Leonard Nimoy,

One year has passed sine your passing. One year since the world was deprived of a great man. You were a man who fought for what, a man who brought to life an iconic character who inspired many, a man who had many friends and family who loved you and you loved right back, a man loved and adored by millions at first for Spock and then for himself. A year may have passed, but you have not been forgotten. You have left your mark, and you shall always live long and prosper.

Luca waited for the two soldiers to pass before daring to scurry across the window. During his escape, he managed to climb onto the outside of the building on the third floor. With the guards running around as they were, it had been impossible to move around inside. The ledge was thin and if he weren't a child, he would have fallen off. If Luca had escaped with shoes, it might have caused him to have fallen off as well.

He had been in gymnastics before all this, and the only way down was to get to the first floor was to drop to the lower. He hoped his fingers were strong enough to grab onto the thin ledge. Without much hesitation, he jumped. He got wall burn on his nose and chin, and his body slammed into the side of the wall when he grabbed on, but he managed to keep his hold. Glancing down for a quick second, he let go to fall the rest of the way down. He winced as his ankle twisted unpleasantly. Grinding his teeth, he took deep breaths and waited for the worst of the pain to edge off.

After a couple moments he stood. It didn't seem broken, but it hurt to put pressure on it, not that it made a difference. He had to keep going. He would keep going, twisted ankle or not.

He only made it 19 meters when he was grabbed from behind. "There you are you little punk."

As the sound of the unfamiliar male voice, Luca went into a panic, struggling with all his might, to afraid to scream or even breath.

The man growled, growing frustrated with Luca's attempts, "Stop moving. Your aunt's worried sick, and you've put the entire place on alert."

No, he was lying. The adults always lied to get what they want.

He was quickly descending into a panic attack, as his breathing continued to deteriorate, and his movements grew more and more desperate. He cried out mentally for Jim to help him. Jim promised he would come, he just had to scream. Just something, anything to get Jim's attention, but with his struggling and hyperventilating, he was losing consciousness.

Just as darkness took over most of his vision, the arms that held him dropped him, and Luca landed on his bad ankle. Luca shivered violently, unable to suppress it. Reality seemed to distorted, and he fought his way through his muddled thoughts of fear and panic.

Another set of hands grabbed him, and he was about to lash out when he paused at the familiar voice. "Luca, where's Kirk?"

He turned to look at Lieutenant Uhura. "I don't... I-I dunno," he choked out, tears in his eyes. "H-he didn't c-c-come."

"Come on Luca, you have to stay with me." She touched his cheek softly, brushing away his tears with her thumb. "Did you say Jim never came?" At the boy's nod, she bit her lip worryingly. "Alright, let's get you out of here." She helped him stand and directed him to their escape vehicle.

As she strapped him into the vehicle, he finally asked, "Where is he?"

Her dark eyes met with his and honestly replied. "I don't know."

He let out a sob which had Uhura looking around uneasily. "He left me."

"No, no, no," she assured, hurrying into the driver seat. After she closed the door and started the engine, she said. "He's still looking for you and Spock. I promise. You just beat him to it."

"So you're going to leave him?" he asked, eyes glancing at the door handle debating if he should jump.

"No, just moving. We won't leave him." Her hands tightened on the wheel. "We won't leave anyone, not even Decker."

Somehow, Luca managed a scowl despite his tear stained face. "We can leave that taHqeq."

At the Klingon word, the lieutenant smiled. "He'qab je."

Luca gave a small grin which he tried to muffle, but never the less said, "HIja."

Jim struggled carrying the heavy Vulcan throughout the seemingly endless corridor. There had been no doors or turns since entering the hallway, and Spock was barely moving his feet. The thought of Spock's condition had his anger bubbling to the surface. How dare they do this to him, to Spock. If he ever got his hands on them─

Spock flinched away from him violently, stumbling until Kirk grabbed a hold of him again. "Jim," he whispered hoarsely. "Your anger."

"Sorry. Sorry. Just give me a moment." Putting a lid on his anger was proving a challenge as most of him really didn't want to, but seeing Spock's distress, he closed his eyes and focused on projecting calm thoughts once again.

It took a minute before the calm settled in enough for Spock to touch him without discomfort. "Did they attack you telepathically?"

With a bare shake of his head, Spock leaned heavily on Kirk, though it appeared his feet were moving a bit faster. "My shields were already compromised." Spock struggled to stand upright on his own, determined to try to get himself functioning again. "I tried to block my pain receptors, but the task proved too taxing and my shields fell completely."

Anger started to rise to the forefront of Jim's mind once again, and Spock's hand gripped tight enough to bruise Jim's waist in response.

"They injected me with a substance as well. I believe it is further inhibiting my mental controls. I am uncertain if it was intentional or not."

"It doesn't matter if it was or not," Jim grinded his teeth. He felt Spock tense again. Frustrated he tried to clear his head of all thoughts, but the conversation was not helping his attempts to stay neutral. "I should have killed that thing back there."

"Jim . . . I caught glimpses of their world. It is similar to what you described on Tarsus and what we have witnessed on the colony, perhaps worse." Spock stopped and met with Jim's gaze the best he could. "They are trying to save their people from destruction. They truly believe you are the key to have stopped their societal collapse. They do not know that their attempts are futile."

Jim really didn't care what their reasons were. They killed people who were important to him. Destroyed the great man he could have been. Still, he could not help but ask, "What do you mean by it being futile?"

"Their home world is in the Trovas system."

It took a second for the name to ring a bell in Kirk's head before he recalled that two and a half years ago, a deep space probe had returned from the Trovas system. The data recorded stated that there were only remnants of planets left and no life forms. The debris was almost 300 years old.

"So you're telling me all those people died, and they ruined so many lives for a cause that didn't even exist?" Homicidal urges flashed across his thoughts. He should have killed them. He should have taken revenge. He should have…

"If you were to kill them, Jim, would the result be worth being the one to cause their extinction?"

"I can't overlook what they did."

"'Do whatever it takes to survive.' Were those not your words, Captain?"

Sometimes, Jim really hated Spock's perfect memory. "Can you keep going?" he asked, hoping to change the subject and stop his mental homicidal monologue.

"I believe my wounds have reopened."

A long string of curses escaped from under his breath.

"I believe we are going in circles. We have passed that smudge of dirt to your left two times previously."

Kirk threw a mock glare at his first. At least Spock seemed to be recovering slightly. He just hoped to have found a way out or something by now.

"There has to be some way out. They can't walk through walls . . . Teleportation maybe?" He wondered aloud. "Is there telepathy that strong?"

Spock shook his head. "Their minds are indeed complex. I have difficulty deciphering the images and emotions they inadvertently sent through their touch; however, I did not sense telepathic abilities from them. Nothing on the level that would be necessary for teleporting without the aid of a device."

"But in case that device malfunctions, there has to be a way in and out." He hadn't seen any switches. The walls had been perfectly smooth as far as he could tell. "Can you stand on your own?"

Spock nodded weakly, so Jim made sure he was steady before letting him go. His hands brushed against the wall, feeling for anything out of the ordinary. A crack, a pressure plate, anything that would help.

He seared the wall for about a meter when his hand grazed over a panel that lit up from his touch. A grin broke out as he turned excitedly to Spock. A part of the wall disappeared into a doorway, revealing a docking bay with a single egg shaped craft that glistened from the overhead blue tinged lighting.

Jim entered the hanger, quickly inspecting the surrounding area. Spock managed to walk on his own, though at a slowed pace. The human touched the craft, wondering how they were going to get inside when everything went black. Not black, more like faded away into nothing. Like a mirage or dream. And when reality set in before him again, Jim wanted to punch a wall.

They were back to where they started in their windowless, doorless cell with the two aliens before them.

"Well done, Captain. You are as resilient and intelligent as we predicted, though we expected you to figure out that you were going in circles sooner," Green Eyes stated.

"Perhaps the hunger and fatigue played a larger factor than we calculated," Blue Eyes commented. Jim was getting extremely tired of being talked about as if they weren't in the room.

"For the next experiment," Blue Eyes looked at both Spock and Jim respectively, "we shall allow you to determine who will come with us."

"Why don't you just choose yourself," Jim snapped. "We already chose last time."

"It is a part of the experiment," Green Eyes responded. "And last time you were incapable of stopping the Vulcan for choosing for you."

"If you are to go, Captain or Dr. Emmett, there is a 92 percent chance that you will go mad," Blue eyes comment. An image of an enlarge brain appeared before him, one area was black and a few were grayed out. The black area was what kept aggression in check as the grayed areas were various parts involving memory. "As you can see nothing fatal, but it would inhibit your ability to put a lid on your more violent emotions."

Jim also noted that the alien had crossed its arms, hand in the overly large sleeves, hiding them from view, before the image emerged.

"However, if the Vulcan comes with us to undergo the same experiment," Green Eyes continued, "there is a 72 percent chance of death."

"A Vulcan mind seems more susceptible to the experiments than a human one. It cannot be helped," Blue Eyes glanced over at its partner.

That wasn't much of a choice, and Jim was seething on the inside. It wasn't an option of course. He would never allow one of his crew to be put in a life and death situation like this. Whether madness or death was better, he didn't know, but he wouldn't let someone else make that decision.

He felt Spock's presence beside him. "Jim, a word."

Spock had his hand lifted just above Jim's psi points, asking permission. It made sense to use a meld to convey their conversation. They had even melded a couple times during missions before, but Jim felt weary of it. He didn't want Spock to find out how gruesome his feelings were first hand. Through touch was one thing, directly from his mind was another.

"It will be light," Spock said as if sensing Jim's reluctance. Given the situation, it was only logical for Jim to concede to his will. With a brief nod, he gave his permission.

He felt Spock's fingers, slightly cold and trembling, touch his face and the light brush of the Vulcan's mind. The meld was dangerous, Jim picked up from Spock's thoughts. The Vulcan's mental state was much worse than he had let on. His control over the meld was sloppy. It was a disgrace to have allowed this to happen.

Spock realized he was letting his private thoughts slip into Jim's mind. The control stabilized, but even Jim could feel the struggle.

I apologize, Jim, but this the only way without being overheard.

Don't worry about it now Spock. In any case, I already made up my mind. I'm going.

I must disagree. If you were to go, then our chance of escape will be nearly zero. I do not have the creativity that you have and my cognitive functions are far below optimal. Your mind however, is still sharp. As you come up with 98 percent of our escape plans, it has to be you.

I won't let you be some self sacrificing bastard, Spock.

Warmth touched Jim's mind. It felt warm and safe, a feeling he hadn't felt in a long, long time. Then I trust you will find a way before it comes to that.

Naturally, Jim wanted to protest, scream that Spock was being insubordinate and had to follow his commands, but Jim was already falling into unconscious, put there by Spock's meld.

You will wake in exactly fifteen minutes. Jim heard Spock say. Jim was forming a response when the world fell away and his mind finally quieted.

When Jim awoke, Spock was indeed gone. He'd really have to talk to Spock about employing underhanded methods against him. Maybe he taught Spock to embrace his human side too much.

"That's some loyal first officer you got yourself there." Emmett said, gaining Jim's attention. "He looked like shit and still didn't hesitate to knock your ass out to go himself."

"No one asked for your opinion," he replied back coldly.

"You left me here during your first escape attempt. You didn't think there'd be hard feelings?"

"You did try to kill me." Jim stood up and inspected the wall he had previously escaped from. As he thought, it was no longer there.

"I don't think you have the right to judge me given the circumstances," she approached him and Jim kept his front to her.

"I don't judge you for it, but I personally would have rather died than resort to certain things."

She clicked her tongue. "From your history, I doubt there were few things you wouldn't have done to ensure your survival."

Jim smiled wryly. "Perhaps, but I don't think now's the time to argue over moral choices. You can help me get out of here."

She crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently. "How's that? There's no way out."

"I have a theory, but we need to get one of the aliens here."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Still thinking on it." His eyes flickered to the knife on their tray before sitting down, back towards her with the tray in front of him.

She raised an eyebrow, catching on. While Jim sat, pretending to eat, she took the knife from the tray and pretended to attack him, accept she managed to actually get his shoulder. Jim winced and blocked another attack, struggling to keep the knife from penetrating his chest.

As Jim suspected, they were being watched. The woman got off him, throwing the knife and tray with deadly accuracy. The alien dodged with amazing reflexes, and Jim picked up the knife to charge the alien. Even if he got taken down, he suspected Emmett could finish the job before the alien stopped her too. Unexpectedly, the pain he braced himself for never came. The alien seemed surprised as well and made an obvious move for his left wrist, but at that time, Jim was already on him, stabbing the knife right between the eyes.

"That was easy," Emmett said, making a move for the knife.

Jim managed to grab it before she could. "Probably because the murder attempt seemed too real." Jim glanced at the body. From the wound oozed a translucent yellow that almost looked like goo. "And they were scientists. With their ship design and even their psychological tests they rely heavy on technology. I figured they never really been in a fight." And when the technology failed, he instinctively went to see why.

Jim took a look at the alien's left wrist. There was indeed a device located there. It was a bit bulky, about half an inch thick and 5 inches long that wrapped around the wrists with three distinct buttons. Curiously, there was what looked like knife damage on the casing. There were also signs of attempts to fix the damage meaning it happened recently but before their escape attempt just then.

Either way, Jim took the device off the alien and put it on himself. As soon as it was in place, the device bit into his skin, making him wince.

Cross circuit 2903B9 is broken. Punishment function is disabled. Connection to ship's computer is malfunctioning. Only procedure still operation is teleportation. Do you wish to continue repairs now or continue with use?

So that's how they did it. The device connected to their nervous system, and it responded. It wasn't psychic activity after all. Continue use.

The device beeped and Jim instantly knew how to use the teleportation feature. He thought vaguely at first, not sure where he wanted to go. He just knew he wanted out of this room. The device responded and the similar feeling of being transported washed over him. Before he dematerialized though, he felt Emmett latch onto his arm. When he reappeared, he was indeed outside the room. It looked like a hallway.

The hallway he entered though was different than the one he had before. It was a smooth corridor, but a twisting path with steep ramps and dips. There were still no doors but there were signs on the walls. It appeared there were rooms behind the signs.

He fiddled with the arm device focusing his thoughts on finding the control room. He felt his molecules scrambling yet again and the woman gripped his shoulder tightly, making sure to materialize with him.

When he reached his destination, it was unlike any control room he had ever seen. There was what looked like a long rectangular structure that was about waist height with a chair in front of it. The panel was completely smooth save for a large, red sphere protruding from the middle. The rest of the room was filled with rows and rows of black slabs the size of large bookcases that looked as smooth and glossy as marble. Each slab emitted a soft hum that was almost soothing.

"What the hell are these things?" Dr. Emmett touched one of the slabs. The slab glowed, and its humming grew louder. Even after she backed away, it continued to glow.

Jim only spared the object a glance. It was probably a storage vessel, but there was no way they could navigate through the units by touch alone. He went to the console, eyeing the glossy finish before touching the globe. The red sphere warmed under his touch and a holo screen appeared in front of him. A bunch of symbols scrolled over the screen that was unrecognizable. It was blocky and jammed together with different shades of grey.

It wasn't anything useful. He wasn't sure what he was looking for. He just wanted to know if there was anything he could use to add his escape and if his crew was safe.

A picture of Bones, Uhura, and his three security officers popped up in the screen along with a bunch of information written in that strange language. Each picture was the same as the ones in the Starfleet Database. So the computer responded to thoughts like the arm device.

The moment his thoughts wandered, the page disappeared and once again scrolled through bunch of information, changing with his thoughts. Jim tried to focus his thoughts back on Bones. The page came back up, and he willed to know if he was infected.

A 3-D DNA helix appeared to his right, twirling slowly in the air followed by dividing cells. The cells were damaged. Not heavily but noticeable. McCoy was infected.

Damn them. Were they going to take someone else too? What about everyone else on the colony? What about Luca? A cure, there had to be a cure. They created the damn thing. He focused any information they could give him on the fungal virus. A bunch of information scrolled by, it would take time to decode the language but there was one thing that was useful right away that even he recognized. Atoms. The atomic structure no matter where in the universe was the same. It was a map, instructions, on how to figure out what exactly they were dealing with and how to counteract it. He just needed to figure out a way to─

A large metallic crate was stashed in the corner of the room. There seemed to be an array of human items. Toys, old technology dating aback a hundred years, holos, but more importantly…

Tape decks!

Jim moved to pick one up. It was an old model, square and blocky that worked similarly the old USBs of the 21st century. It was nearly 40 years old, but if these aliens had them, they had to have had a way to examine the contents.

He grabbed a few as Dr. Emmett wandered to the bin, digging around herself. He didn't even think of how he was going to get the information onto them until he realized there was no insert for them. He tried the computer but the only information he received was the strange text. He tried thinking specifically what he wanted to accomplish. He wanted to have information stored on the tape.

One of the tapes that had been spread out on the surface levitated with a yellowish light. Everything was actually working out. If he could get the information stored onto these tapes, he could save people.

He eyed the screen waiting for the download to finish when he felt a searing pain in back of his head. He fell against the panel, hand falling off the sphere to grip whatever he could, trying to get his baring. He barely registered the next strike that had him flat on his back. He was vaguely surprised to see Emmett behind him, holding an old bulky tricorder, his blood coating the edge where she struck him. How could he forget she was there? He was a fool to turn his back to her, so excited to find something of use. A chance to change something for the better. It had blinded him, and his common sense.

Dr. Emmett, approached him, tossing the tricorder aside. "I've been dying to do this. I kept wondering why me? Why did this happen to happen to me and Randy?"

Kirk tried to sit up, but the ground kept tilting underneath him.

"Then I get beamed up here and find out it was all because of you. If you hadn't been so special, if you hadn't caught their eye, they might not have repeated this damn experiment. My beloved brother wouldn't have had to die."

She easily knocked him back on his backside, mounting him and wrapping her hands around his neck. "It's all your fault. Your fault I had to do all those things to survive. The only comfort I had was that Randy's son was still alive, that as long as Luca was safe and sound, I could keep going, but you took him away from me too. He trusts a complete stranger more than me."

Shit he was losing consciousness. He could barely understand what she was saying.

"Just depriving those aliens of their experiments makes killing you even sweeter." She smiled bitterly. "Afterwards I'll blow this ship sky high and send those alien bastards and that Vulcan with you."

That's right, Spock. He still had to save him. Jim tried to think back to his academy training. His thoughts were muddled and swimming. Any moment he was going to lose consciousness. He relied on his body to react. He shot his palm up towards her chin, snapping her head back, when her grip loosened, he took the opportunity to switch their position, so he was on top. Before he thought about it, he twisted her head sharply until he heard a snap.

He stared at the body beneath him blankly, longer than he should have and slowly he got off her to finish the download. It took several minutes. His ability to focus enough to use the computer was compromised, and it took seven attempts to get it right. The information spanned three disks, and he pocketed them. Searching the bin, he found some old parts. Parts that could overload if he set them too, especially the old phaser packs he found. While useless without a phaser model to hold them, they could explode easily if exposed to heat.

He spent five minutes setting it up. He had ten minutes to grab Spock and beam themselves back down to the planet if they couldn't find the shuttle hanger. He thought of the lab he had found Spock in before and used the device again.

Luckily, it was the room Jim was searching for. He was worried that maybe the room had been a set up like their previous escape. However, what he saw made his stomach drop.

Spock was stripped of his shirt and shoes, restrained against an examiners table tilted so Spock was upright, with leather like fetters around his wrists, ankles, neck, and waist. There was a large sickly dark green bruise over his heart, the phaser wound had reopened, dripping emerald green down too pale skin, and various contusions and lacerations covering his face and torso. What really made him sick though was the state of Spock's hands. While the left one was sliced up neatly as if dissected, the other looked like someone had taken a sledgehammer to it and crushed it.

The realization hit him that these aliens may not have wanted to kill Spock, but they didn't plan to use him again. As long as he was breathing, Jim would have done anything to make sure they didn't kill him, but there were other Vulcans they could use in their experiments, so they didn't have to be careful. Not like with him. And if Spock died, it was a minor inconvenience to them.

His anger boiled over. He took the heavy old tricorder and approached the alien while his back was turned and brought it down as hard as he could. The alien fell, yellow liquid pouring out of the wound. It seemed he injured him for real this time. He didn't dare touch him in case he somehow accidentally woke him. The urge to take a knife and just finish the bastard off was strong, and Jim took the knife into his hand. The only thing that stopped him was the wheezing in Spock's breathing and the comment earlier that Spock had made. Spock hadn't wanted the last of this alien race to be killed by his hand. Instead, he got to work getting off Spock's restraints.

He only managed to get the torso and neck when pain ripped through his mind. He couldn't even gain the strength to lift his arms to catch himself as he fell. The only sight he could make out was of the alien getting off the floor, hand on its device.

"I must admit Captain that you are proving to be persistent. I did not expect a second escape so soon."

Weakly Jim looked up with a glare until the pain intensified, making his thoughts numb once again.

"I do not wish to kill you, Captain, but please be cooperative. The work we are doing is to save our people. While I can sympathize with your pain, there is no other way. You are the key to saving my family." The alien's voice broke its even cadence, faltering on the word, "family", and the irises of its green eyes darkened. "And if I must, I will punish you until you do behave."

The pain relented, and Jim could only twitch on the floor. Even so, he forced out a broken chuckle. "Your . . . family is . . . dead. Entire system . . . dead."

Whatever sympathy or guilt the alien felt hardened. The pain started up again. "Lying is not productive, Captain."

Jim's body twitched violently. His breath left him, too painful to even breathe and everyone gained the past two weeks throbbed and burned. He hurt until he could no longer feel the pain. He felt light in fact, disconnected from his body. It felt as if he was on the sidelines, watching the alien frown as he turned off the device once again. The thought crossed Jim's mind that he pushed too far, that he was now broken. Maybe he went insane, maybe that's why he couldn't feel anything anymore.

A morbid curiosity washed over Kirk as to why the alien looked worried. Suddenly, Spock let out a loud and ferocious roar, pulling out of rest of his restraints with strong jerks of his limbs. His dark eyes were ablaze with a savagery that Jim had never seen before.

The sudden behavior caught the alien off guard as well, and Spock, even with his broken body, moved faster than he should have been able to, back handing the alien with superior Vulcan strength with his forearm. The alien fell. Its reaction was to use its device, but Spock beat him too that too, crushing it under his foot along with the alien's wrist, making the creature scream in pain.

This wasn't Spock. What was wrong with him? Jim thought distantly. He swore he could hear Spock's voice, full of pain and hatred.

Katra slipping. Jim dying. Not again. Must save. Death to the one who wishes to harm my t'hy'la.

The alien made a grab at the phaser wound, digging its fingers into it, making the blood run faster. The pain only seemed to anger the Vulcan more, and raising his abused hands, he punched the aliens face again and again with all his might.

It was a repeat with Khan, Jim realized. Spock was bleeding too much, there was a puddle forming underneath him, mixing with the yellow, and Spock was still yelling, still punching even after the body was no longer moving, and the alien's head no longer in one piece.

Jim had to make himself move. His body didn't wish to cooperate. It was a struggle to get to his hands and knees. His head was throbbing, his vision going in and out, but he had to stop Spock. They had to get out of here.

On unstable feet, Jim made it to Spock's side, pulling at Spock with all his might. "Spock, enough, he's dead. Just stop."

Yet Spock wouldn't stop. He kept going and going. Frustrated, he focused his efforts into bringing Spock's left hand to his psi points, projecting his well being as best he could. "I'm here Spock," he gently. "I'm here."

Spock jerked his head to Jim as if shocked to see Jim kneeling beside him. A second passed, then two. As if as switch had turned off, all the energy seemed to drain out of his body and the damage caught up with him. He passed out in Jim's arms.

Jim didn't even get a moment of peace. The first explosion went off, rocking the entire ship. Cursing in five different languages, he tried to stand with a dead weight Spock. It was impossible. Dizziness and nausea took over, and he collapsed to the floor. He was at his physical and mental limit. Was this where he was going to die? Another explosion went off nearby. Flames were erupting from the lab computer. So he would literally go up in flames. It wasn't a bad way to go. It could be worse. It could have been old age. Not as cool as dying after saving 400 lives though.

He glanced down at Spock and held him tighter. His only regret was letting Spock get dragged down with him. He shouldn't have let Spock talk him into being the experiment. He shouldn't have brought Spock on the mission at all. He should have followed protocol for once. The flames were quickly surrounding him. Even with one last attempt, Jim couldn't even get off the ground. At least he was warm. He hadn't even known he was cold.

His body grew as heavy as lead, and his head just wouldn't stay up. Even with the fire around him, the world seemed so dark. Perhaps, it was for the best that he died. Maybe the fire would burn away all his dark deeds. He could only hope. Light surrounded him, and he returned to that weightless yet dizzy feeling. His last thought was that maybe in his next life, he could do it right.

I tried to get this out before the 27th was over for Nimoy. I'm a few minutes late. It is self edited, so tell me if there is a mistake or if something doesn't make sense. I struggles a bit with this chapter and it was written out of order.

taHqeq- dishonarable man/ someone who can't be trusted
He'qab je.- And he smells bad too
HIja- Yeah

Please Comment and tell me about your love for a great man.