There are always wars and rumors of wars. However, to prevent any possible legal battles, I will inform you all of the following: I do not own Star Trek, any of the canon characters, nor do I make any profit from my writings.
The Jorian War VI
When confronted with the results of his brain scan, Prophet Issow had doubts about his own visions. Dr. McCoy had informed him that his brain lesions were caused by long term exposure to dilithium radiation. They could be cured with a combination of medication and surgery. However, the lesions had been pressing on a region which could cause delusions and hallucinations.
The royal family did not know how to respond. Finally Issow spoke up.
"So it may be that I have never spoken to the Creator at all. I may have done all of our people a great disservice."
Bones shook his head.
"I'm not a religious expert, but the scanner evidence makes your visions highly suspicious. The episodes that you've described as "communion with the Creator" sound more like a seizure disorder to me. If they stop after the surgery and drug therapy, than I would say they were only hallucinations. We'll do your surgery in the morning, after we've all had a good night's rest."
T'Mardis asked T'Ameela to help her serve breakfast to Selek's kinsmen in their suite. It was more convenient for the large family to dine in their quarters. Sirin and Rachel would not have to concern themselves with Torel's lack of proper table manners. It would also allow Selek and T'Mardis time with the family undisturbed by the Inn's other patrons. T'Mardis really enjoyed children, gratified to finally be bearing the child she had been wanting for years.
Once breakfast was on the table, T'Ameela left the suite as quickly as she could. Sirin and Rachel's children were beautiful. They were also highly intelligent. T'Ameela thought of the children that she might have had with Leonard and sighed. It was time to move on. She would invite Vorel to take tea with her after their afternoon classes.
Sarek had gotten all three parties to agree to negotiations lasting no more than five hours a day. Language was actually proving to be a problem. The discussions were to be conducted in the Jorian language, but there were differences in how it was spoken on each planet.
Nyota and T'Vessya had continued their studies of the Jorian language pre-Issow. Lady Felda had actually been a great help to them, as she had been a teenager at the time of Issow's rise to power. When the Jorians sought to strip themselves of their passions, their language and literature had suffered as well.
Most of the Jorians who had fled to Erdrusia had been born after the "spiritual enlightenment." They had developed their own descriptive language, their own sets of modifiers and adjectives to help express the feelings and ideas that had been forbidden to them. Some of these were quite different than those used in the original Jorian language. The result was three dialects, the original still spoken by the few Jorians who did not hold with Issow's teachings, "High" Jorian which was the Jorian religious tongue, and Erdrusian which was spoken on Erdrusia and Nalthus.
The first major hurdle to peace was getting all three groups to speak the dialect currently in use on Joria. Sarek convinced them of the logic of it, as this was the language programmed into the universal translator. This feat of persuasion took five hours and nearly cost the seasoned diplomat all of his patience.
Issow came through his surgery with no complications. Bones drained and removed five fluid-filled lesions form the Prophet's brain. Each was the size of a grape and had formed as a response to the low but constant levels of radiation Issow had been exposed to while in the mines in combination with the toxic levels of dilithium in his blood stream and lungs. The pressure inside his skull must have been enormous, small wonder Issow had been experiencing seizures.
Issow had told the doctor that he had never worn safety equipment because it hampered his supervisory and administrative duties. However, he had always made certain the the miners he was in charge of wore theirs. Bones hoped this was true but could not help wondering about the health of the dilithium miners on all three planets. Perhaps he would be allowed to perform some random physical exams once the peace talks were over.
Jason thought T'Mardis' little ship was just "the coolest thing ever." Selek let him sit in the co-pilot's seat for the short journey to Tauril and T'Pau's residence. The trip from New Sura'Kahr to New Shi'Kahr took less than fifteen minutes with most of the time being taken up with "pre-flight" checks. The process took much longer than usual because Selek allowed Jason and Torel to "assist" him.
Selek set the small vessel down in the street in front of the Elders' house.
T'Relah and her husband Kruneth had no idea what they were in for when they took up residence in the cottage next to T'Pau's. They had expected peace and tranquility with two revered Elders as neighbors. However, life on shaffor-yut or Teak Street had not been peaceful since the couple bonded.
First there was the adoption of the two children, who were permitted to play in the backyard. The female child was particularly undisciplined. Then there had been noise and dust from the construction project that joined the two cottages together, not to mention the workers who increased the foot and vehicle traffic. There had been heavy equipment and constant deliveries.
And now, just when they thought things might be settling down, a small spacecraft landed in front of the Elders' home. T'Relah could not help but wonder what might happen next.
Her musings were interrupted by the voices of children who ran up the walkway into Tauril and T'Pau's home.
"Sa'mekh-al, Ko'mekh-il!"
The Elders had several great-grandchildren visiting them. Peace and quiet were likely to elude T'Relah and Kruneth for some time.
Another five hours spent on negotiations! There would be no further Jorian interference on Nalthus. However, King Gerlhu wanted certain assurances from Viella and Guran that they would no longer encourage Jorian citizens to relocate to either Erdrusia or Nalthus. Both rulers denied ever having done so in the first place. However the king simply could not accept this.
Why would anyone want to leave Joria? Surely the rebels claims of religious and emotional repression were exaggerated. Gerlhu was certain of this, just as he had been certain that the reports of stress-induced domestic violence and child abuse had been blown all out of proportion. After all, he was the king and had the most stressful job on the planet. He had only slipped up and struck Viella and her sister a few times.
Admiral Pike poured himself a cup of coffee and a cup of herbal tea for his friend Sarek. Pike downed a couple of headache tablets with his beverage.
"Mr. Ambassador, I now understand why you wanted to keep these negotiation sessions at no more than five hours each. Diplomacy can be very frustrating."
Sarek nodded in agreement. He massaged the back of his own head. The Jorians were proving to be a pain in the neck as well as points lower.
"A wise Terran philosopher once said "It is often easier to wage war than fight for peace." I believe that none of the involved parties has a clear understanding of the others' grievances."
"Yeah, each seems to think they're guiltless and the others are completely in the wrong. This could take a while to sort out."
"It will be worth it Admiral, if it saves lives and insures that the dilithium continues to flow."
Sirin had not really connected New Vulcan with the home of his birth. He had been born and grew up on the outskirts of Shi'Kahr, the largest city on Vulcan and its capital. His parents were healers and medical researchers at the VSA. His father Stryel was Sarek's younger brother. As the heir to the clan, Sarek and his family had occupied one wing of the ancient family residence while Grandfather Skon and Grandmother T'Pau lived in another. Stryel, his bondmate T'Lonna, and their three children had lived in another, smaller home on the estate.
Now his Grandmother and her new bondmate lived in a much smaller and more modest home. There were no servants catering to their needs, though a cleaning service did come twice a week. It was all so foreign to Sirin, so very different than the home of his birth. He really did not know what he had expected, but the reality of a changed Vulcan society was nearly like a slap in the face.
New Vulcan looked different than its name sake, felt different, and even smelled different. Worst of all, almost everyone and everything he had known was gone forever. Sirin had known this intellectually and had mourned his family's passing at the time of the Genocide. However, the situation had never seemed entirely real to him until he stood in T'Pau's kitchen and watched her wipe off her own counter top. She wore a Terran-made trouser suit and a pair of black sneakers, not the dignified robes he remembered.
Admiral Pike and Ambassador Sarek were not the only ones glad that the peace talk sessions were limited to five hours. Nyota had been sitting in on them, observing the process and smoothing out language issues whenever possible. The captain had relieved her of bridge duty for the duration of the negotiations.
This day's session had been particularly stressful. King Gerlhu seemed to be absolutely clueless sometimes. He didn't think life on Joria was all that unpleasant and just couldn't understand why anyone would want to leave. Nyota could sense Queen Viella's frustration with her father and with the whole negotiating process. The woman could use a little stress reduction.
Nyota sat in her quarters, rubbing her aching feet. A few moments later she was joined by Spock, who saw her swollen ankles and expressed his disapproval.
"Beloved, we must find a way for you to keep your feet elevated while you are observing the negotiations. Dr. McCoy will not be pleased when he sees your ankles. I will make up a foot bath with the herbs Healer T'Mena gave us."
"Thank you my love. You're so good to me, always pampering me. Pampering, that's it! I'm going to invite Queen Viella and her mother to a girls' night in. I'll host a spa party like the one Chris and Janice gave me before our wedding."
Spock seemed perplexed.
"The two queens do not seem to be on speaking terms. Are you certain this "spa party" is a wise idea?"
"Consider it "beauty parlor" diplomacy. They'll go for it if I present it in the right way. I know Queen Viella would like it. Your father said that nail polish was part of his ransom! I think it will be fun."
"Very well, Nyota. I shall defer to your expertise."
Spock poured the boiling water over the herbs. He rubbed her feet while waiting for the water to cool.
More than forty-eight hours had passed since Prophet Issow's surgery. He had suffered no more seizures since, nor had he seen any visions. Both situations had been occurring several times a day in the weeks leading up to the operation.
Issow realized it had all been an illness-induced delusion. He had not been in contact with the Creator. There had been no need for the Jorians to purge themselves of their passions. Issow was filled with shame.
However, he was also a man of honor. He would work just as hard to restore the former Jorian way of life as he had to destroy it.
Sirin and Rachel's children had never known a grandfather. Rachel's father Saul had died when Rachel was a teenager. Stryel had perished in the Genocide, never having met his grandchildren and unreconciled to his son.
The children had "uncles" galore, mostly younger males with the exception of Sarek. Therefore Grandfather Tauril was quite the novelty. Jason and Torel thought he was "cool," little T'Lonna liked to sit on his lap and cuddle him, but Hanna was absolutely smitten with him. Tauril had snow white hair and merry blue eyes.
While trying to get the younger children to settle down for an afternoon nap, Tauril had told them a story about a ch'kariya, a weasel-like mammal that lived on Vulcan. As a youngster, Tauril had caught such a creature and attempted to tame it. It had not been a good plan, as it stripped all the produce from his mother's vegetable garden. Tauril had been required to release the creature into the desert and replant the garden.
Hanna had begged for another story, but Rachel insisted that it was nap time. She tucked her daughter in bed, barely having enough room to move in Saavik's crowded room. Tauril had rented extra beds for the duration of the families stay.
Hannah yawned sleepily.
"Mama, Grandfather Tauril is cute, isn't he?"
Rachel laughed. Tauril was definitely both attractive and distinguished looking.
"Yes, Hannah, I guess you could say that he is."
"Grandmother T'Pau sure knows how to pick'em."
"Go to sleep, Hannah!"
Rachel shut the bedroom door and tried not to giggle. She encountered T'Pau leaving Senar's room.
"Something amuses thee, Daughter?"
"Hannah is most impressed with thy choice of bondmate."
T'Pau was becoming rather impressed with Tauril herself.
