The Pon T'Keshtan
By Mary K. Hanson
Limited Copyright © 2010

This is the beta'ed version of this chapter. And I once again thank my fantastic beta FarStrider for doing such a great job of trimming the fat off my prose, and keeping the essence of it intact.


CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Sa'aat bulldozed through the stacks of crates, flinging the full force of his mind toward the stone tilt-door in the alcove's back wall as it started to close behind T'Pau. It exploded, hurling stony shrapnel into the passageway beyond, and her shrieks echoed in the alcove as pieces struck her. Sa'aat side-stepped the shattered door and rushed after her, with Kirk and the others just a few lengths behind him.

As they reached the buckled door, Doctor McCoy caught Kirk's sleeve, "Careful, Jim; interfere and he might rip you a new one."

"He's going to kill her, Bones," the captain answered.

"Considering what she's done—and I can't believe I'm saying this, but—would that necessarily be a bad thing?"

Fowler had no idea what the doctor was referring to, but Kirk's face was an agony of indecision. The captain clenched his jaw, determined, and tugged his sleeve away, continuing to run after Sa'aat. Engineer Scott cut past them, following Kirk, leaving McCoy in the doorway with Fowler and V'Rha'lahn.

"Okay, when are you people going to tell me what's going on?" Fowler demanded. "Was that really T'Pau? Why is she dressed like a man? Why does the Fik-Zhel-Lan want to kill her? What did she do?"

"Yes, Doctor," V'Rha'lahn blocked the doorway with her arm so McCoy could not get past her. "What did she do?"

"It's a long story," McCoy told them.

"One that has something to do with Commander Spock," V'Rha'lahn said. Fowler wasn't sure what was in her eyes—it was always difficult to read Vulcans—but it looked like real concern. Maybe even sadness or fear.

"It's complicated," was all McCoy offered before Kirk's voice came from somewhere further down the passageway. "Bones! Come on! What's the hold up?"

"On my way, Jim!" he called back. The doctor gently repositioned V'Rha'lahn's arm before heading after the captain. Fowler stepped into the broken doorway, but stopped when he realized V'Rha'lahn wasn't moving. "Aren't you coming?"

"You heard the Fik-Zhel-Lan say he thought the infant might be hidden somewhere in the Cathedral, perhaps even in this room."

"Yeah, but—we don't know if it's here, or if it's even alive. We don't know what's going on, and the only way to find out is to keep up. Come on. If the others get too far ahead, we'll lose them."

"I am going to look for the child," V'Rha'lahn began methodically searching through the crates with a grim expression. "You can do as you wish."

Fowler was unsure what to do. He could stay with her, out of harm's way, searching for an infant who might not even be there, or he could follow Kirk. There was an exciting, intriguing story winding around the captain and his group right now, and if Fowler could get an exclusive first-hand account for his news service, it would make his career—and his supervisors might even overlook the apparent loss of the JJ-2009. "I've got to go," he said. She ignored him as he rushed after Kirk and the others.

V'Rha'lahn pulled the face from one of the larger crates, the packing material spilling around her feet and ankles, but found nothing but cold statuettes. Another crate held only long tubes filled with scrolls; a third was filled with artifacts from the prehistoric Brag t'Nesh-kur Haurok (1) on Delta Vega. As each box failed to provide her quarry, despite her Vulcan aesthetic, V'Rha'lahn felt nagging frustration at the back of her mind, and the fear-like desperation still carried in the most ancient part of the brain of every Vulcan. She looked around her and counted the crates: thirty-seven, that she could see. She could open each, one at a time, or calm herself and think of a more efficient way to tackle the process. Taking in a slow breath, she cleared her mind.


The discourse over the V'tosh ka'tur continued. At this stage, the few remaining speakers had little to add, seemingly only interested in getting their opinions entered into the official record. Seasoned diplomats knew this last-minute tactic was a part of every conclave, and sat patiently through the process. Other delegates, however, who felt the protracted monologs were narcissistic and pointless, were starting to fidget in their chairs, restless to move on to other matters. Sarek was gratified to see Sybok leaning back in his seat, seemingly serene, smiling, sometimes listening as one of his delegates whispered something to him, but otherwise politely allowing the other Sects to have their say, even when what said was in direct opposition to his own purpose and standing.

When the last speaker finished, T'Lale said, "We have heard an accounting from every Sect on the reinstatement of the citizenship of the V'tosh ka'tur. All debate on the matter is now closed." She turned to Sybok, "The Chamber will listen to any closing statement you may wish to make, Delegate Sybok, before the final votes are cast."

Unusually restrained, Sybok rose from his chair at the head of his delegation. He looked at his people and smiled at them before addressing the Chamber. "I believe the discourse on this subject has gone on long enough, T'Sai T'Lale, and there is little more to add to either side of the argument, so my closing will be brief." He grinned at the room, adding, "Besides, some of the younger delegates are starting to doze off and I don't want them sleeping during the voting process. Mild chuckles from the Humans, and some silent nods from the Vulcans answered his grin. "I would like to say, however, that the V'tosh ka'tur are grateful to the Triumvirate and to the Sects of New Vulcan for your willingness, on this day, to allow us, once the banished and bereft, the opportunity to speak to you. Moreover," he said, his body relaxed, his hands open, his expression benevolent, "we appreciate your willingness to listen to us, to hear us with your minds and spirits. By opening yourselves to us, you acknowledge, not simply in the legal sense, but in the sense of brotherhood, our oneness within the k'war'ma'khon. You recognize our shared heritage, our shared destiny, and our shared hopes. In doing so, you lose your fear. Today, you have demonstrated the essential wisdom deeply rooted in all Vulcans: a logic which overcomes trepidation and bias and habit. Today, the substance of your words has taken into account the substance of our shared reality: we are an endangered species, and in order to survive, we must unite as a people—whatever our personal philosophies—and endure.

"In the dark hour which is etched into the consciousness of every Vulcan, Nero of Romulus may have extinguished our home world and the majority of our loved ones, but with that action, he also ignited within the survivors a blazing will to carry on which shines brighter than any star in the galaxy; and we who were spared, we, the people of New Vulcan, will not be so easy to put out."

Applause met those words, and Sybok waited, quiet and patient until the swell subsided.

"We now find ourselves on the cusp of social and philosophical transition," he continued. "Although a legacy of separatism and segregation was passed onto us by those previously in control of the Vulcan government, we, their inheritors, have an opportunity to choose how we will deal with that legacy before we pass it on to our children. Today, through your willingness to listen, you indicate your choice will be a well-informed and well-reasoned one. We cannot ask for anything more. Let us go forward, therefore, my fellow Vulcans, my extended family, in strength and resolve, to sustain and preserve the Vulcan race, and to provide for the children of the Ek'tevan Prerogative, the Taluhk Tan (2), a world of peace, equality, promise and unity." (3)

As Sybok settled into his chair, bright applause cascaded from all around the Chamber. Behind him, his delegates came to their feet, and Sarek leaned over and said over the din, "Well done, my son."

"Not too flowery, Father?"

"Perhaps, a little," Sarek granted, and Sybok laughed.


Finding Medical Whites for Security Chief Prince was difficult, given his muscular bulk, but Christine was able to dig up something that fit him, if snugly. She then assisted Spock with the hovering EMU bed he insisted on taking as a mobile prop. (4) Along with the normal inventory of medicines, Nu-skin spray, and sterile field generators, the shallow cabinets in the lower part of the bed's frame now held a variety of small weapons, the teams' sanitized EV suits, and several hyposprays filled with neuro-neutralizers.

"You're loaded for bear," Christine remarked. When Spock cocked his head questioningly, she explained, "It's Earth slang. In the ancient days, what you packed into a musket depended on the size of the animal you wanted to shoot. When you loaded your gun 'for bear,' it meant you were packing a large charge of gunpowder, making yourself ready for a worst case scenario."

"Better safe than sorry," Cho remarked, adjusting the collar on her lab coat.

"Right," Christine nodded.

"One might have simply said that in the first place," Spock said, and the women chuckled.

"So, what are our goals, Commander?" Davis asked.

"We have been cut off from our Away Team by an alien forcefield; regulations require we reestablish contact. The Cathedral is full of Vulcan women who are experiencing difficult pregnancies; that fact gives us a plausible pretext on which to enter the structure under the semblance of a medical team. Once inside, our first priority is to locate and ascertain the status of Captain Kirk. After that, we will proceed, as necessary, to assist the Fik-Zhel-Lan. Any questions?"

"None of you know any medical jargon," Christine pointed out to him. "If you're confronted with a medical question, what are you going to do? Wait until one of you finds an answer on a PADD?"

"I take it you have a suggestion, Nurse Chapel."

"Absolutely. Let me come with you."

"No way," Security Chief Prince said. "This is a security operation."

"A security operation in a medical guise," she reminded him, and returned her attention to Spock. "I met the members of the Triumvirate when they came aboard the Enterprise, and I'm the duty nurse assigned to about thirty pregnant women on the planet, including those among the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation. They'll recognize me, which will give credence to your impersonation of a medical team responding to a pregnancy-related emergency. If you're asked any medical questions, I can give immediate answers. So, Commander," Christine crossed her arms over her chest and gave Spock a self-assured and lighthearted smile, "go ahead. Tell me my logic is sound."

Spock had raised an eyebrow at her, but reluctantly conceded. "Very well. You may accompany us. However, you are to remain out of harm's way. Should any violent altercation erupt, you are to seek shelter and follow my orders, and those of Security Chief Prince, to the letter."

"I understand, Commander."

"Just stick close to me," Prince said, nudging her a bit.

Christine chuckled at him, but, in truth, she found the whole undercover scheme very exciting. As they headed through the city gates toward the courtyard in front of the Cathedral, it was difficult not to grin, until she and the rest of the team were out in the mid-afternoon heat for a few minutes, and Spock kept their pace to a quick jog. Christine knew Vulcans craved warmth, but it was almost too much for the Humans to tolerate even for a short period. Prince and Davis started sweating through their scrubs and looking flushed after about a hundred paces; Christine feared they might succumb to heat exhaustion. So, she and the others were grateful when Spock came to a halt between two buildings near the heart of Svitan'Kahr, and let them rest in the shadows for a few moments.

On their way from the bivouacs, the team had come across a handful of pedestrians, most of who gave them a quick glance and seemed to dismiss them as precisely what they pretended to be: a medical team on the way to an emergency. Spock's ploy seemed to be working well, or so Christine thought.

Just as they started into the Cathedral's courtyard, however, they encountered Ste've hustling toward the building from another direction with a stack of PADDs in his arms. He glanced at them, proceeded forward a few steps then stopped in his tracks. Spock slowed his group to a halt, and waited as the intern paused and then turned slowly to them.

"Busted," Cho muttered under her breath.

"Not necessarily," Davis whispered. "That guy's never seen us before; he doesn't know we're not orderlies."

"Please, we are totally busted."

"Will you two shut up?" Prince ordered quietly as Ste've approached them with a puzzled look on his face. He may not have recognized the security guards, but he had recognized Spock, and that seemed to be the source of his confusion: his mind apparently couldn't reconcile the medical scrubs and Spock's appearance in them.

Frowning slightly, Ste've gazed at him for several seconds, "Commander Spock —?"

"Told you. Busted," Cho muttered to Davis.


It was all Kirk could do to keep up with the Vulcans in the labyrinth. He didn't dare fall behind or he'd get lost; so despite the Vulcans' speed and the heavier gravity pulling on every muscle in his body, he forced himself to keep the pace. He was surprised how quickly T'Pau could move. Even at her age, and with some kind of injury—he'd found the bloody, partial handprint she'd left behind on the wall in one of the narrower passageways—she had remarkable speed and agility, whipping around corners, slipping through narrow openings he thought only a rat could manage. He supposed if he had an angry Sa'aat on his heels, he'd move with as much speed as possible, too.

He understood Sa'aat's single-minded persistence when it came to T'Pau and her criminal behavior: the policeman in Sa'aat wouldn't let her get away. But he also knew the Fik-Zhel-Lan's motivation revolved around Spock and whatever relationship Sa'aat had with him. The captain knew Sa'aat was physically attracted to Spock, but whatever else they shared seemed to go much deeper. Kirk had no doubt that Sa'aat would lay down his life for Spock—and would kill for him, as well, if a reason presented itself, and Sa'aat could kill in ways Kirk couldn't begin to imagine.

The captain admitted, that part of him wanted T'Pau severely punished for what she had done to Spock. But another part of him, the greater part, the part he had inherited from his father, George, and that Admiral Pike had recognized within him on the first day they'd met, knew the woman deserved justice, a right to due process, regardless of her crimes. James T. Kirk couldn't stand by and watch Sa'aat execute T'Pau in the street like a rabid animal... but he wasn't sure how he was going to stop Sa'aat from doing just that.


At his security station, Sionak listened to the vote on the reinstatement of citizenship for the V'tosh ka'tur while watching the displays on his security station monitor, easily splitting his concentration between the two without confusion.

His equipment, like Sa'aat's, was unaffected by the containment field, and he was able to maintain a visual on Sa'aat... and on Captain Kirk and his personnel... and on Commander Spock and his group as they moved below and through the city. Sa'aat had given him a direct order not to interfere with the pursuit of T'Pau, and Sionak was bound by his oaths and duty to obey that order. As Kirk had pointed out, however, Sa'aat had given the noninterference order to Sionak, not to Kirk or Spock, so Sionak was willing to allow them to go where he himself could not, even though he knew his reasoning was little more than specious subterfuge.

When Spock's team had breached the containment field in the sewage conduit, Sionak had stifled any alarm that would have alerted Sa'aat or his own personnel to the intrusion. Further, he had placed only minimal security on the room where Kirk and his team had been incarcerated after their arrest, hoping they would find a way to let themselves out, or that Spock's group would free them. It had been surprising when the woman, V'Rha'lahn, went to their aid, Sionak admitted, but her involvement had little impact on anything he had set in motion, so he did nothing to stop her either.

Now, his monitor was full of movement. Streaming video showed him images of Sa'aat chasing T'Pau through the labyrinth of passageways under the Cathedral; a smaller section of the screen followed Kirk and his group; a third followed Spock; and a fourth showed V'Rha'lahn in one of the alcove rooms. At the same time, a detailed schematic in the right corner of the screen, displayed all the streets, alleys and passageways involved, with Sa'aat and the others designated by colorful moving blips.

Watching Sa'aat's bright-green blip, Sionak marveled, as he often did, at his commander's ingenuity. Through his communicator, Sa'aat, who knew all of the passageways by heart, fed Sionak which doors to lock and which ones to keep open, or which defensive systems to stifle and which ones to arm, in order to herd T'Pau in the direction he wanted her to go. He was forcing her up through the labyrinth, and seeing to it that she would have to exit into an alleyway alongside the Cathedral—where Sionak would have a phalanx of guards posted as soon as Sa'aat authorized their deployment.

As Sionak watched his monitor, T'Lale call for the Sects to cast their final vote. The V'tosh ka'tur Sect was not allowed to participate in this part of the process; so, from the twelve remaining Sects, at least eight were going to have to vote "yes" in order to give Sybok the two-thirds majority he needed for his group to remain as viable members of the New Vulcan Council. In the unlikely event of a tie, the Triumvirate itself would cast the deciding vote.

T'Lale addressed each Sect individually, taking them in alphabetical order so no one could claim she was showing bias, and called upon each leader to speak for his or her group. "Gilrana of the El-Dvelan Whl'q'n, how vote thee?"

Gilrana, a distant cousin of Gilgreni of the Fonn Vuhlkansu delegation, did not rise from her chair, but said simply, "Ha."

One "yes" vote for reinstatement; Sionak kept the tally in his head.

"Sarek of the Fonn Vuhlkansu, how vote thee?"

"Ha," Sarek said firmly, and Sionak watched Sybok nod appreciatively.

"Solat of the K'torr Tong'av, how vote thee?"

"Ha."

It was a good start; three in favor of reinstatement, and none against.

"Stalan of the Leshar Shasol-Kethtra, how vote thee?"

"Ri," Stalan said without looking up. A "no" vote from that sect didn't surprise Sionak. The Leshar was a traditionalist sect that had taken in former ministers T'Pessmar, Ne'Milk, and Teylon, after they were removed from office. Their hard-line stance to anything that upset the old order was entirely expected.

"Serrel of the Shakhu, how vote thee?"

"Ri."

"T'Kayash of the Sular t'Tvi-Latva, how vote thee?"

"Ha."

Four to two.

Through the monitor, Sionak heard Sa'aat give the command, "Haulat, gol-tor." (Haulat, assist.) Sionak activated another part of the screen, and watched the Haulat shimmer to life inside its hanger, open the flight-doors in the ceiling, lift off, and then cloak itself.

T'Lale continued, "Smeck of the Sutra t'Kash-to-vel, how vote thee?"

"Ri."

"T'Zaya of the Torai-Svitan, how vote thee?"

"Ha," T'Zaya answered with a deep bow in Sybok's direction. He smiled and winked at her.

"Ambassador McCormick of the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, how vote thee?"

The Ambassador rose to her feet and ceremoniously bowed to the Triumvirate, before saying, "Speaking on behalf of the United Federation of Planets and the Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs, we vote, yes, ha." No one seemed impressed by her practiced performance, but the vote was tallied just the same.

"T'Roik of the Uzh Ar'Kadan, how vote thee?"(5)

"Ri."

There were two votes left. If the two votes were cast in Sybok's favor, the majority would be his and the V'tosh ka'tur would win their bid for reinstatement. If the votes split, one for and one against, Sybok would not have the numbers he needed to prevail, and he and his people would have to leave the Cathedral. But if both of the remaining votes went against him, a tie would result, six for reinstatement, and six against... and the Triumvirate would be called upon to intercede.


T'Pau didn't have time to squelch the flow of blood from the back of her head and shoulder where shards from the door had struck her when it exploded. Like all head wounds, hers bled a good deal, and the blood oozed hot down her neck and back, but the damage was superficial. Vulcan skulls were exceptionally hard, and it would take a lot more than a chip of stone to inflict serious injury, so she ignored it and kept moving, even though she knew Sa'aat was manipulating her path, forcing her to go in a direction only he could specify. She had no doubt a trap lay at the end of her route, but what choice did she have? With Sa'aat on her heels, it was move or die. She hoped that whatever Sa'aat had done to disrupt communications and jam her homing beacon, which was currently keeping her confederates from beaming her from the planet, didn't extend beyond the Cathedral itself.

Sa'aat had thwarted her original plan to escape the planet's surface when most of the population would be fixated on the Council Meeting, and most of the security force would be focused on the Formal Chamber—at least for the time being. She decided that once outside of the labyrinth, she would head toward the Cathedral's courtyard, and, if possible, toward the shuttle port. From there, she would have more options, more avenues of escape, and it would be more difficult for Sa'aat to contain her.

She had a disruptor pistol, but was reluctant to use it while inside the labyrinth. As much as she hated to admit it, Sa'aat was a brilliant security officer. While under Semuk's command, he had deployed a defensive mechanism that shut down every energy weapon in, and around, the Medical Facility when a phaser was accidentally discharged indoors. On another occasion, he had used subsonic waves, channeled through an intercom system, to paralyze the crew of a Ferengi cargo ship trying to filch a load of Vulcan brandy from the city's shuttle port. She had no doubt that Sa'aat had set up intriguing gizmos all over the Cathedral and throughout Svitan'Kahr, and she did not want to accidentally trigger one and thereby play a part in her own capture. So, she kept a hand on the butt of her weapon, but did not draw it.


Kirk's heart raced, and his pulse pounded in his ears. If Sa'aat and T'Pau didn't let up soon, he was going to vomit from the exertion. Scotty and McCoy, huffed and groaned behind him, as the chase continued and their bodies started to give out under the fierce pace. Part of him wished T'Pau would trip over something so they could finish this, but he also knew Vulcans weren't that clumsy.

At the end of his second year as a cadet, he had participated in a relay race between students and instructors at the Academy. It had been a cool morning; there had been fog earlier, but it had lifted and left the air moist and bracing. Kirk had finished his leg of the race and had passed the baton on to Peter Turner, their team's ringer, a hurdling champion. (6) The students were winning, ahead of the instructors by a good two-and-a-half lengths, and Kirk was grinning as he trotted to a halt along the sidelines where McCoy was waiting for him with a towel and a bottle of vitamin water.

"We are golden!" Kirk announced, rubbing his face and neck down with the towel.

"Looks that way," said McCoy.

As Kirk took a long swig from the water bottle, a female voice from behind McCoy said, "Don't count your chicken salad before it's replicated, cadet." He looked over to find Uhura walking up to them with her green-skinned Orion friend, Gaila, at her side.

"Helloooo, ladies."

"Hello, yourself, Mister Kirk," Gaila giggled.

"You know me?"

"Everyone knows you, Kirk," Uhura told him with a wry smile, "and that isn't necessarily a compliment, so wipe that pompous grin off your face."

"Yes, ma'am," he answered, but kept grinning.

The women were in their Cadet Reds, but Gaila also wore a decidedly non-regulation hair-band with a pair of sparkly balls mounted on spring-like antenna that bobbled and swayed whenever she moved.

"Cute," McCoy gestured toward the antenna.

"They're supposed to help keep your eyes on my face instead of my breasts," Gaila told him.

"They don't work."

Gaila laughed and hit McCoy playfully on the shoulder.

"You don't think we're going to win?" Kirk asked, attempting to pull the women's attention back to him. "Turner's the best hurdler we've got."

"The race isn't over yet," Uhura said.

Gaila wrapped an arm around McCoy's waist and said, "Her box-hugger's in there somewhere."(7)

"He is not my 'box-hugger.' And who taught you that ridiculously obscene phrase anyway?"

"Sean Finnegan." (8)

At the sound of the upper classman's name, Uhura rolled her eyes, saying, "Should have known," and Kirk made a gagging gesture with his finger inside of his mouth that made Gaila giggle all the more.

"I take it, you don't like the guy," said McCoy.

"What's there to like? Finnegan's a merciless jerk."

"Really? Wouldn't that make you two perfect for each other?" Uhura teased.

"Jim can't handle the competition," McCoy explained.

Kirk made a rude noise, and looked back toward the track where Mrs. Eddleton, the Environmental Sciences instructor, now struggled to pass her baton to the next instructor in line: a tall man covered in a blue fleece running suit and hoodie. "What's he dressed for? A mugging?"

"—Just doesn't like the cool temperature here in San Francisco," Uhura said.

"All that extra weight is just going to slow him down."

"Don't count on it."

"Wanna bet?"

"Name it."

"Fifty bucks."

"You're on."

All Kirk saw was a flash of pale skin and dark bangs as the runner snatched the baton from Eddleton and took off in a long-legged sprint. He'd never seen anyone cover so much ground so quickly. The two-and-a-half lengths were made up within a matter of minutes, and then the hooded runner was heading toward the final stretch of hurdles, shoulder-to-shoulder with Turner.

"You've have your ringer, and the instructors have theirs," Uhura said into Kirk's ear. "He's Vulcan. Plyometrics are a part of their everyday self-conditioning routine. Turner doesn't stand a chance."

The grin wilted from Kirk's face as the Vulcan sprung over the hurdles, one after the other, with the flexibility, strength and agility of a gazelle. Turner's face went tight with exertion and frustration as the hooded man began to pass him. Turner showed his teeth, pressing for more power to keep up. Unfortunately, he clipped one of the hurdles with the toe of his shoe and lost some of his momentum. That was enough to put the hooded man in the lead.

Along the sidelines, the instructors were jumping up and down, cheering. Kirk saw Captain Pike and his aid on the other side of the track making circling movements in the air with their fists as they shouted to the hooded runner, "Hal'uh, hal'uh, hal'uh!" (9)

"So—do you have the fifty bucks on you, or am I going to have to wait for it?" Uhura asked him…

Unexpectedly, the passage in front of the captain flooded with brilliant light, as T'Pau shoved open a door and raced into the afternoon sunlight with Sa'aat behind her. The Vulcans' inner eyelids protected their eyes from the sudden glare, but Kirk was momentarily blinded. "Damn it," he growled as he stumbled out into an alley beyond the door, his hands in front of him, trying to blink black sun-splotches off of his retinas.

He heard Sa'aat say, "Haulat, be'lamok. Sionak, s'sak-tor latva-kel ash—bek-tor weht zek," but had no idea what that meant, which added to his frustration. Nevertheless, he kept moving, feeling as Turner must have felt during that last leg of the relay race as his brain tried to orient him within the context of his new circumstances, knowing he might not win, while it also puzzled on what to do next. (10)


When Sa'aat's command came through his station, Sionak immediately motioned to another security guard to take his place at the podium, and proceeded quickly, soundlessly, out of the Chamber toward the main doors of the Cathedral. Along the way, the rest of his elite security team joined him, all armed with phasers, ahn'wuns and lirpas. (11) He missed the closing votes on the status of the V'tosh ka'tur.


"Commander Spock, this is very irregular," Ste've said. "Why are you here? And why are you masquerading as a doctor?"

"There is no time to go into detail," Spock told him.

"I should advise security—"

"Is your equipment working?"

"Of course it is. Why would it not be? I carry communiqués and data for the Triumvirate; everything has to be accessible to them at all times."

Immediately picking up on the cue, Prince tried to snag one of the PADD's from the stack in Ste've's arms. "Let me have a look at one of those, will you, son?"

"Ri'uh!" (12) Ste've turned his whole body away from Prince to shield the PADDs, and his momentum caused the topmost PADD to slide off the stack and rattle to the ground. As he bent to retrieve it before Prince could touch it, Spock delivered a firm to'tsu'k'hy to his neck, and set his unconscious body down gently on the pavement. (13)

"Neat," said Cho.

"Someday, you're going to have to teach us how to do that, Commander," Davis added as Prince grabbed the PADD and tried searching it for any information on Kirk's whereabouts.

"I have tried, Mister Davis," Spock glanced quickly around him.

Christine ran her medical scanner over the intern to make sure he was all right, but her equipment was still scrambled by the containment field. "This isn't telling me anything," she said. "Are you sure he's going to be all right?"

"The effect is temporary," Spock assured her. "Help me get him onto the EMU."

"We're going to carry him with us, sir?" Cho asked.

"We cannot leave him lying in the middle of the street, Ensign." As Cho and Spock hoisted Ste've's limp body onto the hover bed, and Christine covered him from head to foot with a sheer blanket, Spock asked, "Having difficulties, Mister Prince?"

"Just give me a second to adjust the language setting, sir—" Prince grimaced, banging the side of the PADD with his hand. Spock reached over, tapped the screen in two places with his index finger, and the language on it switched from Golic Vulcan to Federation Standard. Looking sheepish, Prince said, "Thank you, sir," and continued his search for the captain, as Spock drew a phaser from the cabinet in the base of the EMU, and Cho and Davis did the same.

"Hold it, Commander," Prince said after they'd taken only a few steps toward the Cathedral.

When the Chief didn't elaborate, Spock looked back at him and prompted, "Yes, Chief?"

Prince scowled at the PADD, then looked up to answer him. "If I'm reading this right, both Sa'aat and Captain Kirk are heading straight for us, sir."

Spock searched the surrounding buildings but did not see anything. "Location."

"They're about forty-five meters in that direction, sir." Prince pointed to where a small alley along the side of the Cathedral opened into the courtyard, next to the Cathedral steps. "Coming up fast. There's someone ahead of them, a Vulcan female... and it looks like... maybe Doctor McCoy and Engineer Scott behind them, too, if I'm reading the signatures correctly."

"He is flushing her out," Spock said, more to himself than to his team.

Prince added, "I'm also reading a group of eight Vulcans heading this way from inside the Cathedral, Commander."

"Company's coming," Davis remarked. "With the courtyard as open as it is, we don't have much in the way of cover."

Spock looked at Christine and ordered, "Back in between the buildings; take the EMU with you. Ensign Cho, see that she complies." Christine pursed her lips but did as Spock told her, with Cho covering her as she exited into the shade between the buildings again with the hover bed in tow. She had the odd feeling something was different about the shady area. It felt larger and darker than it had previously, but she immediately dismissed the sensation as little more than a trick played on her eyes by the intensity of the New Vulcan sun.

As soon as Spock felt they were secure, he made a sprint toward the Cathedral steps, saying over his shoulder to his team, "Shoot to stun. I want no fatalities."

"Aye, sir," Davis promised as he and Prince struggled, once again, to match their Commander's speed.


As T'Pau rounded the corner to the front of the Cathedral, she saw a medical team rushing in her direction, seemingly responding to an emergency inside, but then she realized they had weapons drawn and that the lead person was a Vulcan, one whom she immediately recognized. "Spock," she mumbled, her face rippling with contempt at the sight of him, and she drew her disruptor.

"Get down!" Spock shouted to his team as he caught a glimpse of the weapon before its muzzle flared to life. The beam scorched the air in front of him as he twisted his body severely to the right to avoid being hit. However, it struck Davis squarely in his chest, and his entire body glowed bright green before quickly disintegrating, leaving only the echo of his pain-filled cry.

"Davis!" Cho screamed, rushing into the courtyard. Prince dove at Spock to try to shield him with his body as T'Pau fired again, and her weapon was answered by phaser blasts from both Cho and Prince. None of the beams hit their targets, however. Just as T'Pau's finger squeezed off the shot, she was struck full bore by a psychokinetic blast from Sa'aat's mind that threw her sideways and knocked the weapon from her hand. The beam from it seared through the air but didn't strike anything. At the same instant, the discharge from the Starfleet officers' weapons impacted with the kinetic flare and dissipated over it like melting butter.

When T'Pau made a grab for her fallen disruptor, another mind-flare from Sa'aat smashed it, spreading the bits across the cobblestones in front of her. Even with all of her Vulcan control, she was unable to keep the shock from her face in that instant.

As if on cue, the doors of the Cathedral opened and Sionak and his phalanx of guards streamed out, their lirpas glinting wickedly in the afternoon sun. Sionak immediately took in the scene unfolding in front of him, and addressed it with practiced calm. Instead of advancing on T'Pau, he remained where he was, making a single waving gesture to his troops. They spread out and filtered down into the courtyard creating an arch-shaped barrier that blocked T'Pau's main route toward the distant shuttle port. Kirk and his group stumbled into the courtyard, blinking against the sunlight, shading their eyes with their hands, Fowler bringing up the rear. Kirk had the phaser V'Rha'lahn had procured for him in hand, but didn't fire. He saw T'Pau was now disarmed and effectively surrounded: Spock and his team in front of her, Sionak to her rear, Sa'aat to her left with Kirk and his group lingering slightly behind him, and the armed guards to her right.

Still on the ground, T'Pau rolled onto her feet. She was obviously shaken, but she forced herself upright. Sa'aat continued across the courtyard toward Spock, the air around him warping and undulating as waves of energy radiated from his psyche. Kirk could almost hear the power of Sa'aat's mind humming around him, like the distant drone of bees, and he had to admit it frightened him. When the Vulcans had landed in Montana on that fateful day of First Contact, there were groups of xenophobes who claimed they couldn't be trusted, because they had abilities and powers they deliberately kept hidden from Humans—and here was proof. What had V'Rha'lahn called it? The eschak: the killing gift. Kirk had never seen anything like it... and he was pretty sure none of the others had either.

T'Pau kept the front of her body facing Sa'aat, but her eyes went to Spock, who returned her stare with a seemingly emotionless one of his own; although, somewhere behind those dark, solid eyes, she believed, lurked the deep humiliation and rage she could evoke within him. He leveled his phaser at her heart, and as he did so, Cho and Prince trained their weapons on her as well. "Surrender," he said.

She gave the weapons a dismissive smirk. "You will not fire upon me, Spock. It is not within you to kill me."

"Considering our history, madam, it may be unwise to put that particular theory to the test."

"Okay," Kirk said, hoping to de-escalate the situation. "She's unarmed now and surrounded. There isn't anywhere she can go. Let's... everybody, let's just turn off the theatrics and take her into custody. Okay? Before anyone else gets hurt."

None of the Vulcans responded. Sionak and his guards maintained their grip on their weapons, and Spock kept his phaser aimed at T'Pau, while she and Sa'aat continued their silent tête-à- tête. As Sa'aat crossed the courtyard, heading toward Spock, T'Pau's body turned to face him, in much the same way the Earth's moon turned on its axis to always keep its face to the planet. Sa'aat squared his shoulders; she raised her chin to counter him. He tilted his head to look at her from under his black, sweeping eyebrows; T'Pau folded her hands in front of her to apparently demonstrate she wasn't intimidated by his stare. Each move was slow, oddly elegant, deliberate, and completely silent. With each step, each echoing movement, each shift in position, the tension between them continued to build.

"They're going to obliterate each other, Jim," McCoy murmured.

"If you've got any suggestions, Bones, I'm open to listening to them," Kirk whispered back.

McCoy shook his head and shrugged, then stepped forward a pace and called out, "Sa'aat. She's obviously injured. I can see the blood from here. At least allow me to give her some medical attention."

"Are you in pain and in need of assistance, ko-eshu'a?" Sa'aat asked T'Pau, his voice distorted, echoing within the confines of the energy field he had generated around himself.

She reached into the back of her dark hair, brought her hand around and ran her bloodied fingers across her forehead and down the side of her cheek. It was an ancient gesture, not used since before the time of Surak: a ritual sign of contempt in the face of an enemy. Sa'aat narrowed his eyes at her, and the psychokinetic field around him constricted slightly, as she felt the scratch of his mind along the inside of her skull, like long claws, dragging and sharpening themselves against her bone. She grimaced internally, but said nothing.

"They're not going to stop," McCoy said. "Not until one or both of them are dead."

Kirk nodded, so he tried a different tack. If he could remove Spock from the mix, maybe T'Pau and Sa'aat would be more inclined to listen to reason. "Mister Spock, I order you to stand down."

Spock didn't immediately acknowledge the command. Although his hand was steady, his grip was firm, and his face was a mask of contained calm, he was having difficulty. His increased breath rate was the only indicator that being near T'Pau had set off a psychological whirlwind within him. Fragments of physical memory and unconscious remembrances, like bits of jagged glass tipped with venom, churned inside his head and body, ripping into him, filling him with toxic emotions and dark seething pain. He could barely concentrate, and found it hard to set his logic against the instinct that insisted he either fight or flee. Dr. Surrey would have called it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But knowing the clinical term for it didn't diminish the sensation or limit the damage it was doing.

Spock swallowed hard, kneading the butt of his phaser, hoping the alternative stimuli would distract his brain enough to allow him to squelch the ugly impressions and obey his captain's command. When that failed, he sent another part of his mind outside of himself, to Nyota.


Nyota paused in her attempts to breach the containment barrier with a communications signal, and sat back in her seat for a moment. Her mind was suddenly suffused with images of Spock: standing at Swahn's cribside illuminated in soft blue light, the gentle and accepting father she always knew he could be; his hair rumpled from their night together, his eyes smiling for her when the rest of his features hid everything he felt.

The air was filled with the heady, carnal incense of the red-spice-and-frankincense scent of him, and she felt the electric tingle of his psi-touch against her skin and her consciousness, poised and expectant, but uncertain. She touched the curve of the tiny compass pinned inside of her bra, and said, "Spock?" aloud without realizing it.


"K'diwa," Spock muttered, finding himself enveloped in the pollen-like fragrance of Nyota's intimacy and the lavender hint of her perfume. He closed his eyes and took a long breath, drawing her deep inside: her affection, her unconditional acceptance of everything he was, her unflappable, quiet determination, her courage and dedication. Her fortifying essence filled the spaces within that had been carved raw by the whirlwind, and against the granite core of her feminine strength, the storm ground itself down, lost its impetus, and dissipated. When he opened his eyes again, and breathed out, Spock was able to look at T'Pau and remember— without the pain.

"Spock," Kirk said again. "Lower your weapon and withdraw. That's an order."

The Vulcan glanced at his captain, then looked at the weapon in his own hand, and let it fall to his side. "Acknowledged," he said, taking a few steps back, placing himself between Cho and Prince.

"You're outnumbered and unarmed," the captain said to T'Pau. "Give yourself up, and I'll make sure you're provided with due process."

"You have no authority here, Captain," T'Pau sneered.

"Sa'aat will relinquish jurisdiction to the Federation in this matter if you surrender now."

Sa'aat raised an eyebrow. "Will I?"

"In the interest of peace and justice, yes, you will."

The Fik-Zhel-Lan tilted his head, and the distortion caused by the energy field around him lessened considerably. "If nothing else, this experiment should prove interesting," he said, letting the eschak bubble dissipate completely.

"T'Pau to the S'harien Aidoann," T'Pau said immediately, "Emergency transport."

Kirk looked up, as did some of the others, to see if anyone or anything would answer her. No one did.

"The containment field extends to the outskirts of the city," Sa'aat said. "All communication and transportability are blocked. It is interesting, however, for me to note that no vessel with the call-name S'harien Aidoann is listed on the registry of Vulcan ships. And since my scanners—which have not been impaired by the forcefield—have, as yet, been unable to discern any incursion into New Vulcan space by any unregistered vessel, I must assume the S'harien Aidoann is either currently out of range, or is cloaked."

"Only a handful of races have advanced cloaking technology," Spock added. "The Suliban Cabal, the Klingons to a lesser extent, and the Romulans."

"And the Coh'Lie, of course," Sa'aat reminded him.

"Yes, osu. However, I assumed they would be wholly disinclined to assist T'Pau in this, or any other matter, and therefore excluded them from the list of possible conspirators."

"Quite logical." Sa'aat turned his attention back to T'Pau. "So, the question that remains, madam, is: with which of those aforementioned groups have you aligned yourself?"

"I admit to nothing," she said.

"Irrelevant. I do not need any further admissions or confessions from you to prosecute you. Even the Federation will recognize your crimes of false imprisonment, theft, battery, conspiracy, resisting arrest, murder, attempted murder..."

T'Pau interrupted him. "When my allies are unable to contact me, they will respond with force to retrieve me."

"If that were true, madam," Spock said, "they would have already done so."

"And yet we see them not," Sa'aat added. "Perhaps your allies have deserted you."

"Not so," T'Pau countered. "There are more with me than you can see, Sa'aat; more who follow me than you will ever know."

"Pardon me, but there seems to be little evidence to sustain your assertion."

"Is this evidence enough?" Ste've shouted from the edge of the courtyard. He emerged from the shadows with Christine trapped in the vice-like grip of one of his hands, and a phaser set to kill in the other. Without warning or provocation, he fired directly at Spock. It was Ensign Cho who took the brunt of the discharge, however, as both she and Prince lurched in front of Spock to protect him. Even at their distance, Kirk's group could smell the ozone left behind by the weapon's energy and the scent of Cho's charred flesh. She hit the ground, her side smoldering. Prince fired back, but his shot was deflected by Spock who shoved his arm up at the last second, so the beam burned over Christine's head, but didn't strike anything.

"Mr. Spock!"

"No fatalities, Mr. Prince. As you were."

"But, sir!"

In response, Ste've tugged Christine closer to his body, using her as a living shield, and leveled his phaser at her head. "Drop all weapons," he demanded as he strode into the courtyard, heading toward T'Pau. "Drop all weapons, or this Human dies."

"This action is futile," Spock told him. "With the forcefield in place, there is no escape. You are simply delaying the inevitable."

Ste've fired at one of Sioank's guards, sending him to the ground, and then leveled the weapon once more at Christine's head. "Drop. All. Weapons," he enunciated each word.

Kirk, Spock and Prince all set their phasers down onto the ground and kicked them aside, but Sionak's guards seem less inclined to capitulate. Their eyes collectively followed Ste've as he crab-walked across the courtyard, in an arc past Spock, and crossed in front of them on his way to T'Pau's side. Then their eyes went to Sa'aat.

Ste've turned, facing Sa'aat, with Christine in front of him. "I will kill this Human," Ste've warned, his voice quavering a bit in the face of the Fik-Zhel-Lan. "Now, drop the forcefield, and allow us to leave." Sa'aat let a thin smile play at the corners of his mouth, and closed his eyes. Fearing that he might summon up the destructive energy field again, Ste've warned him, "Try nothing! If you gather your force again, I will shoot her."

Sa'aat looked at him. "And after she is dead, what will you do?"

Ste've's eyes widened. He hadn't planned that far in advance.

"I see." Sa'aat's dark eyes then met Christine's wide blue ones, and he said, "Do you trust me, Chapel?"

Despite her fear, she responded, shaking, "Sure."

"Haulat."

The ship de-cloaked directly over the buildings where Christine had been hiding with the EMU, and drifted out over the courtyard, extending its shadow outward over everyone below it.

"Careful!" T'Pau cried, but Ste've didn't know what to do to protect them from the ship.

Sa'aat barked, "Sakuvu thorshaya. Reh-leh thonek. I'uh!" (14) The Haulat's skin glistened with a film of bluish energy, and then released it in a sudden blast of stunning, concussive force that knocked everyone onto the ground, senseless. Only Sa'aat, protected by a ra-de'kutha sphere generated by his own mind, remained standing. (15)

He went to Spock first and checked his heart rate and respiration, which were normal. He then checked the others. Cho and the guard who had been fired upon were both dead, but everyone else seemed to be intact, including Nurse Chapel. Sa'aat suspected T'Pau would be one of the first to recover, so he searched through her clothing for the homing beacon transmitter she carried. When he didn't find it, he checked her skin. On her left forearm he located the lump where a small subdermal device had been implanted, and he dug it out with his lipitah, dropped it to the ground, and crushed it under his heel. He then secured T'Pau's wrists and ankles with a pair of binders from the back of his belt, and did the same to Ste've. T'Lale and T'Yelas would have some explaining to do where the young intern was concerned, to be sure, but Sa'aat was willing to wait until after the Council Meeting had run its course to confront them.

Satisfied that he had done all he needed to do for the moment, he went to the Cathedral steps and sat down, finally releasing his weary mind and body to the pervasive fatigue he had been hiding from T'Pau and the others for over an hour. Sighing, holding his head between his hands, he said, "Haulat, sadalau fosh-duk. Glashau na'fan-glat t'ek'te'kal-fam stukh-hali. Var-tor nosh eh sakunotau tveshu t'au." (Haulat, release the containment field. Scan for any evidence of unauthorized space-ships. Report their status, and extrapolate origin.)

The ship's skin rippled as it disengaged the forcefield; then it cloaked itself and left, its shadow shrinking to a dot on the courtyard floor before disappearing altogether.


Inside the Formal Chamber, the overhead octagonal screen flickered once, and the reporters realized their headgear was working again. Applause was raining down all around them, and Sybok was busy shaking hands, and patting backs, and thanking those who had stood in support of him.

"And, in case you missed it, ladies and gentlemen," said the female journalist closest to the V'tosh ka'tur delegation, "that was the final tally. The last two votes, from the Vuhlkansu Na'tikopah Sect, also known as the 'Vulcans for Independence,' and the Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas Sect, also known as the 'Followers of the Holy Guardian Spirits,' went in favor of the V'tosh ka'tur. Delegate Sybok has the two-thirds majority he needs to have the citizenship of his people fully reinstated, and to get his sect a full seat on the New Vulcan Council. You can hear the reaction from the crowd. The members of the V'tosh ka'tur are obviously delighted..."

Sybok reached across the aisle, clasped Sarek's hand, and shook it fiercely. "Thank you, Father."

"Welcome home, my son."


"Sa'aat," a female voice called unexpectedly.

He looked up immediately from where he sat on the Cathedral steps, his knees up, his arms crossed over them so he could rest his head against them, and found V'Rha'lahn standing at the far edge of the front of the building. The Cathedral itself had shielded her from the Haulat's stunning blast, but she still seemed disinclined to set foot into the courtyard without Sa'aat's permission. "Advance," he said simply, and put his head down for a few more moments. He sensed, more than saw her come near.

V'Rha'lahn sat down on the step beside him. After a few quiet seconds, she asked, "How long does the effect last?"

He didn't raise his head. "Between fifteen and twenty-two minutes. I will call for reinforcements, and have the prisoners taken into custody shortly."

She nodded and looked around her, then told him, "I searched for the child."

"And what did you find?"

"Nothing. I located the kelbonite she was using, but there was nothing else there."

"I suspected as much."

When he was quiet for several seconds, V'Rha'lahn said, "I heard what you said to her in the labyrinth about the child; she said it was Spock's."

"Yes."

"Tell me how that is possible."

"Nothing good will come from the telling."

"Then I will guess."

Sa'aat turned to face her, "Conjecture without facts is unwise."

She remained steadfast. "During the plak-tau, I was unable to provide Spock with a child, although I very much wanted to give him one; yet, somehow this woman—this ko-eshu'a, as you called her—was able to create an offspring born of his blood, which may or may not have survived her treachery. I cannot leave it to her. I must find it, whatever its condition."

"For what purpose?"

"If it lives, I can take it from her."

"To replace the child you yourself could not bear? What good would come from such an effort?"

"I can raise it for him... present it to him..."

"This is not a child born from duty or love, V'Rha'lahn. This was a child born of theft, and pain, and betrayal. If ever Spock looks upon it, that is all he will see: not a gift, but a gruesome, living reminder of his agony and humiliation. He has borne enough these past months; leave him be. Let him heal. Give him a chance to move beyond the ugly memories he associates with this place. Find another way to make him happy."

"As did you, Sa'aat?"

"Yes," Sa'aat nodded, slowly, tired. "As did I."

"You gave up your place with him to that woman, that Human... as did we all."

"It was not my place to give or take away; it was Spock's. The choice was always his, and he has chosen."

"And are you satisfied now, to be less than you might have been in his heart and mind?"

"To be dissatisfied with what is, is illogical. However, as long as I am with him, in whatever capacity he chooses, there is hope."

"For what?"

"For whatever small victories and conditions we can share in the future."

"Then you believe it's better to have a part of a life with Spock, than none at all."

"Yes."

"I do not think I can be content with such an arrangement."

"For his sake, you must find a way," Sa'aat raked some of her hair behind her ear with his finger tips, "and if you are unable, I can help you. I can take away the longing that comes with the sight of him."

"Would you live without it?"

"No."

"Then why should I?"


(1) Brag t'Nesh-kur Haurok: Crypt of the Ravens; or more literally translated from the Vulcan "Tomb of the Black Birds".

(2) Taluhk Tan: Literally translated from the Vulcan language, it means "precious gift"; the name given to the children born out of the Ek'tevan Prerogative.

(3) Sybok's speech: This speech was actually an amalgamation of all sorts of different speeches and quotes on unity and logic by such notables as Sara Harrington, Allen G. Johnson, Martin Luther King, Jr., Albert Einstein, Louise Brandeis, and, of course, Gene Roddenberry. I compressed it all, of course, and then gave it a Vulcan spin; nevertheless, even though the speech is mine and I wrote it, I feel it necessary to acknowledge those who have written and spoken more eloquently on the subject before me.

(4) EMU Bed: Emergency Mobile Unit bed; a type of all-in-one gurney that includes an emergency resuscitation and defibrillating "crash cart" and an intensive care unit bed; generally referred to as an "emu" (like the big, flightless Australian birds). Author's note: the EMU is NOT Trek canon, I made it up myself, based on the modern-day LSTAT and MSTAT beds, and already existing Trek technology. As an aside, my brother Matt heads a company that manufactures LSTAT-type beds for large corporations and military use. Versions of his "Star Trek bed" have also appeared on various TV shows.

(5) The 13 New Vulcan Sects: along with the [1] Fonn Vuhlkansu (the "Loyalist Vulcans", a revisionist group) and the [2] V'tosh ka'tur ("Vulcans Without Logic", an extremist group), there are eleven others. The moderate groups include: the [3] Federation Alliance for Vulcan Affairs (FAVA, the Sect made up of members of the United Federation of Planets), the [4] Uzh Ar'Kadan (the "New Works" sect) and the [5] Vuhlkansu Na'tikopah (the "Vulcans for Independence"). The groups formed by the various mystical societies include: the [6] K'torr Tong'av (the "Absence of Adornment"), the [7] Sular t'Tvi-Latva (the "People of the Inner-Encounter") and the [8] Zahelsu t'Vai Giddas (the "Followers of the Holy Guardian Spirits", also known simply as the Vai Giddas.) The other revisionist sects include: the [9] El-Dvelan Whl'q'n (the "Free Will Vulcans") and the [10] Torai-Svitan (the "Center of Action" sect). And, finally, the traditionalist sects are: the [11] Leshar Shasol-Kethtra (the "Bearers of the Spoken History"), the [12] Shakhu ("The Elderly") and the [13] Sutra t'Kash-to-vel (the "People of Intellect"). Author's note: None of these sects, except for the V'tosh ka'tur are Trek canon. I made them all up myself.

(6) Turner: he's named after the modern-day hurdler from Britain, Alex Turner.

(7) Box Hugger: Derogatory Irish slang for a "boyfriend", more literally a "vagina lover".

(8) Sean Finnegan: from the TOS episode "Shore Leave", Sean Finnegan was an Irish upper classman at the Starfleet Academy, who teased and fought with Kirk mercilessly. In the episode, when faced with a replicated Finnegan, Kirk wanted to do nothing more than to "beat the tar out of him".

(9) Hal'uh: the Vulcan word for "go!".

(10) What did Sa'aat say? I'm mean, I know, but I deliberately didn't leave a translation of what Sa'aat said here because I wanted you readers to feel some of the frustration Kirk was feeling by not being to immediately translate what was said. So get out your Vulcan dictionaries and got for it!

(11) Ahn'wun: a Vulcan weapon shaped like a long belt or tether with heavy weights at either end. The guards wear them like a sash over their armor.

(12) Ri'uh: Vulcan for a loud, firm "No!"

(13) To'tsu'k'hy: The Vulcan neck-pinch or nerve-pinch that can incapacitate an opponent for short periods of time without any permanent damage; part of the Vulcan martial arts form known as Kheile'a.

(14) Sakuvu thorshaya. Reh-leh thonek. I'uh: translated from the Vulcan this means, Radius blast. Thirty meters. Now!

(15) Ra-de'kutha: from the Vulcan this translates as "mind-wand"; according to the VLD it is a "modern psionic technology used to protect buildings/temples from attack". I just had Sa'aat use it to protect himself from the Haulat's "stun-field".