Soval gripped the edge of the makeshift craft hard. Falling off at this speed would most certainly result in life-threatening if not even life-ending injuries. Only a human would build a craft entirely powered by wind and then operate it at dangerously unsafe velocities. A Vulcan would never have considered such a dangerous endeavor, but that was the reason why a Vulcan would have to march for days, while at current speeds their vehicle would reach the sanctuary in less than two hours after as much time of travel so far. Not quite satisfied with V'Nur's piloting skills, the human had assumed control of the craft himself, leaving the operation of the sail to T'Pol.

His thoughts were interrupted when a growl from the distance alerted him to the fact that their craft was being chased by a rather large Le-Matya, the second most dangerous creature after the Sehlat they had encountered recently. Somewhat sarcastically Soval thought that Commander Tucker was surely getting a rather comprehensive introduction to the dangers of Vulcan wild-life. Upon T'Pol's calm instruction they all ducked and he heard the sound of a projectile being ejected. Looking back, he saw that the predator had died upon impact of whatever projectile T'Pol had shot at it. The inquiry into the nature of a weapon that worked perfectly well in the Forge would have to wait as Commander Tucker was still operating the craft at a dangerous speed and staying on the craft took enough of attention.

-=/\=-

"They did what?" Jon asked and wondered if Malcolm had recently broken the rules on consumption of alcohol in addition to breaking the coms officer's heart.

"As I said sir, the only explanation is that Commander Tucker has built some sort of craft that works in the Forge. Our sensors can only barely penetrate the natural dampening field, but we could estimate their position by the three weak signatures we can pick up from the communicators that the Commanders and Ambassador Soval are carrying. Unless we've been following a sensor ghost, they have traveled two-hundred and forty kilometers in the last three hours."

"How the hell did he do that?"

"Wind," Hoshi chipped in. "From what I gathered from the database, there seems to be a fairly steady wind at this time of the year. It would be just like Commander Tucker to build the first ever sailing boat on wheels that Vulcan has ever seen."

Amusement spread around the bridge. However, Hoshi's somewhat forced chirpiness could not fool him for long. He had to commend Hoshi and Malcolm for their professional conduct and the fact that they could still work together. Not everyone would have managed to do that after what had apparently been happening during the lunch break.

"I'll be in my ready room. Lieutenant Reed, you have the bridge. Keep an eye on Captain Ahab."

"Aye Sir."

"Hoshi, hail Shran and patch him through."

-=/\=-

"What is this," V'Nur asked. His daughter's human mate had brought the vehicle to a stand-still at one of the few wells to refill the water-skins. Unlike them the human needed a constant supply of water to survive the rigors of the Forge.

"It is called a crossbow, an ancient Earth weapon," T'Pol explained. "Lieutenant Reed insisted we take one with us. For good reason as it appears."

"Your ship has ancient mechanical weapons aboard?" he asked and raised his eyebrow in surprise.

"No, but the Lieutenant had schematics of one, allowing Engineering to produce it. Lieutenant Reed is ... inordinately fascinated with all kinds of weaponry."

"It appears so," V'Nur replied dryly as they mounted the craft again upon Commander Tuckers instruction. He forced himself not to groan in discomfort. Due to a lack of suitable material and time, the craft had solid wheels and no suspension of any sophistication, which had made the three hours of travel a uniquely taxing experience. Thankfully, unless the wind would suddenly weaken, there was less than an hour of travel left. His spinal column certainly welcomed that particular fact.

-=/\=-

"Final station, T'Karath sanctuary," Trip announced. "We kindly ask all passengers to disembark. Please check your seating area for any personal belongings you might have brought on board."

He grinned at the long-suffering eye-roll he got from T'Pol. If Soval or V'Nur were not appreciative of his quip, they certainly didn't show it. Although, judging by their slow movements, they were probably too busy feeling miserable without showing it too obviously. Comfortable was certainly not a term with which to describe the ride, but since Vulcan ships weren't equipped with springs, the passenger comfort had been a bit on the short side.

It didn't take long and they were surrounded by Vulcans with strange hand-held weapons. Since T'Pol didn't raise or even load the crossbow, he supposed these were her clan members who had gone into hiding. He certainly would have grabbed a weapon himself if someone had barged into his backyard on a wind-powered ground car.

A young Vulcan stepped forward. She looked sort of cute, but however many of T'Pol's clan were hiding here, a hairdresser did not seem to be among them if her shoulder-length craggy mop was any indication.

"You've brought a human here?" she asked Soval and V'Nur curtly.

"Yeah, well hi to you too, sweetcakes," Trip chipped in before Soval or T'Pol's father could answer. T'Pol sent him a look of warning, although he could also sense that she was less than impressed with their hostesses manners.

-=/\=-

Hoshi had known it was 'game over' the moment the Andorian female had entered the mess hall and asked gruffly "Which one of you is Reed?"

From that point on the normally unflappable tactical officer had almost fallen over his own feet and stammered like the resident village idiot in light of his obvious and instantaneous attraction to the blue-skinned bombshell. She couldn't really fault him. The alien was probably the best-looking Andorian she had encountered and those Imperial Guard uniforms did not do much to hide that the Andorian woman outscored her on physical attributes by a country mile, especially two prominent features on her chest. It brought back an insecurity that had been with her all the way since puberty hit and nothing started growing.

But that was not the important bit, she mentally defended Malcolm. Looks might matter, but she had realized that the woman's self-assertiveness was what had won over the Brit in a matter of seconds. If it was for her she would have liked nothing more than locking herself up in her quarters to cry hysterically, but what help would that be? The only possible result of that would be a return of the damn no-frats and all would suffer for her weakness.

At least he had the decency to look at her apologetically, but she had put a brave face to it and smiled back encouragingly. Distracted by her thoughts she walked into the outstretched arm of Pat McIlway, who had waited for her in front of her lab.

"I'm feeling sorry for you," she said sincerely and hugged Hoshi close. The unexpected consolation shattered Hoshi's brittle control and Pat dragged her into the hydroponics lab, where she could cry in privacy, away from the inquisitive eyes of the crew. Probably not even understanding what was going on, T'Lara walked up to her an slung her arms around Hoshi, holding her while she cried.

-=/\=-

V'Nur walked up to the impertinent young female. Tradition demanded that one paid the utmost respect to the clan's matriarch, but at the current time that was quite a taxing task. He confronted her when she was sufficiently far away from anyone who could overhear their conversation.

"I demand that they're freed," he opened without a formal address in order to express his displeasure. "They have risked their lives to reach us. They do not deserve imprisonment."

"T'Pol chose herself to be imprisoned with him."

"You unjustly incarcerated her mate. Did you expect her to abandon him?" he asked her sternly, and with an unseemly amount of satisfaction he noticed that she was quite surprised by these news and had failed to hide her reaction.

"T'Pol has taken a human mate? That is unheard of."

"So is a clan matriarch, who is barely out of adolescence. The humans have a saying: There is a first time for everything."

"Humans are not telepathic," the young female argued. "It is most likely just infatuation born out of unseemly curiosity. T'Pol has always been known for her inquisitiveness."

"Soval is convinced they share a tel. That would contradict your theory, would it not?" the older Vulcan challenged her.

"No priest would dare to perform a bonding meld without the matriarchs permission, much less involving an off-worlder. Neither the deceased Eldest nor I as her successor have given such permission."

"A bonding meld is not a strict requirement for the formation of a tel, is it?"

Now the young female was in a state that his human rescuers would have called 'thunderstruck'.

"V'Nur, you are claiming that T'Pol and this human are the first recorded case of true Ashayam since the Time of Awakening?"

"I am not claiming anything T'Pau, but I must admit that you are taxing my patience. Without Charles we would still be four days from here, most likely closely pursued by the military. Instead of lauding him for his unconventional but ultimately successful thinking, you incarcerate him. As the bearer of Surak'skatra I would have expected you to choose your course of action somewhat wiser."

V'Nur knew he had happened upon something important when the young female became uncharacteristically silent. It took her a long while to answer his challenge and the statement was laden with obvious confusion and frustration.

"I bear his katra, but for reasons I do not know, Surak chooses to remain silent."

V'Nur could imagine a very good reason, but he didn't express that observation.

-=/\=-

The tools the humans were using where woefully outdated by Andorian standards, but Talas had so far not intervened, letting the delightfully grumpy Lieutenant do his job with his tools that made everything take twice as long as it needed to. Reading him was almost an exercise in futility, considering he had no antennae and even his face didn't give as much away as with the other pink-skins. It was almost as if he had taken lessons from the resident green-blood. In the end, her patience ran out.

"Hand me the micro-spanner, please," the human asked, holding out his hand, but she didn't give him the antiquated tool.

"I have brought some equipment that should align those relays much more precisely."

"The spanner will do the job nicely. If you wouldn't mind?" came the clipped reply and Talas smiled. She was finally starting to get a rise out of him. She always relished a challenge, especially with someone who had piqued her interest.

"Is there anything else I can get you?" she answered, feigning annoyance. "Some coffee perhaps?"

"That'd be lovely," he answered, not even looking up from his work. This game was really starting to be fun.

"Since you clearly don't need my help, I'll return to my ship. Thank you for the hospitality."

It was hard saying that with a straight face, but she managed it and turned to go.

"Give my regards to Commander Shran." Oh, he was good at it.

"For what it is worth Lieutenant, I'm not here to steal your secrets. It would hardly be worth the effort." she looked around the armory.

"I beg your pardon?" came the offended reply. She smiled. Every good warrior was defending his weapons.

"The last time I saw weapons like these was during my early tactical training."

"I'm sorry I wasted your time on our primitive systems," the pink-skin answered in a huff. Maybe she'd taken the game a little too far?

"Not at all," she answered in a more conciliatory tone. "Just be careful when you reconnect that to your power grid. You didn't reset the EPS synchroniser. You may singe your eyebrows when you bring it back online."

That certainly got his attention.

"Lieutenant Talas. I apologize if I've been ... rude. Why don't I get us both a cup of coffee and we can align these relays together."

Finally. she though and smiled at him.

-=/\=-

Soval admired T'Pol's composure. What T'Pau was doing was a grave offense against a bonded pair of mates. Mind-melding with Charles without getting T'Pol's expressed permission was a serious transgression and one could only admire that T'Pol was able to abstain from violent retaliation. Just because she doubted the existence of a bond did not mean that T'Pau had the right to ignore the possibility. He could see that V'Nur was having trouble to control his upset.

"Calm down, brother. There will be time to inform her of the folly of her actions."

"She has to be removed from the position of the clan's matriarch. She is clearly not ready yet to assume a position of such importance," V'Nur answered with barely restrained anger.

"T'Pau and T'Lara are the only remaining females of the house of Suurok. They have been leading the clan since ancient times, brother."

"Soval, I said it to T'Pau, and I repeat it to you: There is a first time for everything. T'Les has the age and experience to lead the clan in the interim, until T'Pau has gained the maturity that is required for such an influential position."

"We should discuss this among the clan elders," Soval agreed.


"Sit down Hoshi," Jon said and the ship's coms officer did so while the steward served their dishes.

They started dinner in silence, but Jon knew he needed to come to the point eventually.

"How are you holding up, Hoshi? The last two days can't have been easy for you."

She just nodded, her look changing to one of utter sadness. "I have friends who help. In a way I'm happy for Malcolm. Talas is obviously quite the right woman for him."

"There's a reason I asked you to come here," he started carefully and Hoshi's look changed to one of resignation.

"She's staying, isn't she?"

Jon nodded. "Shran asked if we would take her aboard. Apparently she's been at odds with him for quite some time because he didn't answer her advances. Andorian women are somewhat more aggressive, as I have been told. I'm not taking her aboard if her continued presence would make you uncomfortable though."

Hoshi sighed. "I'll be fine captain, I promise. It's not like Malcolm and I had progressed to anything. We've been out of space dock for nearly half a year now, and Malcolm hadn't managed to do as much as asking me out. I'm starting to think we wouldn't have gone anywhere. Perhaps it's for the better to end it now before it hurts even more."

"You've gotten quite a bit stronger in the last two years," Jon said admiringly.

Hoshi shrugged and then a little glimmer of mirth appeared in her eyes. "Everyone grows up at some point, captain. Maybe I should really do that striptease in the officers club that Trip keeps joking about. That way Malcolm can see what he misses out on."

"Hoshi," he admonished her softly, but couldn't help a smile. It was good to see Hoshi smile again, even if it was a little sad and just for a few precious seconds.

"Not that he would see much," she said and Jon saw her look down at her chest.

"Hoshi, I doubt that's the reason. From what you told me about meeting Malcolm for the first time, he seemed quite okay with what you have."

"But I'm not okay with it, captain. The chemistry between Malcolm and Talas is just right. She would have won him over, even if I looked like a melon smuggler. But it did play a role. I've seen him look at her, or more specifically, where he was looking and it brings back some very old insecurities."

"I can't quite square that up with the memory that the whole cover-up for the fight with your commanding officer at the STC started because a young cadet was performing a striptease as part of her gambling scheme. And if I remember correctly, you admitted back then that it was a recurring feature."

Hoshi snorted and he could hear her obvious self-deprecation. "Captain, I did that because I'm an exhibitionist at heart and because that was the only way someone noticed I was a woman in the first place. Trust me, nobody was looking at my chest as soon as the panties were off."

"Have you considered talking to Phlox. I'm not really the correct person to discuss that with."

She nodded. "He thinks my problems with it are big enough to warrant surgery, but I still need your permission, because it is not an essential procedure."

"Have you really thought about it?"

"I've started thinking about it before Talas arrived. It's been constantly on my mind since Phlox told us that he has a degree in cosmetic and reconstructive surgery."

"If you really think it helps you and Phlox decides it is medically justified, I'll authorize this procedure as soon as the current crisis is over."

"Thank you, captain."

She blushed slightly, but for the first time in two days he also saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

-=/\=-

Trip found himself in the sanctuary, but it looked distinctly less dilapidated as it had before. He gasped when he looked out of the open window. There were explosions outside and the mushroom clouds left no doubt that he was witnessing nuclear explosions. He was joined at the opening in the wall by an unknown Vulcan.

"War is taking its toll, Commander. Vulcan is tearing itself apart."

"Who are you?" Trip asked. Obviously the old man knew him - a feeling that was definitely not mutual.

"You know who I am," the Vulcan answered calmly and Trip tried to remember which memo he'd missed. Then realization came to him. The last thing he remembered was undergoing a mind-meld with T'Pau...

"So much death," the Vulcan sighed, uncharacteristically openly, especially if he was who Trip started to suspect. "It is hard to believe that this will become known as the time of Awakening."

"That was eighteen hundred years ago," Trip answered, not really knowing why he knew that. "This doesn't feel like a dream."

"You are seeing the past through my eyes."

"You've switched from T'Pau's head into mine, didn't you?"

"I chose you," the Vulcan said calmly. "I don't trust Vulcans of this time, especially the High Command. Given your own experiences with them, I doubt you can blame me for that."

"That's one way to put it," Trip snorted sarcastically. The Vulcan looked back out where the war was still raging.

"The culture you've come to know isn't the one I helped to create. My people have strayed and someone must restore them to the path."

"You've got the wrong man," he insisted.

"I'm sorry, Commander. There is an Earth expression; We are stuck with each other. Do not fight what has been given to you. Open your mind and your heart, and the path will become clear."

-=/\=-

It was obvious that T'Pau's rash actions had had a devastating impact on the human who kept drifting in and out of consciousness. Should the mate of his daughter sustain lasting damage or even die, there would be no way to prevent T'Pol from decimating the house of Surak by another female.

"Charles, Charles," she kept calling his name in desperation, and finally the human's eyes opened.

"We are not Charles. We are what was Surak," the human answered in faultless ancient Golic.