Chapter Seven: Kal-if-fee

Michael was constantly worried about her little brother. She had done so since they were children. She remembered trying to run away with him, so that the Logic Extremists would not hurt them. They'd been lost for days, only surviving because of Spock's vast knowledge of the forest near their home.

The Logic Extremists had tried to kill him then. Now, they were trying to force him to marry T'Pring. Michael was certain that Spock would prefer death.

Michael knew Spock was in love before he did. They had a weekly chess game over subspace communications while she was on Discovery and he was at the Academy. These games were normally very quiet, just telling the other their piece movements and some idle chatter about their week.

That changed abruptly, when Spock came through on a cleaner comm channel. He boasted- actually boasted- about a brilliant young student in his Advanced Phonology class, his teacher's aide. She had fixed up his comm channel.

From then on, their weekly games were filled with Spock talking about Nyota Uhura. How intelligent she was. How he was teaching her the ka'athyra and she was taking to it like a natural. How she had taught him to play racquetball and he'd broken the ball in their first game.

The only word Michael could use to describe Spock at the time was what their mother would call 'twitterpated'. It didn't seem like a very Vulcan word, but it certainly described him.

She remembered how nervous he was when he finally realized his feelings. How she tried to push him to tell Nyota the truth.

She knew her brother. She knew that he wouldn't have opened his heart up to Nyota unless he planned to remain with her. And now Nyota had to fight- to the death- for that right.

Michael dropped her hand to her side, putting her phaser away. She reached out and took a hold of Spock's hand. Spock took hold of her hand and squeezed it tightly.

He was terrified.

T'Pring got the chance to change out of her wedding clothes into something for fighting. Why were they delaying so long? Were they hoping that Nyota would just drop dead before T'Pring had the chance to fight?

While waiting for T'Pring, Nyota pulled at her Starfleet uniform. She was uncomfortable with the fabric. The heat of her Pon Farr and the oppressive temperature on New Vulcan was making her shine with sweat. She finally grabbed the zipper of her dress and worked it down, shedding it. She was left in her regulation undershirt and shorts. The fabric of both was sticking to her perspiration-slicked skin.

After far too long, T'Pring returned in a bodysuit, already holding her lirpa.

T'Pring and Nyota began to circle each other. T'Pring took the first hit, Nyota knocking the hard weighted end of the lirpa into T'Pring's stomach. She jolted back, but remained on her feet.

T'Pring slashed her blade at Nyota, cutting a hole in her shirt, but missing the skin. Spock's hand jerked in Michael's and he held onto her tighter.

She's doing okay, Michael tried to tell him mentally. Maybe he would hear her with their hands touching. The Blood Fever doesn't seem as bad the more they fight.

Spock calmed down slightly as Michael's words seemed to reach him. Still she could feel the waves of anxiety coming off of him, in a way it never had before.

The pair continued to circle each other, meeting their lirpas, the sound of wood against wood echoing against the rock formations. T'Pring was not a natural fighter, but she had been trained in Suus Mahna. All of her movements were logical, precisely thought out.

But Nyota had been trained in Vulcan martial arts as well. That was another activity Spock had done that he had told Michael about in his version of 'gleeful'. Michael was fairly certain it was an excuse to get physically close to the young cadet in a socially acceptable way. She was also an accomplished military officer with plenty of Starfleet training and experience.

The pair locked their lirpas together, fighting for dominance. Nyota kicked T'Pring back, but T'Pring then swung the bladed end of the lirpa at Nyota, missing her by centimeters.

"Ambassador," Kirk whispered in her ear. "This isn't right."

"We have to go along with this," Michael replied. "It's Vulcan tradition"

"No, I get that," Kirk sighed. "But look at the way Uhura is fighting."

Kirk was right. Nyota kept using the blunt end of lirpa, battering T'Pring away rather than slashing at her. A Vulcan wouldn't hesitate to go for killing blows. It was the only logical course of action in the Kal-If-Fee.

But Nyota was no Vulcan. She had a human heart. A heart that didn't want to kill. Michael fought to mask her worries. As long as she held Spock's hand, she couldn't let her emotions get to her. He couldn't realize that Michael didn't know if Nyota could win.

Then, came the slash.

Nyota cried out as she took the sharp end of the lirpa to her cheek, rich red blood sliding down her dark skin. She jumped back and brought her hand to the wound, dragging her fingers through it. She then brought them to her mouth and licked the blood away.

Something seemed to snap in Nyota. She ran and leapt at T'Pring, kicking hard. Her boot connected with the lirpa, snapping it in half, causing T'Pring to drop it. Nyota's foot connected with her chest, knocking T'Pring backwards.

Nyota threw her own lirpa aside. She picked up the broken pieces of T'Pring's in both hands. If she wasn't swinging the weighted end, she was swinging the sharpened end. She was using them like extensions of her hands.

There was a sharp intake of breath beside Michael. She looked over at Spock. His face had gone green with blush and his eyes were glassy.

Watching Nyota fight had caused him to sink into the Plak Tow. She could see any logical sense drain from him. Only the ancient rites of ritual combat kept him from leaping into the fray and taking Nyota right there.

T'Pring grabbed her ahn woon, whipping it at Nyota. When that did not deter the lieutenant, T'Pring used it to wrap around what remained of the wooden hilt on the blade end of the lirpa.

Nyota snarled ferally yanking her arm back to pull T'Pring along with her. She savagely hit T'Pring in the side with the weight. T'Pring's back arched and she let out a cry.

With the Vulcan in distress, Nyota continued to pummel her with the weight, adding in kicks to keep T'Pring off balance. Finally, a kick to the face had T'Pring flat on her back. Nyota jumped on top of T'Pring, pinning her down with a knee to the chest.

Nyota threw the weighted half of the lirpa aside. She put both hands on the bladed end. She raised it high.

T'Pring raised her head, her breath coming out hard with Nyota's weight on her. "You would marry a legend?"

Nyota took a deep breath. She stared down at T'Pring, shaking, all of her effort put into that single moment. Her lip curled as she finally found words: "I... Would... Be... One..."

The blade came down. Michael flinched away, unable to watch as Nyota ended T'Pring's life.

But then, as she turned back, she saw Nyota had buried the blade into the ground, just millimeters from T'Pring's head.

She rose on trembling feet and turned to Spock. She began to walk towards him.

Spock let go of Michael's hand and raced to Nyota. She fell into his arms. He cupped her face and kissed her desperately. He then nuzzled her face where she was wounded, licking her tenderly.

Michael's eyes widened as she saw T'Pring rising from the ground. Where before there had been no emotion, there was anger. She snatched up the lirpa Nyota had abandoned. She started charging.

Before Michael could even yell out, Spock was moving. He grabbed the lirpa and wrestled T'Pring back to the ground. He wrapped his hand around her neck and began to squeeze.

Without Spock supporting her, Nyota hit the ground. As if working by telepathy, Michael, Kirk and McCoy knew what to do. Michael and Kirk ran to Spock, wrestling him off of his former betrothed. McCoy ran to check on Nyota.

When T'Pring made a move to attack again, Michael pulled out her phaser once more, training it on her.

Kirk struggled to hold Spock back. "It's over, T'Pau! Uhura won the fight!"

"It is a fight to the death," T'Pau replied imperiously.

"Hasn't Vulcan seen enough death?" Kirk struggled to keep Spock subdued. "Uhura spared T'Pring. Spock won't. He'll never marry her. You'll just end up with two dead Vulcans and a dead human... and a lot of trouble from Starfleet."

McCoy nodded. "And that would be a damn fine way for the Vulcan race to continue on."

T'Pau appeared unmoved by the pleas. Michael huffed out an annoyed breath. She had tried to respect the culture she had been raised in, but she had been pushed too far. She let go of Spock and rose, turning her phaser onto T'Pau. "Honoured elder, I would really reconsider."

T'Pau remained calm. "Stunning me will leave thee without someone to perform the bond."

Michael calmly reached to her phaser and upped the setting. "Who said anything about stunning? Now marry my brother to his fucking bondmate."

T'Pau's gaze went over the chaos of the Kal-If-Fee: The nearly unconscious human, deep in the blood fever because of an incomplete bond. The murderously angry Vulcan man, desperate to protect her and kill the one he should have bonded with. The only one who should have had any logic left, attacking her opponent outside of ritual combat.

T'Pau rose from her chair finally, walking to the ceremonial gong. "Bring them to me."

There was fire everywhere. His blood burned with the heat of his fever. His anger seared him as his mate was threatened.

His vision was hazy. There were hands on him. But they were the wrong hands. They weren't his mate's.

"Come on, buddy," he heard dimly. His friend. "Don't want to be late for your own wedding."

Something was pressed into his hand. A mallet. He swung it and heard the sound. It filled his ears. The signal of the bonding. His heart soared as he heard an answering ringing. The sound that his bonding was reciprocated.

He couldn't see her. But he slumped forward, wrapping his arms around the small figure he knew to be in front of him. He needed her close. He needed her mind, body and soul to be a part of him.

If there were words spoken, he could not remember them.

He felt the touch of fingers to his cheek and he closed his eyes. Then, the fires were soothed by a calming breeze flowing through him. There was something in his mind that had not been there before, but had somehow always been a part of him. Something that had been missing his entire life, but was vital to his very being.

"Nyota," he croaked out. She was there. She was inside of him and he was inside of her and they would never leave each other.

Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched.

When he opened his eyes, he could see again. But all he could see was her. She was the only thing in his eyes, in the world.

He touched her face and spoke to her, but the words did not come out of his mouth. He reached across their bond.

K'diwa.

K'hat'n'dlawa.

Ko-telsu.

Adun'a.

He knew he was being moved. But he didn't care. She was coming with him. She would always be with him.

They were alone finally. Just them. Their bond was all that mattered. The mental bond strengthened as they began the act of their physical bond. He could feel the fires begin to recede.

The search for logic seemed so inadequate. The only true peace in the galaxy was in her arms.