"How are they responding?" Rel asked Kalias, prospectively enjoying the global admiration that was sure to come his way now all the worlds in the United Federation of Planets knew that the Federation and Vulcan were pretentious weaklings, who let atrocities happen to their own citizens without responding.

Kalias stammered, nervously shuffling his feet, his antennae in a position of acute embarrassment.

"What?!" Rel snapped.

"Leader, I can't explain it. They are turning against us." Kalias had his eyes fixed on something in the distance, avoiding looking at Rel.

Rel stared speechlessly at him, then roughly pushed him out of the way, checking the lines of Andorian script rapidly scrolling upward as message after message filled the commscreen, each condemning the Followers, condemning him. His head was swimming. This was not how it was supposed to happen. Once the Followers of the Fist of Ice had released everyone but the Vulcans, the other species were supposed to realize the dispute did not involve them and stay uninvolved. Why had they broken their initial silence? And why now?

"Did they say why?" he asked, shocked.

"It was the child." Kalias replied. "It looks like they're feeling sorry for the whelp and the bitch that begat him."

Rel brow darkened with anger. It was a sign of how joining the UFP weakened its members that they would feel sorry just because he was a child. Why did it matter? The young would grow into an adult eventually, couldn't they see that.

"Is there nobody on our side?" he asked Kalias, disbelievingly.

Kalias shook his head "We haven't gotten any communications, but then again the Federation must be blocking those who would join us. It doesn't mean they don't want to be with us. Just that they can't." He wasn't sure if he was saying that because he believed it or because he was worried of how Rel might react.

Rel didn't reply, clenching and unclenching his fists. How couldn't they see what they were trying to achieve? The beauty and brilliance of his plans, how he was going to bring pride and purity back to Andoria. Even the Empress would end up recognizing the value of what the Followers had achieved. She would come to thank him, perhaps make him a junior consort.

xx

"So that's it?"

Trip had expected she would at least pack. The fact she didn't pack, was not taking anything with her, made him nervous. She had been recalled by Vulcan as a V'Shar operative. She was going to step onto a Vulcan shuttle and be whisked away to one of the starships that was orbiting the planet along with them. Why hadn't she packed, at least a change of underwear? It was not like she was going to go there for a couple of hours, check the new digs, and come back.

T'Pol turned to him, feeling his quandary "This is a Starfleet uniform. Once I am on the Vulcan ship, there will be different clothes for me to wear."

"All black?" Trip bit his lip. That one had escaped him without really thinking about it. For some reason, whenever he heard about V'Shar, he thought about Asian ninjas. He had never really been able to separate the two.

Acting very out-of-character, T'Pol reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "I do not know why V'Shar has summoned me and why they want me to become active again. But I do know I fully intend to be back."

Trip sighed, looked away. She had just brought up what he had unconsciously been avoiding, the possibility she would not come back from the mission. He didn't expect Vulcan was recalling its sleeper agents for a walk in the park. He grabbed her hand, looked at her with eyes that were moisting over, made as if to speak, but couldn't. T'Pol took a step closer to him, almost touching him, and he inclined his head to her until their foreheads were touching. They stayed in that position for several long minutes. Then T'Pol straightened up, putting a hand on his chest to lessen the impact of what she was going to say.

"I do not know what the plans are and as a V'Shar operative, it will be impossible for me to communicate with you or anyone else. Additionally, I do expect a modicum of risk to be involved. It is necessary for me to block the bond."

Seeing Trip's stricken look, she added "It is for both our sakes. There may be things you cannot be privy to or wouldn't want to be privy to." Including, unvoiced, the fact that she didn't him to be in a mental relationship with her when she died, and suffer the manner of her death. Trip could only nod, rendered mute by the emotions flooding him, the anxiety of feeling alone without the calming presence of the bond. He had gotten so used to her presence. But he understood why she had to do it.

And he knew, with crystal clarity, that this was going to suck.

xx

Rel looked over at his core group of Followers. There was Oryl Ch'Utau, there was Kalias Th'Utau, and Pashat Sh'Thoor-Ukh, and Zemi Zh'Utau. Those were the ones he had hand-picked to be elegiazed in Andoria's future, in songs of valor that would vaunt their bravery and redeem their sacrifice.

Except that bravery and sacrifice were about to be overshadowed by effete sensibilities.

He had to play his hand carefully. He couldn't get his message across if it was drowned out by the bellyaching of weaklings. The Empress wouldn't like it if Andoria became associated with the ill-treatment of children, even Vulcan children. He could see that now. Using the child had been a mistake. But it was an honest mistake, he had only had the best of intentions. He would explain that to her and she would understand. He knew she would. And he would make sure it didn't happen again.

To show her his good faith and that he had learned and understood, as a gesture of penance, he had skipped the daily execution. There was no greater sacrifice he could lay at her feet.

"How many children among the hostages?" he asked the Followers around him. He didn't have to wait long for an answer. Pashat had inventoried the whole contingent of them. He was the one in charge of their survival and it wouldn't help the cause if the Vulcans started dying off before Rel could reach his objectives.

"Twenty-seven, Leader" Zemi replied. After her brilliant demonstration by the Vulcan compound, Rel had brought her into the inner sanctum. He frowned. That was twenty-seven hostages that were no longer of value to him. He couldn't risk having any more worlds be angry at him. That might push them further towards the Federation, quite opposite to what he had set to achieve.

He had to think. He was confident the answer would come to him, straight from the universe into his brain, like all the answers had so far. The deities favored him, they had selected him to be their spokesperson. And he was not going to fail them.

xx

T'Pol stepped off the shuttle, taking in at a glance the activity in the hangar. It was a mostly quiet, exquisitely controlled ballet of coming and going by operational groups preparing ammunition and equipment. The shuttle had seemed to dock with the Sahriv, Captain Soljark's ship, before deftly dipping under and around and docking instead with one of the other ships. Based on her interactions with Humans, there was a high probability the bridge crew did not closely follow the visual trajectory and did not realize she was not on the Sahriv. Though at some point Lieutenant Reed may very well be tempted to examine the sensor logs and would then become aware that her location had changed. It did not matter. To be on the Sahriv or not was a difference that made no difference to Sterth Vega III, the terrorists, and the mission.

The pilot left her waiting by the shuttle. There was no need to monitor her movements on board the ship, she was V'Shar and sworn to secrecy. All senses on alert, she did not miss the unobtrusive arrival of the shortish and older woman that seemed to magically appear in front of her.

"I am Captain T'Kullyl. I will show you to your quarters to change and meditate. Your clothes await you there. First debrief meeting at 2200 in the assembly room." They walked in silence all the way to her cabin. T'Pol wondering how a ship with close to twice as many people as Enterprise could be half as noisy. The ambient calm and serenity was restful, allowed her to relax her mental shields ever so incrementally. Over time such an environment would much reduce one's stress levels.

She was in the assembly room at 2158, clad in the unfamiliar garments. By the time it was 2200 T'Pol had counted there were a hundred and twenty-six V'Shar operatives present. More than she had ever seen for a single mission. They were all standing in small groups, apparently engrossed in conversation when in fact she knew that each one of them could have said exactly at what time she came in and which foot crossed the threshold first.

Captain T'Kullyl entered the room and made her way to a short dais at one end, speaking without a microphone and without waiting for the operatives to come to attention or anybody to even look at her. There was no need. Everyone in the room was using both their ambient and focused neural networks, imprinting her presence and her words even while engaged in conversation. Those who had recently been recalled, and the young Vulcan woman was the last one but not the only one, may have to strain initially to relearn ingrained habits, but like riding a bike, the knowledge would quickly come back, the quicker the more they used it.

It didn't take long to cover the main elements of the first briefing. There would be an action on the planet, details and timing had not been solidified, and the waiting time would be an endless merry-go-round of practicing old skills and getting acquainted with the new clothes on their backs. There would be ample periods for rest and meditation. T'Kullyl needed an army of experts and the last thing she wanted was a bunch of tired operatives.

xx

"Leader, leader" Kalias was running at him from down the corridor, breathless with excitement. "The Empress is calling."

Rel's antennae perked up on his head. After the fiasco with the Vulcan kid, damn him and all his generations, the Federation and Andoria had stopped any communication. Instead, they had been inundated with messages from other worlds telling them to cease and desist. Rel had started fearing that his plan was going awry. He hadn't planned on the wave of unpopularity that Thoor-Ukh had become subject to. He needed the Federation and Andoria to pay attention to him.

"Did she say anything?" Rel asked, turning around from where his steps had been headed, to select the next hostage. It didn't really matter if it didn't always happen exactly on the twenty-four hour mark. There was plenty of time.

Kalias shook his head. "She asked to speak to you."