The Sarpeidon Chronicles

Part 6 Chapter 5

Spock and his younger son sat facing each other across his detention cell's tiny desk. There, Kai had set up an antique chess set that covered nearly its entire surface.

"Grandfather sent it for you," he explained to his father as he removed the pieces one by one from a cloth-lined box and handed them across the desk. "He thought you could use it to pass the time, though he acknowledges that suitable opponent s may be scarce."

"There are advantages to studying the game in a purely objective manner."

"The workmanship is commendable." Spock turned over a pawn in his fingers. The figurine was costumed as a Vulcan warrior of old, complete with lirpa held close to his armor-covered torso. "I must confess my surprise that Embassy security allowed me to receive it."

"Grandfather obtained the necessary clearances, and Mother consulted Federation guidelines on the matter," Kai said proudly. "By law, you are forbidden only automated and cybernetic devices. Gifts that serve a purely aesthetic or sentimental function are permitted."

"I see." Spock placed the pawn on the board. Zarabeth would have found the 'sentimental' clause ironic, he thought. Of every detainee who had ever slept within these impenetrable walls, Spock had no doubt that he was the least sentimental. Nonetheless, she would have forged ahead with her plan. As he had so many times in the past, he paused to admire his wife's persistence, misguided though it might often be.

"How fares your mother?" he asked finally, while Kai continued to assemble the chess pieces.

"Tolerably well. All of us do what is necessary to make our days productive. Lidia has adopted several new amphibious specimens. They keep her busy now that she is not teaching...except for supervising my studies, of course. Adonia informs us that the Wellfleet will reach Gamma Aurelius in another day or so. We have had no word of Jarrod, though that is of course understandable, given the circumstances."

"Quite true. You-and your mother-should keep in mind that we heard from him infrequently in any case."

"Mother says that it is her nature to worry incessantly. It seems to me an impractical trait to retain, given the present circumstances."

"Nonetheless, she is unlikely to change at this stage of her life."

Kai scowled. "Father...is it true that you are prepared to spend the rest of your life in custody? Away from all of us?"

"If the Federation Council demands it, I will have no choice. It would therefore make little sense for me not to accept the possibility."

They looked up as an Embassy security guard returned to his position outside the cell. He seemed to purposely make as much noise as possible while he approached, as if to alert them to his presence out of courtesy. Not so long ago, these same officers had been under his command. They were still uncomfortable with, even embarrassed by, the abrupt change in his status. In some ways, Spock thought, his own family had adjusted to it better.

"Excuse me, Ambassador. Time is almost up," the guard said, flushing slightly. He looked at Kai. "Your mother is here for you."

"He will be along shortly," Spock said. Nodding, the guard withdrew-temporarily, they both knew.

Kai stood. "I look forward to a chess match when you are released, Father."

"As do I."

"Grandfather says your current predicament is very much like a chess game. It's simply a matter of situating the appropriate players in the appropriate positions."

"In this case he may well be correct."

The boy's hand strayed over the board, to the rows of pieces now set up in their proper positions. From the third level he removed the king, carved in the likeness of a familiar historical figure. His eyes met his father's with sudden, unusual intensity.

"When faced with such dilemmas, Grandfather advises you to turn your full concentration to the powers of Surak. Through him, one may know and hear all. That is his message to you in this time of crisis."

Frowning, Spock followed the child to his feet and accepted the chess piece from him. He began to say one thing, then stopped and changed his tone entirely.

"You may tell Grandfather that I will consider his advice very carefully."

Kai nodded as the guard ushered him out and reactivated the force field. At the end of the long corridor that led to the detention block, Spock glimpsed Zarabeth waiting for their son. Banned from his cell at T'Rhan's official request, she could observe him only from a distance and communicate with him only through a third party.

Perhaps that was for the best, at least for the moment. If he were to go to prison, perhaps for the rest of his long life, it would only be logical-and kind-to free her. She would survive the loss of him, just as she had survived many other, and far more painful, losses.

Still, he remembered her stricken expression when he had told her, the night before it happened, that his arrest was imminent. Perhaps it was the same devastated look she had worn when the news of her family's capture had reached her.

While they stood, looking at each other from across that sterile stretch of hallway, Spock reached out cautiously with his mind. He tried to reassure her of a satisfactory resolution he only half expected himself.

But her face never changed, and he could not tell if she received his message.

Gamma Aurelius was still a distant point on the Wellfleet's long-range scanners when they found the smaller craft floating aimlessly toward them.

"Starfleet records identify it as the Kraken, a trading vessel commandeered from the colony at Anubis VII a month ago," Adonia informed the rest of the bridge crew after consulting the viewer at her station. "It appears to be disabled. No shields, no warp signature."

"And not cloaked," Taylor mused. "Odd, if it was confiscated by the Romulans."

"A decoy, Admiral," the tactical officer suggested. "Or a trap."

"Possibly." Taylor rubbed her hands together in thought. "What do our scans show?"

"No life forms aboard-dead or alive. It would appear that all systems on board are down, including life support."

"Perhaps the craft malfunctioned and they were forced to abandon it," Adonia suggested.

"We'll know soon enough." Taylor motioned to her tactical officer. "Arm a team and go over there. Keep a channel open at all times so we can beam you back at the first hint of trouble."

"Yes, Admiral."

The next few minutes passed slowly, even painfully, as the bridge crew waited, saying little. While the chronometer ticked, Taylor kept a close watch on Adonia, who bent over her work and didn't look back.

Finally the com buzzed.

"On screen," Taylor ordered.

Tactical Officer Klass appeared, encased in life-support armor. "We have confirmed that there is no one on board, Admiral," he reported. "We've located supplies that appear to have been looted from Gamma Aurelius, but whoever took them has abandoned ship for reasons unknown. I'm retrieving the log, but it hasn't been updated in weeks."

"No surprise there. Pirates and insurgents generally don't keep detailed records of their activities."

"Agreed." Klass paused and tilted his head. The bridge crew heard a garbled sound as another member of his team relayed a message via the earpiece inside his helmet. Klass murmured his acknowledgement and looked up. "We've found a possible clue, Admiral. There seems to have been unusually heavy activity in the Kraken's sickbay. It's a small area-and it's a shambles. It's as if they were looking for something. Whether they found it or not, we can't say. We'll continue to search."

"Very well. Keep the channel open and report in fifteen minutes."

"Aye, sir." Klass stepped out of view, though they could still see the deserted interior of the Kraken's darkened bridge. Somehow, Taylor suspected, they would find no definitive answers there.

The Wellfleet would reach Gamma Aurelius in another fourteen hours. They would know more, much more, then.

But the waiting wasn't getting any easier.

Zarabeth, her son and daughter sat glumly around the dinner table until late in the evening. They spoke little as they poked at their vegetables. The house seemed abnormally quiet in other ways, too.

"Adonia was correct," Lidia ventured at last. "This was my fault."

"That's not true," Zarabeth said.

"Of course it is. I brought Selyk into this house. It was because of me that Father involved himself in this sordid business. And it's my fault no one will believe him now."

"How could any of us have known what Selyk was planning? He may not have known it himself at the time. We should be grateful for one thing-that you didn't actually marry him."

Lidia's face colored as she deliberately flattened a thick red legume with the back of her spoon. "Your forgiveness is welcome, Mother, though I maintain that I do not deserve it."

"I just find it grotesque." Zarabeth turned away from them and looked out the window, her eyes misting. "Your father is willing to sacrifice everything for the same Federation that calls him a traitor. I don't see how they could possibly believe it."

"The truth will come out," Kai said. "The odds favor it. Grandfather said as much."

Zarabeth nodded. At least Kai wouldn't mind taking refuge with Sarek when all of this was over and everything they cherished-their home, their future, and most of all, Spock, had been taken away for good.