The main problem that Spock faced was getting into Romulan Space. If either side sent a ship into the Neutral Zone, it was considered an act of war. Both sides of the zone were monitored by manned stations or unmanned sensor drones. The instant something entered, Starfleet would know.
Or at least that was what most people in the Federation believed. In truth, crafty merchants, smugglers, and pirates that were not allied with either side had been traveling undetected back and forth between the two systems since the day that the Zone had been created. Spock planned to take advantage of those lucrative businessmen in order to have a cover story if he was discovered.
There were a couple different ways to get across the Zone, but the easiest was to travel down a corridor that capitalized on old, failed equipment and ion storms to mask any vessel that made the journey. Spock plotted his course along that route.
The ship's computer sounded an alarm as he approached the edge. "Warning. Distance of one million kilometers to Neutral Zone. Alter course to avoid." Spock quickly canceled the alert.
As the ship slid silently across the border, he waited to see what would happen. Had he successfully managed to avoid the sensor platforms? Spock waited for a communication to come, ordering him back out of the zone, but there was nothing. He had successfully overcome the first obstacle in his journey; if only they would all pass this easily.
Left with little to do besides monitor the sensor readouts, Spock couldn't help but think about the person he was trying to save. He was still haunted by the memory of the conversation that he'd told Kirk about. It had happened soon before he finished his schooling on Vulcan. Saavik had been living with them for a few months, though was still settling in. She'd had a nightmare one night, and he had awakened to find her curled in the corner of his bedroom.
"What are you doing here?" he'd asked.
"No tell Osu and T'sai?" she'd made him promise.
"I will not say anything to my parents. What happened, Saavik?"
She looked away. "I see things."
"Where?"
Saavik pointed to her temple with one finger. "Here. When I sleep."
Now he understood. "You had a nightmare."
However, the ten-year-old shook her head. "Not nightmare. Real."
"If you were sleeping – "
"Saw before!" she insisted. "Dark and loud."
Spock frowned. "Before when, Saavik?"
"Before Vulcan. Before Shi'Kahr."
"Before you were brought here?"
She nodded. "Not much now…faded to dark. But voices still yell, and hands still hurt. I run, but they always there. Never stop."
He wasn't a healer or a psychologist, and had never dealt with anything like this before. His nightmares were products of his imagination, and could be dismissed as such. But hers…she had been through things he didn't want to imagine. "You are far away from there, Saavik," he assured her, hoping that he could calm her enough to get her back to sleep. He had been old enough to know that his next words were illogical, but his affection for the girl had won out over logic. "You will never return. This is your home now, and you are safe here."
She had, indeed, been able to return to sleep – but only if he stayed at her bedside. However, he would never forget that night. She always seemed so fearless, but he'd been allowed behind her defenses. He knew her well enough to be certain that she'd felt that fear again when the bounty hunters boarded their ship. Her face had only shown a quiet acceptance of the fact that this encounter would not end well, but he could see beyond that. Her expression had mirrored another that had been burned into his memory – his mother's face as she realized that the rocks beneath her feet were crumbling away, that the transporter wouldn't catch them in time. He'd been powerless on both of those occasions.
But there was still a chance for Saavik. As long as she was still alive, he had the opportunity to fix his mistake. He wouldn't let her down again, and maybe at the same time, he could start to make amends to the one he hadn't been able to save…
A few hours later, as the ship got closer to exiting the Zone, he could begin scanning the barely-mapped space on the Romulan side. While the computer compiled star charts, Spock pulled out the PADD that his father had given him and began to sort through the data.
It wasn't too difficult to extrapolate the course of the ship that had brought Saavik to Federation space as a child. The trick would be figuring out its original path from BEFORE it started drifting. Assuming it had been en route to Romulus, Spock created a projection of the course and overlayed it on the star chart that the computer was creating. The line ran straight through a small solar system that appeared to have at least one M-class planet. He began to program in a course.
It wasn't exactly a sure thing, but it was better than a 'needle in a haystack,' as Kirk was fond of saying. He had no proof that Saavik would be on any world in that system, but somehow just knew that it was true.
Physically and mentally exhausted, Saavik couldn't stop herself from falling asleep once the Centurion had finally left her alone. Battered and shamed, she curled up on the small cot in the corner of the room and welcomed unconsciousness.
Her mind retreated to the first safe place she'd ever known; she dreamed of Sarek and Amanda's home on the outskirts of Shi'Kahr. The sun was bright and warm, and she was sitting in the garden with Spock. He'd had something very important to tell her that day, news that she hadn't wanted to hear.
"But why cannot you attend the Science Academy?" her ten-year-old self had asked. She still hadn't quite mastered the language at that point, but had gotten much better with time and practice and an excellent tutor.
"They do not see me for who I am, Saavikam," Spock had replied. "Only for whom I am not."
She'd frowned, one eyebrow raised. "You always tell that it not matter what others think of us." He had said it to her that on many occasions, usually after having pulled her from some fight she'd gotten into because of a hurtful comment that was tossed her way. She had only recently started to take comfort in those words; all that was truly important was what she thought, or what he or Sarek or Amanda thought.
Spock sighed, aware that this was confusing for her. Truthfully, it wasn't much simpler for him, torn between his father's wishes and his own desires, but his mind was made up. "I know, but this is an exception," he told her. "I must prove to them – and myself – what I am capable of. I do not believe that this will be possible here."
Saavik considered that. "But do you must go to Earth? It is so far away."
"We can send subspace messages," he assured her. "And I will return here to visit when my schedule permits it."
That didn't go very far toward appeasing her concerns. "Who will check my homework done?" she asked.
"You will have to ensure that your assignments are completed on your own. Or you may ask my mother for assistance if you require it." That seemed reasonable enough, but she had more to resolve.
"Who will answer my questions?" was her next worry. Saavik was constantly asking him all kinds of things, from why the sky was orange to how Vulcans and Romulans had come to be two different species. Spock's unending patience for her insatiable curiosity was one of the reasons that she was beginning to do so well in school.
"You may send me a message each day with anything you want to ask," he promised. "I will respond the following day with your answers. Is that a satisfactory arrangement?"
Saavik slowly nodded, but she still wasn't finished. "Who will be my friend?"
Spock met her gaze. "I will always be your friend, Saavikam. Whenever you truly need me, I will always be available, no matter what the circumstance is or how great the distance between us."
She smiled slightly. "You were my first friend," she told him, as if that information was a secret that he hadn't already known. "I will always be your friend, too," was her solemn promise. "No matter circumstance or distance."
And she had meant it, more than she'd ever meant anything in her life. There, with him in Amanda's garden, nothing else in the galaxy mattered. They were two outcasts who had one little place where they belonged. Under the Vulcan sun, surrounded by alien flowers and plants and her truest friend, she was secure.
Saavik suddenly became aware that she was falling. Only half-awake, her uncooperative arms and legs were askew as she hit the ground. She wasn't in Shi'Kahr – the desert city was long gone. She was now in hell.
"Get up!" a voice barked, and she lifted her head to see the Centurion standing over her. Her shoes clattered down beside her face, sending dust into her eyes and nose.
"What now?" she asked as she stiffly rolled over and sat up.
The Romulan smiled and hoisted a rather impressive gun to his shoulder. "I will give you a five minute head start," he told her, indicating the doorway behind him with a tip of his head, "And then I'm going to kill you."
Saavik was frozen in shock for a long moment – too long. Precious seconds ticked away while her still-sleep-addled brain tried to process what was happening. Long-buried memories trickled to the foreground of her mind; she had sat in this complex and listened as a similar order was given so incredibly long ago, had watched as tiny starving savages fled for their lives in response, had heard gunfire and howling screams…
That was their end, she realized. Hunted down like animals as a last amusement for the guards before this world was abandoned. She had been saved from it then, but now she would have to face the fate that she should have had so many years earlier. And she'd be damned if she was going to go down without a fight.
Saavik stuffed her feet into her shoes (ignoring the laces) and ran as fast as she possibly could.
TBC...
A/N: Thanks for the feedback!
