, never did she think Spock would choose her. She thought he didn't want her or, if he did, he left her alone for the same reasons Stron had meant.

Her heart and her instincts, a mixture of Romulan and ancient Vulcan, thrummed with response. Her mouth parted with a raw breath and she leaned minutely towards him. But her disciplined mind whispered Stron's warning: You understand the repercussions...

Yes, she did. T'Mes tore into her arm because of them. But even her logic knew she was Spock's.

"My answer is... I come to you."

He sobbed again and his eyes filled with disbelief. He closed them as if they lied to him, as if she wasn't here. He opened them again to raise her hand that he still held, and he let go of her neck with his other. With his first two fingers, he stroked her fingers down to her wrist and back again, slowly, softly. He continued it, establishing the first mental link, easing her mind for the onslaught to come. The heat of passion lightninged up from the psi centers in her hand up her arm and infused her body with his desires.

She lowered her mental shields willingly against the plak tow and her surrender ignited him. She sat up higher on her knees, meeting his grasp for her while her fingers now stroked his, increasing the mental connection. The Fires caused an answering physical response, rapidly generating her own passion, so his roughness didn't hurt her. They groaned together as their minds swept up in a tangle, their hands intertwining, and their bodies pressing against each other, mouth to hips.

He slipped one hand down her back under her skirt, shoving her hard against him as his other hand tore at her uniform. She arched against him and buried her hands in his hair, pulling him down to her.

Outside, T'Mes approached her husband as he stood at the top of one dune.

"She's gone to him." He didn't ask, he made a statement.

She nodded. He closed his eyes.

"Was it not inevitable, my husband?"

He said nothing but started to move away.

"Stron--"

"We have our duty."

"You respect her. You have told me so. Can we not--"

He held out his two fingers to her and dropped them after brushing hers. "We have our duty."