Kirk stood useless and frustrated in the garden at Spock's home. He was tired of the feelings, and angry at himself for having them at all when so many others faced worse than he did.
But that didn't change how he felt. Since he was not a doctor, he was no help in finding a cure for the disease, and since he wasn't Spock or Sarek, he no longer dealt with finding outside sources for it. His earlier work with the Ambassador ended in aggravation three days ago because of the classified background information. And I'm no help when I can't know the why behind all this.
Which led to the different annoyance that McCoy and Spock had once more kept secrets from him. I thought we were past that -- after Sybok. Confidential details, of course, were one thing -- he understood that -- but his closest friends kept him dumb to the fact that the hybrids, outside of Saavik, existed at all, and the fact that they were warned of the disease years ago.
He heard faint sounds from inside the house and made out the grandfather clock's soft, deep caroling. He spared another glance at Vulcan's setting sun and the diminishing aura of heat on the desert, all framed by his spot in the garden. Always such a unique place, this home. Here he stood surrounded by lushness in the form of plants mixed in artfully with the white, cleansed sand and meditation stones, all the while having the desert beauty in front of him. So much more to come home to than an empty apartment on San Francisco's bay.
He clenched his teeth together, pushing off his self-pity, and was saved by the chime from a comm station. He dove back into the house and hurried down the hallway to the livingroom. The staff usually here to help manage Sarek's estate were dismissed for the evening, and Kirk bet the call was the one he was waiting for anyway. He grabbed the large, wooden rocking chair and pulled it up to the station. He answered the continuing chime, hoping it was really was -- finally -- his return call.
The seal for Starfleet Command appeared first, then faded into the receding, thin gray hair and dark brown eyes of Paul Michan, an old buddy from their early days in Starfleet. Poor Paul. He went gray at thirty, and he'd shave off his beard since he swore it made him look older, but his wife loved it too much. "Jim, I'd say I'm glad to hear from you if your message didn't say you wanted a favor. Your favors always scare me."
"Nothing so dramatic this time. Just information. You're one of the people in charge of the Cartwright investigation, aren't you?"
"Oh, but this is nothing dramatic. Yeah, I'm one of the lucky ones."
"Then this is what I need." He explained the problem behind the conflicting orders regarding Saavik's transfer, leaving out the personal letters sent to her and Spock. He put his request succinctly and backed it up with what he knew. The rest he needed from Cartwright's records.
Michan sat flabbergasted. "Jim, c'mon. You're kidding -- right? I have Command and the Federation Council huffing down my neck while my people go through Cartwright's records, and I'm supposed to put the official investigation on hold while I looked into someone's botched transfer?"
Put like that... but Kirk was determined to get at the truth. "What if I reminded you--"
"If you're bringing up the time you saved my life, forget it. It was your fault I got into that situation to begin with. And stuff the talk about our long friendship too. You only bring that up when you want something."
"Okay, Paul, how about this? Your daughter's entering Starfleet, isn't she? Most likely with your stern lecture in her ear about behaving in the manner of an officer. What if I told her about your conduct as an officer? Starting with how we met on shore leave and you ended up naked in--"
Paul shook his head angrily, and then grinned. "You bastard, Jim. It's too quiet around here without you. Look, we both know I was going to do this and was just waiting to see how cleverly you bagged me into it. I'll see what I can do." He signed off.
It wasn't much, Kirk thought, but at least he did do something. With a sigh aimed mostly at himself, he glanced around the comfortable room with its mixtures of cultures from Sarek's and Amanda's missions, mostly Vulcan and Terran naturally. He leaned back in his seat, but the rocking chair put him in mind of his great-grandfather on the porch of the family farm. He bolted up and went outside.
The street out front, curling away from the house, and what neighboring homes he could see were all empty. Everyone was busy with something except for him. Even with the decreased heat, his shirt was plastered to his back, and the slightly increased gravity was pulling at his muscles; at least the trio-ox compound kept him breathing freely. He grinned ruefully at himself. The older, slighter Amanda breezed around with no problem while he stood here a sweaty mess.
He went back inside and took advantage of the water shower Sarek built for Amanda decades go. Kirk let the water flow over him, some of his tension slipping away with it as his mind buzzed over what to do now. Maybe getting a copy of Cartwright's records so he could research all this himself -- but that wasn't going to happen.
He toweled himself off and redressed, and then stopped to look at the small collection of Amanda's holographs: Amanda holding a baby Spock, and one taken a year ago of Spock and Sarek, blissfully ignorant of Amanda with a camera as they discussed something. Shaking his head again at himself, Kirk headed for the kitchen, thinking he'd at least get dinner ready in case anyone was breaking from the hospital.
Spock almost collided with him in the hallway, and he started in surprise. He hadn't seen the Vulcan all day since coming back from the Science Academy, having bored himself to death by getting underfoot.
"What are you doing back this early?" he asked.
Spock replied with his own question. "Captain, if you will follow me?"
Kirk wondered what had happened now to cause that somber voice as they crossed to Amanda's and Sarek's home office. Spock pulled a chair from his mother's desk across the room and brought it to his father's. He activated the computer station, rapidly accessing the Vulcan Science Academy at a level of security that amazed Kirk. The steps Spock went through blurred in front of him before the Vulcan finally stopped at one last level and turned in his chair to face his former captain.
"I know it has bothered you to be outside of this project," he said with no preamble. "I appreciate what that has meant and your efforts to help despite the restrictions put on you. You must understand the hybrids represent more than themselves, including the political ramifications of their rescue. Because of all you have done for Vulcan in general and my family in particular, you have been given clearance to the classified data. The report I am giving you contains the information we have, including the rescue mission to their homeworld and the facts I gathered later when I returned there."
"When you returned--? Was that the planet you went to because of the Romulan weapon? The one that neturalized oxygen?" Where was his mind nowadays! Back then, he had been so despondent over once more being pushed into the admiralty -- even if he had reluctantly agreed to it to save the Enterprise -- he had paid scant attention to anyone else involved in that mission outside those he knew well. Now it made sense. One of Spock's protégés gave information that led his ship to the source for the weapon that almost destroyed Starfleet Command. All of Earth was the Romulans' next target, most likely Vulcan after it, and on to the next planet until the Federation crumbled.
But with all the talk of Romulan hybrids and secrecy, why hadn't he remembered that mission sooner? Especially with Saavik involved in it? Admiral Niagara himself left a glowing note in her record, commending her for her part in all of it.
He scoured his mind for details from those mission reports even as Spock completed the last security clearance. He pushed away, giving Kirk room to get closer to the screen. He first saw Spock's name amongst the others, including Sarek and the pediatrician Salok. The content directory included a summary, a timeline, medical reports, and an involved account that would take hours for him to read. For now, he brought up the summary.
Seeing his ship's name jolted him. Spock listed an event where the Enterprise saw a small ship chased by Romulan cruisers. The sole occupant was transported to Sickbay badly burned and injured, and dying immediately afterwards. Spock took leave for Vulcan, listing reasons such as contacting the dead woman's family.
That's all Kirk thought it was.
Now he saw Spock had mind melded with the woman whose name was T'Pren. She gave him the vital information that Vulcans and children were dying on a failed Romulan colony world called Thieurrull -- translation, Hellguard. Giving someone that message was T'Pren's reason to hold on to life when death dragged her eagerly towards itself. Spock took her message and brought it to Vulcan, organizing a rescue team for the people on Hellguard.
Here the summary backtracked to an abbreviated timeline, bullet listing the events and cross-indexing them with the extensive accounts further in the report. He stuck with the short list for now.
'During a period of fifteen years, we lost four ships -- the Criterion, Perceptor, Constant, and Diversity – with no word and no trace. The crews, a total of five hundred and fifty six of our people, were presumed dead as their families experienced breakings in bondings.'
'As discovered later – see cross-reference 3.12.44 – Romulan scientists discovered a way to…'
"Dear god." Kirk's heart froze and landed in his stomach where its renewed beating stirred nausea to add with his horror. Now he understood the secret behind the Romulan hybrids, why – as Spock said – they meant more than just themselves.
'… discovered a way to tamper with our internal chemistry to cause pon farr outside of the seven-year cycle. The victim was then matched with a Romulan who took advantage of the condition. From this violation, a hybrid child was conceived and born. Some victims immediately committed suicide; the Romulans killed others, but evidence showed many still lived abandoned in the failed colony.'
He raised his eyes to Spock's. "Did you find any alive? The Vulcans, I mean."
Spock's answer was heavy. "No. All were gone."
"All five hundred of them?"
"Yes, although we did not find many of their bodies... then."
Then? But he stuck with his first train of thought -- better that than to go off on tangents and forget his questions. "So no Vulcans, but instead the unexpected thirty-three hybrids the Romulans created."
"No known records account for how many hybrids existed before the Symmetry team landed. The thirty-three were survivors. Their presence, however, was told to me by T'Pren. We knew to expect them, although not everything about their condition. After some discussion--"
Kirk almost chuckled, but the circumstances made laughter of even the smallest degree a disgrace. "I know those words. You use them whenever Bones and I bully you with illogic or you stubbornly insist on getting your own way. The rescue team didn't want to do what you wanted, correct? And you resorted to some trick to get it."
But Spock didn't respond to this low level teasing, and Kirk soon learned why. "You would not think it to see them now, but no one from Symmetry recognized the children as Vulcans. The shock of discovering the events on Hellguard clouded many of their judgements. The original plan was to take the survivors to our research station at Gamma Eri."
"And you thought that wrong."
"And I thought that wrong. Therefore, after some discussion, it was agreed to recognize the abandoned children as Vulcans, entitling them to a genetic scan to find their families so they may provide a home. Of the thirty-three hybrids, twenty-nine ordered the genetic scan, one decided against it but chose to study the Vulcan disciplines without her family, and three chose no contact with Vulcan at all. The latter four were placed under the planet's foster care system, and they all lived offworld. One male was adopted two years later. All the details for each survivor is in their records."
One decided against it but chose to study the Vulcan disciplines without her family. Saavik. Had to be.
Kirk flipped to the individual records, seeing Salok's medical statistics and the annual accounts – more if deemed necessary – on each hybrid's progress until adulthood. He flipped back to the summary.
'Due to a Romulan attack on Starfleet command, Spock, son of Sarek, traveled with Saavik – see Saavik, full account – to Thieurrull. A number of the missing bodies were discovered in an underground facility. Among these dead were skeletal remains for – presumably – hybrid children. All were used as test subjects for the weapon used on Starfleet Command. See recordings.'
Kirk remembered the bodies at Starfleet Headquarters, blotched and blackened in death, while he was trapped floors beneath them, staring impotently at those people for days. He didn't flip to the recordings.
'Accounts for other dead include ritual suicide by adults, and murders within the hybrids for survival. No explanation was found for why the Romulans considered breeding the children necessary or why the colony was then abandoned. The Empire denies all existence of the hybrids and any involvement in the deaths.'
'Due to the survival nature of their lives, the hybrids exhibited no value system. However, they were forgiven any offenses committed during their years on Thieurrull. These offenses include murder, rape, and cannibalism – usually committed by older children on the younger or weaker ones --'
Kirk swallowed hard. He once lived on the Tarsus IV colony where Kodos the Executioner, as the man was historically called, murdered 4000 colonists claiming lack of food to keep them alive. So Jim knew brutality from a young age, but this… raping each other, killing – eating each other – and knowing no other way to live…
He thought of the Saavik he knew and tried to imagine who she was on Hellguard. He failed.
And what jackass made sure the 'offenses' were spelled out anyway? Why not let it go?
Now he understood the classified standing on this information. Vulcans were raped – and he considered it rape even though the Vulcans were in pon farr. But it wasn't just avoiding prying eyes that made this report confidential. By taking Symmetry across the Neutral Zone, the Vulcans disregarded Federation law and the Interstellar Treaty with the Romulan Star Empire. And like Spock and the twelve other team members, Kirk didn't care about that. Sarek and Spock knew he didn't, and must have convinced everyone else of it or his security clearance never would have gone through.
But the Federation would care if it found out: 'political ramifications' – definitely a boatload of political ramifications – if this report and its contents became public.
He looked up at the Vulcan next to him. He didn't know what he looked like after reading just the little bit he had, but Spock was… deliberately composed. "I'll--" His mouth was dry. "I'll read the full thing later."
The other nodded. "I will set your security clearance so you may access it any time. Meanwhile, your help with Sarek's and my research into outside causes would be of great help, Captain."
"Spock, don't you think--"
"It is best to focus on the present rather than a past that cannot be changed. If this planet is not the source, we have other theories. The main one is the Romulans are responsible for the disease. Some healers and others on the Vulcan Council wonder if it was genetically bred into the hybrids, perhaps as a self-destruct mechanism. Another theory is the hybrids were bred to depend on a certain compound meant to be given regularly by their Romulan creators; having lacked it for so long, the hybrids are now dying. Some point out that Saa… that one particular person's career--"
"Her name is Saavik, Spock."
"-- has now led her into two direct confrontations with Romulan agents. These Romulans, learning that at least one survivor exists in Federation hands, are seeking to kill off their creations. None of these theories account for why she--"
"Spock, I started an investigation into Cartwright's records. We should know if he and Valeris are responsible for--"
"--Why she contracted the disease so much later than the others. What we do know is, Vulcan cannot find the cure as of the present and we lack information. We need to know if any records exist to prove these theories and if the Romulans have a cure. The Empire denies everything, as you read, Captain, despite evidence to the contrary. Records regarding the oxygen bioweapon did exist, however through the lieutenant's actions--"
"Dammit, stop calling her that! We may not know exactly what happened, but we know it's not Saavik's fault! You're clinging to this out of habit, not because it's the truth, can't you see that? And stop calling me captain."
Spock sat, everything he thought carefully kept out of his expression. He finally looked back at Kirk. "Retired Starfleet officers, as opposed to those that resign or lose their commission, keep their rank and may be called it with no offense. Even those officers who chose early retirement. My previous point was this: official channels will not ascertain the information we need."
Kirk held himself back from wringing Spock's neck. "What about the first thing I said?"
Spock stroked the computer controls quietly. "I saw her."
Kirk was surprised. "But that's good, Spock. What happened?"
One eyebrow rose. "She was sleeping. And I was reminded by one of the staff that visiting hours were over."
Dammit! "What would you have said?"
The second eyebrow rose to meet the first like a shake of the head against Fate's intervention. "I do not know. I did, however, see her condition is improving."
Kirk pushed ever so gently. "Are you going back?"
Spock carefully moved the items on his father's neatly organized desk and then straightened them again. "I do not know how to… express certain matters. Matters that will most likely upset her."
Jim remembered Spock's behavior after the letter arrived. That was going to be hard to tell and hear, even though he himself agreed with it at the time. Come to think of it, what was in that letter? Was Spock troubled over telling Saavik that too? "You'll think of a way. It only seems hard, but you'll see. You just – talk."
"Indeed?" Spock drawled, one eyebrow now angled at Kirk. "As you have on this mission?"
"What's that supposed to – oh." He rubbed his forehead, remembering how just moments ago he was ranting silently against the Vulcan and McCoy for keeping secrets. How he had let his frustration with retirement affect how he acted with the other two. "For god sakes, Spock, don't follow my lead when I'm acting like a five year old!"
"Dr. McCoy did say you were sulking."
"Don't listen to Bones either." He watched the Vulcan and saw how brittle he was. If I push him anymore, he might break. And he is trying. And still getting over what happened a month ago – just in time for this to happen. Valeris – and Spock thought he had given her everything she needed to use against them all.
"All right then--" Kirk went back to their main topic. Or rather, went along with Spock on leaving the difficult topic for now. And now his own frustration was gone. He had a purpose: to somehow get a contact into the Empire and find out if the Romulans wanted their hybrids dead. "—back to what we're going to do. Official channels are out -- that leaves us with unofficial channels. No surprise we have contacts along the Neutral Zone. The thing is, can any of them find what we're looking for? It's got to be buried pretty deep."
Spock nodded. "It will be difficult. And while we wait for news, we must investigate other sources. Extremist groups certainly exist within the Federation, and half-Romulans are a tempting target – if a prejudicial party discovered them. It is simple enough to ascertain if any such faction is claiming credit for the disease. More in depth investigation is needed to discover if they are responsible but wait to claim credit."
"That's if something on Vulcan isn't the cause." Kirk bit on his thumbnail and stared at the screen, seeing a game plan there on its blank surface. "So we move forward just in case. Like you said, making a cursory search through the hate groups will be easy. The in-depth research will take longer. Time to call in more favors in the Fleet. As for the Romulans--" He shook his head. "—this will take more than Bones' Romulan ale smuggler."
"Jim."
McCoy stood in the door, and Kirk's mouth dropped at the shocking sight of him. Dark circles gouged ruts under his eyes, and stubble grew on his jaw. That was nothing; the long hours at the hospital caused that. But his eyes were hollow and flat.
"We lost four more."
Spock got McCoy into a chair and disappeared, coming back with a brandy. The doctor took a swallow, and then just twisted the glass between his hands. "Thanks. But I'm not so bad off that I need a full glass. Yet. It's just that--" He banged a fist on Sarek's desk. "The treatments were working! We at least slowed down the phase's progression, and then, starting at three this morning, we lose four of them… one right after another." He glanced up at Spock. "I don't know if you want to know who. Zytka, Jalon, Nizar, and Pekhi."
"Pekhi?" Kirk asked. "Didn't I meet her?"
"Yeah. Her husband was the first one we met, remember? She was laying in the bed next to his."
"How's Vi'hai?"
"As well as a dying man can be whose wife just passed away before his eyes." The brandy sloshed in the glass from McCoy's rough handling. "He wanted to take her katra, but we were afraid he wouldn't bear up." He sighed. "Jalon's family never came. Nizar almost died alone too, but his wife came at the last minute. You should've seen his face when he saw her." He dragged a finger around the rim of the glass. "Thank god she showed."
"Bones--"
"I mean, they didn't die alone. Some friends came. And someone on the med team was always with them, so their katras weren't lost."
"Bones--"
"I know, I know. Doctors lose patients. And I'm not the only doctor on the team. But I really thought we had something. ...Or maybe I'm just feeling my time here counting down and I'm not doing enough." He shoved the glass away and laced his fingers together. "Some good news. Saavik is out of Phase I, not through anything we did, but she's out. She just left it like all the others."
Kirk looked over his head to Spock. He was quiet and listening.
McCoy appeared to be praying with the way he laid his folded hands on the desk. "Eleven dead total. Eleven. And we have no idea what to do to save the others."
"Bones, we'll figure something out."
"Yeah, I know, it's just -- I was the only human there today, so I thought I'd better get away since I was broadcasting my frustration to Sorel and the others. I can't disturb the whole team or the patients." He took a slow, cleansing breath while Kirk again checked with Spock who nodded. McCoy was broadcasting, but Spock was used to shielding against it, as would the Vulcan medical team. But the weakened patients most likely would have been bombarded by it. "At least the three other hybrids arrive tonight at the orbital station. Maybe we'll get a real break there and see what the difference is that's keeping them healthy."
Kirk noticed McCoy assumed they didn't have the disease.
"And Amanda just told me that Rrelthiz should be arriving sometime tomorrow night. So we have more help coming." He laid a hand out flat, stroking the desk's surface. "We're moving all the patients to the orbital station if these three check out okay, and we have a backup plan of putting the worst cases in stasis while we keep working on a cure. But... the best medical minds on Vulcan and what help I am -- and we only have twenty-two living patients left. It's not enough."
"You need a break, Bones. Let's get you something to eat--"
"No. This break was good enough. Srre, Sa'd, and T'Ahiyya are getting their stuff together for the orbital station. They'll test the three coming in. Tu'ong, Daniel, and I are backing up Sorel while they're gone. If nothing else, I'm going to pull my own weight."
Kirk threw an arm around his shoulders. "Then we'll head back to the hospital with you. Spock and I have work to do, and the resources at the Science Academy will be a big help."
Her name was Jdehn, born of Hellguard as its name translated to, formerly a ward of Vulcan's foster care system, pilot of her own ship and destiny, thank you very much.
She worked on a small glitch in her sensors on the Independent, an open panel before her with her hands in protective work gloves buried in her ship's innards. She listened to her two male companions, also of Hellguard, as they prepared to disembark on the orbital station. It was so odd to see them after all these years, and so... uncomfortable to be this close to them, enclosed in each other's company on the small ship. Except for maybe the tall, lanky one -- so quiet and sweet. How the hell did he ever survive with the rest of them?
A sharp, metal corner tore at her glove, nicking the skin beneath. She swore, and made herself focus. She never expected to see Vulcan and never wanted to. Even this station was too close. She didn't want someone or something making her feel cheated – unlike the big mouth in the main room. She didn't want to think about it, about anything Vulcan, and ignored any traits she felt she inherited. She could calculate in her head to the nanosecond how fast she traveled from one place to another, but insisted on using the computer instead. She could have had that Vulcan woman T'San show her how to use her telepathic senses all those years ago; instead, she had learned how to shield herself and nothing more. She never wore a chronometer, but knew exactly the time if she thought about it. So she never thought about it. If she weren't in danger of dying, she wouldn't be here.
Why was it getting to her so much? Why not just go out there and face the situation? The landing ramp was down, and the two men were just standing around waiting for her. The glitch in the ship could wait.
But she didn't go.
She saw the mechanical problem with the sensors, and leaned in closer to get a better look. She concentrated so hard, she didn't realize the two men were quiet now. And as she shoved her face into the open panel, she didn't see the dark figure stealing in from the shadows until it knocked her unconscious.