I do not own Star Trek, any of the canon characters, nor do I make any profit from my writings. I need to say this to take care of my own hide!
Taking Care Of Our Own II
Nyota sighed removed her boots and sighed in relief and she lay on the bed. She had spent too many hours on her feet lately and her ankles were a bit swollen.
Twenty minutes later, Spock entered their quarters, removed his own footwear and lay next to his wife. They had been teaching school again, using the "Vulcan for Romulan Speakers" curriculum that they developed for the Tragan refugees. The children were making a fair amount of progress in their language skills. Most had learned enough Vulcan to be able to cope with the necessities of everyday life.
The ship was proceding to New Vulcan at a very leisurely pace, in order to allow the orphanage in New Shannai'Kahr to prepare for the arrival of so many children. They were hiring and training extra staff.
The New Vulcan Immigration Ministry was not having much success in locating living relatives for the youngsters.
Nyota cuddled up to her husband, too exhausted to do much more.
"I think I'd just like to replicate some soup tonight. Any objections?"
"None, so long as I do the replication and serve you in bed. Perhaps Dr. McCoy should examine your feet."
"Spock, my sweet, you worry too much. I'm seeing him in the morning, any way."
"Very well. Does tomato basil soup appeal to you?"
"It sounds lovely."
T'Pau prepared to contact the Immigration Ministry with her decision about Saavik when it occurred to her that she now had a husband. Most of the time they kept the bond between them closed, each going about their own business. However, should anything happen to T'Pau, Tauril would be responsible for raising Saavik. He would need to be informed of this, and such a matter should really be discussed in person.
It was late afternoon, so Tauril would likely be at home, either with a client or working in his garden. T'Pau walked out to her garden and peered over the fence. Tauril was weeding. She fetched a pitcher of kasa juice, a plate of honeycakes, and all the appropriate tableware and set them on the table on her patio. Then she called to Tauril.
"Come take refreshment with me. There is a matter we must discuss."
Tauril looked up apprehensively. T'Pau had not wanted much to do with him since their bonding. He hoped that she did not want to dissolve their union. In truth, he wanted them to dwell together, but he would accept whatever form T'Pau wanted their bond to take.
"I will be right there. I must clean up first."
Tauril rose, entered his house, showered, and put on clean robes. Now he was prepared for whatever T'Pau might have to say to him, or at least so he thought. He made the short journey to her cottage, where she waited for him by the front door. T'Pau led him to the patio where he took a seat.
"Tauril, as an Elder, thee is aware of the mission Starfleet undertook on our behalf."
"I am."
"It has proven successful, with many souls of Vulcan heritage being rescued. One of them, a ten-year-old girl named Saavik is kin to me. None are closer in kinship than I, so I have chosen to raise this child. As my bondmate, the responsibility for her would fall to thee if anything should happen to me. Is thee agreeable to this?"
"No, T'Pau, it is not. It is not seemly to raise a child without a father when one is available. I wish to participate in the child's life and thine."
"I see. What form would thy involvement take?"
"We should dwell in one house. I propose that we knock down the stone wall between our cottages and join them together, adding bedrooms and a bath. The child would have two parents and we would each have our own private space."
T'Pau could not fault Tauril's logic. It would be convenient to have another adult in the home.
"I accept thy terms."
Leonard McCoy poured himself a cup of coffee and put his feet up on his desk. Most of the rescued kids were well enough to be released from Sickbay and had been farmed out to various crew members. There were just a few left. He watched from his chair as T'Vedna tucked one of the little ones in for a nap. She had been an invaluable helper to him and his staff. Bones found himself concerned about what would happen to her after she arrived on New Vulcan.
"T'Vedna, come in and have some coffee with me. You could use a break."
"Thank you, Leonard, though I would prefer tea."
There was always hot water at the ready in Sickbay, so tea was no problem. T'Vedna grabbed a cup and an herbal tea bag before seating herself in the chair opposite McCoy."
"T'Vedna, what will you do when you reach New Vulcan? Do you have any relatives?"
"The Immigration Ministry has not located any for me. I have been offered temporary employment at the orphanage. After that, I do not know. In my younger years, I was a midwife and a consoler. I would need to have upgraded training to practice midwifery now. I am well past the age to work any longer as a consoler."
Consoler! That was the second time Bones had heard the word. When he had asked T'Ameela about her family, she had told him that her mother, who had died in the Genocide, had been a consoler. Her father was one of her mother's clients. He had supported his child financially, but had gone on to marry another woman. Bones was very curious about what a consoler did. T'Ameela had told him that non-Vulcans usually could not grasp the concept and wanted to drop the matter. Bones had decided not to pry. Perhaps T'Vedna would be more forth-coming.
"T'Vedna, I have heard the term consoler before, but I don't understand its meaning. Could you explain it to me."
"Consolers form temporary bonds with males who have no mates, during their time of need."
"As in Pon Farr?"
"You know of Pon Farr, Leonard? Very few off-worlders do. Very well, then. A temporary bond is formed between a consoler and client. The mating occurs and then the bond is broken. A consoler is trained many years in order to be able to form the least invasive and most easily broken bond. However, the breaking of the bond is not a pleasant experience for either. Consolers are well-paid for their services, but many do not persist in the profession, as it prevents one from having his or her own bondmate."
"T'Vedna, how did you come to be captured by Romulans?"
"I was on my way to Melenia V, to take a bondmate and to open a new midwifery practice there. This was over a century ago, when the Romulans were constantly challenging the boundaries of their territories, making new claims. The ship I was traveling on ended up on the wrong side of the border during one such dispute. The passengers and crew were taken prisoner. I was brought to service the "personal needs" of the command staff and overseers of Hellguard. When I was deemed no longer attractive enough, I became the nursemaid to the offspring of the other women."
"T'Vedna, did you ever have children?"
"Three of my sons died in the mine."
"I grieve with thee."
"It was long ago, Leonard. The pain has lessened."
T'Pau gave Tauril all the information she had on little Saavik and showed him the holophoto the Enterprise crew had taken of her. The file from the Immigration Ministry stated that the child had emotional problems, but did not elaborate upon them. Tauril thought that he and T'Pau might benefit from more information, so he suggested that they contact the medical personnel aboard the starship.
Bones was still chatting with T'Vedna when the call came in from T'Pau. T'Vedna explained the situation to Saavik's adoptive parents.
"I fear that Saavik may have formed a familial bond with another child, a three-year-old boy named Senar who has recently regained his sight. The medical staff on board the ship was overwhelmed with sick children and limited resources. Saavik is an intelligent and curious child, who finds mischief if not kept occupied. I assigned Senar to her care, and both seemed to benefit. Now I am concerned as to what might occur if they are separated."
T'Pau thanked T'Vedna for her candor and terminated the communication. She and Tauril agreed that there was only one logical course of action. They would contact the Immigration Ministry to see if anyone had claim to Senar.
Muvar and his crew set course for Romulus at maximum speed. They had failed the Praetor, whom they knew to be a harsh master. There was no point in delaying. Hopefully their executions would be swift, and the Praetor would be satisfied, not demanding the blood of their families as well.
The Praetor was in a very foul mood. The Federation ship had gotten away and his agents on Starbase 7 had confirmed the safe arrival of Enterprise. Wanting some type of satisfaction, he prepared to take his anger out on the crew of the Jidan.
However, his musings were disturbed by the arrival of Veranis, his most trusted friend and adviser. Veranis could always cheer him up.
"Come sit with me, old friend. Tell me the latest news."
Veranis seated himself opposite the angry ruler.
"My Lord Praetor, I have come from the southern provinces, where there is unrest among the nobles. They are concerned about the heavy taxation and the increased number of executions. They also fear a rebellion of the people should word get out of the future fate of our world before a plan is in place to prevent our extinction. The nobility would like to see less money spent on military build up and more on scientific research."
"Would they, now?"
"Yes. I fear I must remind you that concerns over rebellion by the peasantry may have led to the assassination plot against the previous praetor. It would be wise to heed such reports. I must also inform you of the fact that Commander Muvar of the Jidan in the nephew of Senator Bertos, a very wealthy and powerful man. It would not do to make an enemy of him."
"What would you have me do, then, Veranis?"
"We must face the facts. This was not Muvar's failure. The Enterprise had superior technology which they managed to combine with stolen Romulan. Muvar and his crew should be spared and we must learn from their experiences. He detected the Federation vessel when others did not. He is an asset."
The Praetor considered his friend's words. In truth, he could not afford to further offend the nobility. He would need their assets to aid in his plan to move the Romulan people to the resource-rich worlds he planned to annex near the Federation border of the Neutral Zone.
Nefel sat in the vault and re-read the tablet before him. Its theme was similar to the others he had already looked at. Peace, tolerance, non-violence, diversity, an end to bigotry--- these were the things Surak had called upon his followers to embrace. They were not the values Nefel had grown up with.
Nefel had come to realize that his father was an idiot who has angered almost everyone in a position of wealth and power. The Praetor has executed or exiled all those he disagreed with or who disappointed him. Nefel has heard the whispered rumors that his father ordered his mother's murder shortly after Nefel's birth.
The Praetor had been angry over the loss of his dilithium mine on Hellguard, but had not even mentioned the death of his son Quiros, Nefel's half brother. True, the man had been an embarrassment, however his passing should have provoked some sort of emotional response from his own father. Nefel had observed none.
Nefel pondered his father the Praetor and concluded that most likely he will be assassinated. Nefel felt no real sorrow over this, merely hoping that it did not occur before his 21st birthday, otherwise power would be given to a regent. Regents are known to often eliminate the young rulers for whom they are supposedly guarding an empire. Nefel had no wish to die.
He turned his thoughts back to the tablet before him. Nefel had brought his elderly tutor Denir to the vault with him. Denir was a scholar of antiquities, but had never seen the artifacts. However, he had cared for Nefel more than the boy's own father, so Nefel was glad to give him what little reward he could.
The vault was cold and dusty, however it was also without listening devices, as the Praetor himself liked to have private discussions here. The guards scanned it daily to make certain of this. Thus, Nefel felt free to give voice to his thoughts there.
"Denir, if I ever do become Praetor, I am going to trade these nasty old artifacts to the Federation in exchange for help with the relocation of our people. We brought these stolen documents from Vulcan all those years ago, but what good have they done us? We do not follow these teachings, but we hold onto these scrolls and tablets simply so that the Vulcans can not have them. This makes no sense. It is time to cease hostilities. We Romulans do not have the resources to get everyone to safety and set up successful, self-sustaining colonies in less that 125 years."
Denir said nothing for a moment, contemplating.
"You are wise, child, though do not let others hear you speak of this. Bide your time, watch and listen. Perhaps your moment will come."
Nefel heard only the words of a wise old teacher. He did not know Denir was one of the most highly placed agent the a'kweth had. And now that he knew Nefel's thoughts, he would do all in his power to help him become Praetor.