1Disclaimer: Star Trek is not mine

Chapter Five

"Chief, you don't have to do this," Morlin insisted. "We're telling the truth!"

"Then why do you resist?"

"Because a week in the Caves, especially after his injury, could kill Spock!"

"Oh, is that his name? I was beginning to wonder. But if he cannot survive, then he is too weak to deserve to live."

"And what of me, father?"

"You will not address me in that manner. You were cast out of the royal family."

"Your blood still flows in my veins. Would you kill your own over a slight misunderstanding? If we both die, you will never know if we were telling the truth."

"If you both die, it will not matter if you are telling the truth."

"True, but then you will never know if my village is your ally or your enemy," Spock said, speaking for the first time. Now that he had heard more villagers speak, he could imitate their rough way of talking, their strong accent. "You yourself said you knew nothing of the other side of the planet. Furthermore, if you kill me, my kindred may come seeking revenge for my death. And our weapons are more powerful than you know."

"Do not threaten us!" the Chief said harshly. "You are in our power. But I can well believe your advanced weapons. It might not be so if some of us spent more time fighting and less exploring."

"And if more of us spent more time exploring and less time fighting, we could learn about people rather than destroying them. And as we learned together, the whole planet could improve - together!"

The Chief looked uncertain for a moment, but then his face hardened. "It was a nice try, Morlin," he admitted, "but my mind has not changed."

The warriors roughly dragged Morlin and Spock to their feet and tied their hands behind their backs. Unfortunately, as they were doing so, one warrior noticed a place where Spock's glove had ripped a little.

"Chief!" he called. "Come here!"

---

The doors opened. "Have a look," McCoy said, gesturing to the computers.

But Turita's attention was drawn immediately to the viewscreen. "What is that?" he asked.

"That is your planet."

"What? It looks so . . . small."

"It is small, Turita, compared to the vast galaxy. We're in orbit around it, so it looks even bigger than it really is."

"What do you plan to do?"

"Find Spock, return you to your village, and then leave."

"Why was he down there in the first place?"

"He was . . . observing your culture. It's like none we've ever seen."

"Though you do resemble Vulcans in appearance," Chekov added. It was mostly true. The boy's skin was a little darker from long exposure to the sun, and his hands had only three fingers, but the eyebrows and the ears were very familiar. His clothes were loose and made of natural materials, but in his face was the same discipline of Spock's people.

"What's a Wulcan?" Turita asked, confused by Checov's accent.

"Vulcan," McCoy corrected. "It's what Spock is."

"What are you?"

"Human."

"People from two planets working together?"

"Oh, yes. Even more than two."

"We can't even get all the people on one planet to work together."

"Earth was like that once. Different countries were always attacking each other."

Turita paused for a moment. "Where's the Captain?"

"He and our engineer are working on some air tanks in case we have to beam down to the surface."

"Why?"

"Humans can't survive in your atomsphere. It's too thin. That's why we sent Spock."

"I need to talk to him," Turita said. "I have a plan."

Bug, Vulcan of Central Park–ooooh, is that what you meant by dividers? Oops. :)

Lady Chekov–Why, thank you. I try to make my last lines suspenseful.