Tale of the Last Clans: Chapter 12
The Vulcan traders made their way, still with their arms around one another, through the town square towards what Nekae called "the inn". After drawing the attention of a group of Klingon soldiers-since apparently public assemblages of more than three people were against Klingon colony regulations and the three of them sitting together was "challenging their authority"-they separated. Captain Kirk was on his way to find something combustible, and Spock was tasked with working with Nekae to create a distraction.
When they were seated on the bench, it seemed as though Spock's first idea for a distraction-to take advantage of the threat to his mate by losing control and starting an altercation with a group of Klingon soldiers-was feasible and perhaps even facile as well. Klingons knew well how territorial and out-of-character Vulcans could be when it came to their mates and children.
Now that he was mobile again he questioned his ability to enact such a plan. His mind was still affected by what the mindsifter had done to it, which included muscle control. And while he could probably walk unassisted, his current arrangement both furthered their ruse and was comfortable. The Nomad was as strong as a Vulcan, which meant she could carry him easily. The thought of working with someone who was actually as strong as he was felt like a novelty. And as he was engaged in watching and listening to the small crowd of Klingons following them, he had no qualms about relying on her in this way.
At least they were moving in the right direction. Spock's preliminary scouting, compared with the aftermath of Klingon touchdown on Organia, suggested several logical sites for Klingon weapons storage. All of them were on one side of the town, whereas the inn was on the other side. As an added plus, the inn was a location where they were likely to encounter Trefayne, Nekae's Organian contact. Demonstrating his commitment to keeping her safe should contribute to securing Organian support, which would raise their likelihood of escaping the planet alive considerably-to 15.761%.
As the approached the building, which was several levels tall and had a wooden sign suspended from wood posts by a rusty linked chain informing him that it was indeed an "Inn", Trefayne came out to great them.
"My Dear, perhaps this isn't the best place for you right now..." he began, only to have Nekae push past him, dragging Spock alongside her.
"Should we not be more polite?" Spock asked, quietly, still trying to keep his voice pleasant though even he heard the edge. She stopped then, abruptly enough that Spock almost took a wrong step.
"You want me to be polite to him?" Her habit of enunciating the parts of speech she felt most affronted by reminded him of their first meeting. He raised both eyebrows, playing innocent as his father often would with his mother.
"Why would I ever counsel you otherwise?" Narrowing her eyes, she moved them to a balcony seat, where they could be seen by Klingons both inside and outside the establishment.
"An excellent choice." Trefayne was at the table with them, and again Spock felt as though he had missed something. He attributed it to the mindsifter as his probabilities plummeted at Nekae's next words.
"You should go. No more than three people can gather in public at a time, and they really don't like even that many. Klingon rules, you know." Despite all of the danger she was flippant and, Spock noted, somewhat more relaxed.
"You are upset at being stranded." Trefayne bent his head as he said it, as if his body were apologizing too.
"No," Nekae spoke slowly, as if she were explaining something very complex in as simple a way possible, "I'm not. I was supposed to stay here for weeks. What sense would that make?"
"You said days," Spock said quietly. Her eyes cut to his.
"I lied. Nomads can do that."
"Are you judging me right now?"
"You are upset because of the accommodations." The Organian ignored their banter.
"No, actually it is all kind of quaint." This time her tone was dismissive. She turned her head, looking away from the elder and into Spock's shirt.
Circumstances could not continue in this way. The Organian was obviously trying to court her favor, and her dismissals were all making winning the council's favor less and less likely. Without it their chances dropped 4.893 percentage points.
"She does not seem to understand why you are not being clear about your planet and your nature with us," Spock offered helpfully. Then he felt a tap.
She had swatted his chest, actually hitting him with the back of her hand, though obviously not with the intention to hurt. He had witnessed his mother do this to his father on many occasions, and as an observer was often troubled by it. Now he took it as a message. He should remember to stay in character.
"I do understand why they're acting the way they're acting," she shot back, her voice almost petulant.
"Perhaps you are too close to the conflict," Trefayne mused, his tone a little lighter.
"Too close?" Nekae rose from his chest and leaned forward as she spoke, and Spock was glad he had yet to hear that tone from her. "I'm inside of it. Literally. At any moment any of these men could decide we are being too rebellious and drag me off to the mindsifter. And we are probably already there, since you've set such a low bar for rebellion!" Her voice was low, but there was an obvious anger in her words.
She had been subdued up to this point, almost Vulcan in her mannerisms, and he had been forced to interpret her smallest movements and gestures to understand her. Now she was getting more overt in her emotionalism, and that was drawing attention from the soldiers. He pushed himself forward in the chair, leaning into her posture and lowering his head.
"This is not the kind of attention we are seeking," he reminded her gently, hesitant to speak to her in this mood.
"You are assisting them now?" Trefayne seemed genuinely surprised.
"What choice do I have? These strangers-" her eyes cut to Spock again, then away-"possibly enemies, are the only beings on this planet willing to protect me in what is apparently a dangerous situation." He breathed out a tenth of a breath longer than his inhalation, calming as it now became clear that she truly grasped the danger of the situation in which they found themselves. The Organian's surprise turned to shock, and then to an emotion was unable to identify.
"You are not in any danger, of course." Trefayne's tone was low and reassuring, his brows knitted together.
"We'll see. Now go. I meant what I said before. We've already been driven away from one place and my bondmate is tired." Her tone was cold and light, and in that moment he was reminded of T'Pring.
He rolled his shoulder, working out an unanticipated enervation of nerves down his spine. There were other realities. In another reality, he could be here with T'Pring as his wife. Then the Nomad's curls tickled his nose again, and he was brought back to the present.
They were alone at the table. Spock felt as though he should have said goodbye. While his Captain might be frustrated with the Organians' lack of outrage at their occupation, Spock reminded himself that they were the ones truly accountable. Were the Federation able to negotiate with or defend from the Klingons, Organia never would have been invaded. There was no excuse for him to be rude.
"So?" she nudged him in the side, and he looked over and down at her. "We've got their attention. So what's the plan?" He nodded slowly, trying to mimic this situation if his parents were in it. His father would not be outwardly guarded, but inwardly he would be completely focused on his mother's safety. Spock used the corners of his vision to map out the room and the ground below the balcony. He positioned every Klingon, and noticed how careless they were. Some were paying attention to them, but most were engaged with one another, oblivious.
"The plan had been to take them on in combat, but I think I overestimated my recovered abilities." He confessed this to her, hoping she would have an alternative. She struggled then, pushing herself around in his embrace until they were chest-to-chest and her face looked up at his.
"Are you kidding me?" She questioned him, holding out for the possibility that he might be joking. He shook his head and she lowered hers, laughing a tired, pained set of laughs.
"Now, understand before I start this that-" she stared up at him and pointed her finger in his face, resting her wrist lightly on his chest-"I think this entire conversation is ridiculous. That said, are you serious?" His eyes widened at the tone he had just sought to avoid.
"You seem displeased."
"I am. My ancestors didn't adapt to life in space so that you could lie and fight. You are supposed to be in control of your emotions, and you are supposed to understand sacrifice. My people don't make those claims and for that, yours kicked them off our world."
Spock drew back, this line of accusation completely unexpected. She was accusing him of not being Vulcan enough. No, more than that. She was rising up and demanding that he adhere to the principles he had chosen for himself.
"The situation requires..."
"I'm sure when Surak faced off against those who marched beneath the Raptor's wings, the situation had similar requirements." He shut his mouth and bowed his head. She was correct. The ease with which he adopted lying and considered violence was wholly unacceptable.
He felt her twist around, as if looking over his shoulders. Then she shifted, pressing herself closer to him.
"I've upset you. Now they expect me to comfort you." Her voice was quiet, and for a moment he did not know what she would do. "Perhaps I should bru-hish-la'." He blinked, the word unexpected in this context.
"bru-hish-la': to engage in a ritualistic touching between mated pairs, both a public and private activity with different levels of involvement for each participant." Spock sounded like he was giving a definition he had just looked up a dictionary. Nekae snorted.
"Let me guess, you are too logical to bru-hish-la', but lying and brawling on occasion, as long as the cause is sufficient, is cool? Don't you realize that the only reason you avoid bru-hish-la' is that it has a tendency to end in lying and brawling?" His brows knit together.
"Wait, you don't even know what I'm talking about, do you?" He shook his head and she pressed her head into his shirt, hiding behind his collar. He looked down and could see the edge of a smile on the left side of her mouth. Then she looked up, catching his eye.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes."
She reached up, stretching her neck and pressing her lips to his. The touch was brief, and instantly he understood. Bru-hish-la' was to give a kiss. His eyebrows climbed.
"Don't look so shocked," she said, looking away and speaking softly, a green flush rising in her cheeks, "not now that we have the audience we want." He belatedly realized that they had the attention of all the Klingons now, both in the inn around them and outside on the ground.
But more than that, he learned something else. Her profound mindblindedness meant that touching her was a fascinating experience. It was of course arresting to have a female in such close quarters, mostly because only one woman had ever occupied that space, and never when he was supposed to be working. But with Nyota, and almost anyone else in his experience-and even some animals-touching of any kind was a conductor for him. Touch conducted emotions, intentions, thoughts and could be pleasant or unpleasant, and nearly every gradation in between. But with her, it was as if they were just fingers, or just lips. Nothing was conducted.
He bent his head low and raised his hand, hooking her chin. Turning her face back up to his, he bru-hish-la'. Now that he was prepared, he could demonstrate the skills he had acquired over years of kissing. When her face moved away, her eyes were unfocused, her lids heavy.
"Liar. And we just spoke on this topic. There's no way you didn't know what bru-hish-la' means." She licked her lips.
"I assure you that I did not. However, the fact that bru-hish-la' mirrors what humans call "kissing" is something I omitted."
"Omission is just another form of lying."
"Your standards for honesty are rather high."
"They aren't my standards."
He kissed her again, this time paying a sliver of attention to the Klingon conversation around him as he did so. The Klingons were shocked, though no one mentioned the fact that this scenario didn't fit with their image of Vulcans. To them, this was just a private behavior they were getting a chance to witness.
They took turns trading bru-hish-la' and then conversing in short bursts. On the street below, other Klingons were converging on the Inn, and from what he could hear, they were indeed the reason for the crowd. Reasons for their behavior ranged from a reaction to their nearness to certain death, something she did because he was ill from the torture, and something he did to calm her fears.
Just as she pulled away from him, her eyes heavy and her lips plumped and wet, a vibration hit him in the stomach. It was the forerunner to a shock wave, which confirmed that his Captain had found an appropriate target.
Nekae gasped, and her body shook, and instinct must have taken over because he pulled her into his arms and lap just as a powerful explosion detonated. Several more popped off after, all shorter and more violent, and her hands went up the cover her ears. His stayed on her shoulders, though as the sounds hit he was reminded of the mindsifter, blinding and deafening.
Klingons flooded out of the Inn and the streets seemed to drain to the West, towards the possible weapons sites. Nekae nudged out of his arms and scooted back, getting more space than either one of them had gotten in hours.
"They are coming for you. Run." Trefayne was back, standing next to their table.
"No. You want to teach us a lesson. Then let things unfold as they should." Her voice came out shaky as they both moved from their seats, and he wondered whether it was the explosions or something else.
Trefayne stepped back, standing in a shadow with light from a fire playing off him in the background. For a moment he seemed bigger. More powerful.
More sinister.
Below them was a crash-a table fell-and then there were boots on the stairs. He reached out for her, yanking her off the floor and behind him.
"Kroyahkai!" she hissed, and even though the ancient word had more syllables than the modern command, he was still stopped by it. She was surprisingly committed to him living as a follower of Surak. Belatedly he realized that he had full command over his body again, and he used this knowledge to pick her up, loop an arm under her knees, and hold her against him as he was shoved forward.
As he was maneuvered outside, two lines of Klingon soldiers formed up, running all the way up to two guards framing the door. He was expected to walk between them, and for a moment wondered if they thought he would bear her straight to the mindsifter. If so, he would have to disappoint her, since allowing her to be forced to endure the mindsifter was more than enough to justify violence on his part, regardless of her objections. Then, far ahead of them he saw Kirk, also captured.
He knew exactly where they were going next.
"No Klingons were killed, but they are using this to make an example anyway. As they marched me over, I saw soldiers walking Organians from their homes. Walking them, because even as they are walking to their deaths the Organians are still smiling, still passive. What will it take to move these people?"
"Unknown, Captain."
The Captain was pacing their cell, and his face and body language had been precursors to unwise decisions in over 95.561% of instances. Spock elected to keep him speaking, so as to remind him that there were additional individuals present, and hopefully prevent any rashness on Kirk's part.
The cell they were taken to was under the Council chambers, and in his initial explorations of the Organian settlement he had come across the oval, barred windows on the streets surrounding the main building. Now that they were inside the cell, those same bars were 16 feet above his head, and really more like ventilation than windows.
Nekae was sitting in one corner of their confined space. She had cast off the Vulcan robe and was now stretching her legs, bare to the upper thigh where her shorts began. She had not spoken since he bore her from the Inn, and he wondered whether her silence were a result of his decision in that regard. While Sarek and Amanda were a team, there were instances where the danger to her person-or of them getting separated-was high enough that Sarek would simply bear her away. Spock had calculated that this would be the correct action in their situation, as the Klingons could have easily separated them and taken her to the mindsifter, but perhaps she did not agree.
The iron grate opened with a loud squeal. The door to their cell just stood open then, as if waiting for them to walk through it. Nekae got up and strode towards the door, as if it were completely safe for her to walk out. But, with her face buried in his chest on the way in, perhaps she had not seen the rows of Klingon soldiers lining the path towards their cell.
Spock reached out to stop her, putting a hand on her arm, now covered by the sleeve of her jacket. She looked at him in what was clearly exasperation, but said nothing.
"There are soldiers outside. It is unlikely to assume they were just open the doors and let us leave. It is much more likely that the moment one of us walks out, they will be waiting there to condemn us for attempting to escape."
"That's on their list of crimes," Kirk added, and Spock was momentarily appreciative of her actions, as they distracted the human from his building emotionalism. The Nomad seemed surprised by their words. Her shoulders raised and she licked her lips, both signs Spock now recognized as coming before she said something at least interesting, if not fascinating.
"Tell me this, if you two had to prioritize, what would be most important: That the Organians were safe, or that the Klingons not get to use this as a base?"
"You still don't get it. There is no way for the Organians to be safe while the Klingons are here!" Kirk walked in her direction, more intent and determined than Spock would like, "At this point I thought at least you-"
"-Captain, perhaps this is unproductive."
"Do I even want to ask what are percentages are at this point?"
"Probably not, Captain." Nekae was shaking her head, waves of short curls flying all around her face.
"No, you two still don't get it. And I'm just visiting their world, so it isn't my place to explain it to you. Just know this: Sometime soon, you will need to choose. Know what your choice is going to be now, and why." She then turned and climbed the three stone steps at the door to their cell, walking out and then out of sight.
Spock stilled the urge to go after her. Kirk was right, it was likely a trap, but the last few hours of behaving like his father and making comparison-after-comparison to his parents made a part of him unsettled at the prospect of watching her walk into highly probable danger.
But after a few minutes, when they did not hear any sounds of struggle or even conversation, which the echoing stonework certainly would have carried their way, Kirk shot him a look and they both bolted for the door.
Two turns away from their cell led them straight to Ayelborne, an odd sight in this place though these cells were obviously Organian in design, and only being co-opted by the Klingons for this purpose.
"Come Captain, Mr. Spock," the Organian beckoned.
"But wait, where are the Klingon guards?" Kirk looked around as he spoke, perhaps expecting them at any moment as Spock did.
"They are gone," Ayleborne said simply, leading them upstairs. Soon they were in the Council chambers again, and the elders were seated as before, as if mass executions were not happening below them in the square.
"She is not with you." Trefayne spoke first.
"You caused the explosion." another Organian said, shooting Trefayne a look Spock did not quite understand.
"Of course we did. To show you that you don't have to be sheep, you can be wolves!" His Captain was losing control now, but Spock could hardly blame him. Even without the mindsifter, just being surrounded by Klingons had caused his own controls to be frayed. The elders stood and moved together, forming a smaller group around Trefayne, who stayed seated.
"So terrible, to cause such destruction," another elder said. Curious, Spock thought, this is what draws emotion out of them. Not occupation, not the mass executions of their people, but Kirk's actions against the Klingons.
"History is filled with examples of civil populations rising up and fighting back successfully against a military dictatorship. We may not be able to destroy the Klingons, but we can tie them up. We can blow up their installations, disrupt their communications, make Organia useless to them." While Captain Kirk was normally a restrained, even suave diplomat when the mission required it, he was more aggressive than would work with them. Spock stepped in, thinking to remind them of the danger.
"Our fleet will eventually arrive. In the meantime the battle is ours. It can be a successful one." Spock spoke directly to Ayleborne. Then, remembering what Nekae had said, added, "We can take actions that will eventually lead to safety for Organians. If the Klingons find holding this planet too difficult, their history strongly suggests that they will abandon it, and leave your world."
"Our fate concerns you." Trefayne spoke up again, in the same tone of voice he had used in the Inn, when he was trying to guess Nekae's motivations. Behind him, another Organian made a sound, one of disbelief.
"Do you really think we are going to believe that you care more about us than about stopping the Klingons from entering your space?" The question was laden with emotion, which was an extreme contrast from their earlier actions.
"We need to move," Spock interjected, head tilted towards the door. When the Captain moved toward it Spock shook his head, motioning for the window. As they climbed out and began to scale down the wall the door flew open and soldiers flooded into the Council Chambers.
They made their way down and over, meeting behind a covered eave on a part of the building roof 22 feet from the ground. They took shelter behind the bricked structure, watching the Klingons on the ground. Spock could still hear the conversation going on inside.
…once he's had firsthand experience with our mindsifter.
There's no need for that, Commander. I can tell you his name. It's Captain James T. Kirk.
A Starship Commander!
"It was a pleasure to serve with you, Jim." The Captain's head snapped around and he let off a series of rather creative expletives in Orion.
"We are not giving up yet. We will raise our percentages if we have to do it one Klingon at a time, with our bare hands. Am I clear?" Blue eyes pinned his own, holding his body still as his human friend worked diligently to persuade him."
"Of course, Captain."
Errand of Mercy Redux, Part 3
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