A/N: Happy 4th of July weekend to all the Americans! Hope you have a fun and safe holiday. And to everyone else I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 15

U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.293, 0745. Though they'd spent the last 2 days deep in discussion on the subject and weighed all the pros and cons before finally reaching a decision it was still with a heavy heart that she walked beside him down the hall toward the transporter room, her hand nestled in the crook of his arm.

The reality of their situation was that there were no Healers traveling in the vicinity nor any new medical breakthroughs in the treatment of memory loss on the horizon. Their daughter was due to be born in a month. The timing and circumstances of this purported cure were too auspicious to pass up.

Spock's anxiety had eased somewhat but it hadn't completely dissipated—Nyota was aware of that much even without the bond. But after all was said and done, after everything was discussed (to death), it was a decision they each arrived at independently and fully supported.

Before they left that morning she'd stopped him in the doorway. He was immaculately dressed as always but she couldn't stop herself from fussing over his collar."It's alright if you get down there and change your mind," she reminded him. "We can always find another way."

She let her hands linger on his chest, feeling the heat of him and the strength of his muscles beneath her palms, committing it all to memory. Much as she believed he'd come back to her (if not fully cured then at least as he was) she wanted to be sure she remembered this moment completely. "You have my full support no matter what, and Jim's and Len's too."

He reached up then and took one of her hands in each of his, bringing them up to his lips one at a time and pressing a soft kiss into each, almost sending her into a swoon. "Understood." She was reluctant to let go as Spock transmitted his abiding love through the surface bond but the departure time was fast approaching.

All too soon they reached the transporter room. Kirk and McCoy were there along with 6 men and women from security, all locking their belts on their hips and readying themselves to beam down. The Captain grinned at their entrance while Len grumbled and tugged hard at his collar, muttering about it being too early to be dressed like a 'trussed up turkey.' Ordinarily the mundane comment from him would've elicited a chuckle from her but not today. Even if the security officers were unwitting the senior officers all knew what was truly at stake once they reached the surface.

"Uhura!" Jim announced playfully. Humor was always his first weapon of choice. "Come to see me off? Maybe give me a good-bye kiss?"

With a witty remark on her lips Spock surprised her by replying first. "Captain, your continued overtures toward my wife are as unwelcome as they are unbecoming. Also, I believe it is I who will be the recipient of any farewell kisses the Lieutenant wishes to bestow, not you."

The Captain flushed red to the tips of his ears and McCoy fairly crowed. "Ha! Hobgoblin got you in one, Jim!"

Beaming, Nyota escorted Spock over to the edge of the pad and did just as her husband suggested, clasping his face in her hands for one long, passionate kiss that he returned with equal ardor in full view of their colleagues. Though she struggled mightily to keep the tears at bay one salty trickle did slide down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb then took his place on the deck. "Be safe," she whispered.

"Always."

With a nod toward the engineer Kirk ordered them all to be energized.

"Taluhk nash-veh k'dular*," Spock called out as the familiar lights encompassed the group.

Smiling broadly at him as he de-materialized Nyota was surprised to hear Jim's disembodied voice cry out, "Hey! I think I know that one!"

The night before they beamed down to the surface he did not sleep. This was not solely on account of nerves but also on account of his not wanting to miss a minute of laying there with his adun'a in his arms. Although the decision had been made before they retired he was uncharacteristically apprehensive and had taken to second-guessing himself once approximately every 12.49 minutes.

Looking down at the crown of Nyota's head as she slept he leaned over and placed a soft kiss, luxuriating in the scent and feel of her against him, and attempted to put all else out of his mind. He especially tried not to think of the data chip taped to the back of the holoimage of the Suckow Convention. She would find it if and when the time came. He could not and would not take his leave of her again under such uncertain circumstances without making provisions beforehand—for her and for their child.

Contained in the data chip was a last Will and Testament he had composed the previous day. While not a legally binding document Spock wanted his wife and daughter to know that he had been thinking of them and making arrangements for them up until the last; he only hoped that when Nyota found it she understood that he had not written the document in anticipation of his death but was merely being pragmatic. He so dearly wanted to live, and with a baby on the way he could not afford to be anything less than sensible, yet even as he composed the document he hoped that she would never need to see it.

What requests he made in his Will were few and reasonable. He asked that his wife find a posting for herself on Earth where she could safely raise their daughter and, if possible, find occasion to take her to New Vulcan for visits with her extended Vulcan-family. He also asked her not to mourn his passing over-long and attempt to find happiness again with another. She had too much life, too much love to offer not to seek out a new mate and he would not begrudge her that, even in death.

He also told her how deeply he loved her, calling upon the great poets of every world and in every language at his disposal to show her that her affection was reciprocated. He would not allow her to question that ever again; it would not do for him to leave this world and have her think otherwise.

To his daughter (even as he carefully composed the letter he wished, however illogically, that his adun'a had settled on a name) he told her all his hopes and dreams for her, how he cherished her from the first moment he learned of her existence, how miraculous it was to know that a piece of him and Nyota could come together to create something so beautiful—for that is exactly what she was.

Spock bared his soul, sparing no emotions in these letters because they would be the only pieces that lived on for his wife and child after he was gone; they were his Katric Ark.

When Nyota started to stir in pre-wakefulness he rose from the bed and showered and dressed. Spock went through his morning ritual as if nothing were amiss, presenting as calm a front for Nyota's sake as he could, even as his heart fluttered wildly in his side. Before they left their quarters she stopped him and tugged at the fabric of his collar. He knew it was not because it needed straightening but because she disliked that he was walking into a fairly unknown situation and leaving her behind.

The kisses to her palms were as spontaneous as they were heartfelt.

Only in his last seconds on the Enterprise was he unable to contain his emotions any longer. "Taluhk nash-veh k'dular."

If they were the last words she ever heard him speak then it was a comfort to him that she knew his heart as well as his mind was always hers.

Capital City of Ni'Strell, Stardate 2261.293, 0358 (local time). The nine members of the Enterprise crew re-materialized on the surface without incident and fanned out, scanning the immediate perimeter for any danger or anomalies. As he watched the red-shirted team make their way carefully through the waist-high grass Jim couldn't help but think of the flat plains of Iowa and, though it was warm, he shuddered.

Turning to look out over the distance he spied the rising spires of the capital city of Ni'Strell, a beautiful sight to behold and in sharp contrast to the field they found themselves in. The buildings were designed in such a way that they resembled the spiral wind chimes his mother used to hang out the back door and they looked like they could almost dance on the wind. The way the early morning light glinted off the metal and glass also suggested that they were as much alive as they were.

He looked back over his shoulder to hear Bones muttering about tardy welcomes and spied Spock staring toward the city with a tricorder in hand. "Captain, there are five life forms approaching from the northeast."

Eyes darting over to the spot Jim quickly located the delegates walking briskly in their direction, their heads bent and robes undulating against the rapid patter of their feet. He made out the leader, Ambassador Dieni, in the center, recognizing him not only by his great height but the length of his whiskers; his beard must have reached down to his waist at least, if not more. When they approached Jim locked eyes with the diplomat and bowed in genuflection. "Greetings. I am Captain James T. Kirk of the U.S.S. Enterprise. It is my pleasure to formally welcome you and your people into the Federation."

The attaché and his group nodded back, his voice gentle but also somewhat hoarse from disuse. "I am Dieni of the Kerrali delegation. It is we who welcome you, Captain Kirk and crew. Our people are pleased to be accepted into your Federation."

"It's your Federation now too," Bones reminded him somewhat curtly.

The man glanced at McCoy but took no offense, rather smiling broadly at being corrected. "Of course. We are pleased to be accepted into the Federation."

Jim grinned and straightened up, the top of his head barely reaching the nearest Kerralian diplomat mid-chest. "I must admit you've got a remarkably good grasp of Standard."

Representative Dieni nodded. "Yes. Our facility for language is—unique," he replied with a twinkle in his eye. He gestured for the rest of his party to move forward. "Captain, may we make the rest of the introductions?"

For someone who was more used to having such tedious diplomatic duties foisted on him rather than off Jim readily agreed. The Kerralians each stepped up to a member of the Enterprise crew and extended their hands out and palm upward as if they were doing a standing push-up, then they closed their eyes and waited. His team all turned to him, not wanting to offend their guests but needing direction. There was nothing in the debriefing packet about this particular custom and he was in as much a loss as to what to do as they were. Bones alone simply scowled at the lot of them.

Before he could ask Ambassador Dieni what they wanted them to do Spock sheathed his tricorder and stepped forward, approaching the Kerralian woman that stood near a security ensign. Mirroring her attitude he remarked, "They are touch telepaths, Captain," before placing his palms against hers. Both stood silent but the rapid eye movement in each and the numerous facial expressions the woman made let them know that greetings were being made on the mental plane.

Slowly the rest of his team, despite having no psionic abilities whatsoever, stepped forward for introductions.

"Greetings. I am…"

"Spock, son of Sarek and Amanda, from the planet Vulcan. Greetings Spock, I am Lilithrena, daughter of Tuvel and Ragineya. Welcome to Kerrali."

Spock struggled to contain his curiosity at Lilithrena's knowledge of him. Had his reputation preceded him or did her information stem from her natural telepathic ability?

"A little bit of both, actually," she replied with a mental smirk. "We are just as curious to meet you as you are to meet us. We have encountered few other touch telepaths before, and you are the first Vulcan to ever grace our planet."

He couldn't keep the awe out of his voice. "Fascinating."

"Indeed." Here she opted to speak in Vulkhansu, much to his surprise. "I see you are a scientist at heart, just like myself. Do not hold back; you have my full permission to explore."

With the metaphorical flood gates now opened he rushed head long into the recesses of Lilithrena's mind, learning in seconds that which would ordinarily have taken him days.

"Jim…"

The kid shot him a warning look. "Be considerate to our new friends, Bones-y."

Oh how he hated that nickname; he hated it even more when Jim said it in that stupid sing-song-y voice of his, but still there was no mistaking the look on his face. He'd pull rank if he had to to get him to comply because Jim didn't want his personal obstinacy resulting in a diplomatic mishap of epic proportions. Hiding a gulp Len stepped up to Dieni, shut his eyes tight and held up his hands, not quite pressing them into the Kerralian's. If there was one thing he hated more than living in a tin can that flew through space it was the head voo-doo.

No sooner had he pressed his palms against the attaché's then the other man took a giant step back as if he'd been physically burnt. Len's eyes flew open at the broken contact. "Forgive me, Dr. McCoy. It is our custom never to tread where we are not wholly welcome."

He didn't bother to hide his relief. The Kerralians were getting higher and higher in his estimation with every minute. "Um…thanks. Nothin' against you, it's just…"

"Of course. You are a vault. We understand."

The man spent all of 2 seconds in his head yet he knew all that. Over his shoulder he heard Kirk snigger while his jaw went slack. "How in the blazes did you know that?"

But Dieni had already moved away, his attention drawn to the woman still melding with Spock. Len watched as she released one of Spock's hands and made a clicking noise in the back of her throat, beckoning the rest of her team to join her. Without another word Dieni took hold of her outstretched palm and closed his eyes, holding out his free hand for the next delegate to take and so on until all the ambassadors formed a chain in the middle of the field.

"Whoa."

He glanced over to see Jim standing in shock beside him. While not the most articulate response it was certainly apt; still, although Spock looked the picture of calm he always looked that way and Len wondered what this telepathic barrage might really be doing to his friend. "Do you think we oughta…"

"No," Kirk cut him off abruptly. "I mean everything seems to be under control. Let's just give 'em a sec."

"There is a black spot in your mind," Lilithrena announced. "This troubles you." Gesturing over her shoulder Spock saw the consciousnesses of the group snake about her like a chain. They all nodded in agreement.

"Yes. I was injured in an away mission 8.6 months ago, resulting in the erasure of 3.72 years of my memory. Adjusting to life on board the ship in the wake of this incident has been…difficult."

The Kerralians appeared perplexed and saddened by this news. "We have seen this also, but it is not the only darkness we speak of. We grieve with thee."

Their sympathy brought his other losses to the forefront and they all seemed to focus on one image in particular. It was from the early days of his recovery when he had been alone in his quarters. He had spent hours sitting in front of his computer console staring at side-by-side holos of Vulcan that was and the black hole it had become.

Before the grief could consume him Ambassador Dieni spoke. "We would like to learn more about how you came to lose your memory, but perhaps it would be best to speak of this more openly; I believe your colleagues are growing concerned the longer we linger."

"Very well."

As they prepared to quit the meld Spock listened as the Kerralians talked amongst themselves, remarking on the 'intriguing' Vulcan and his non-telepathic human companions.

30 seconds later the chain broke and the delegates formed a semi-circle around the Commander rapidly firing off questions in Vulkhansu.

It was absolutely amazing; they couldn't have been introduced to the Vulcan language for more than a few minutes and yet they already spoke it like a native—at least, they sounded like natives to his untrained ear.

"They just met him! How in the hell do they know all that?"

Jim looked over at the Doctor and smirked. "Well they did say they were good with languages."

He watched Bones' fingers twitch around the tricorder sheathed on his belt; you didn't need to be a telepath to see how badly he wanted to scan the Kerralians and learn more about their physiology but they weren't paying him any mind. They were all focused intently on Spock and so long as his First Officer wasn't in any distress he wouldn't interfere.

Instead, Jim listened in trying to pick up on bits and pieces of the conversation.

"Where did the injury occur?"

"Who or what were the perpetrators of this incident?"

"What attempts, if any, have been made to reverse your condition?"

"Is there a biological component that is impeding your natural ability to heal yourself?"

"Is it your opinion that the priests at Qua'lash can help you? Is that why you've come here today?"

He was prepared to answer questions on all fronts save that final one. Taking a moment to compose himself, Spock turned toward the man near the back who was staring down his nose at him in disdain; he uncharacteristically bristled at the half-spoken accusation.

Representative Dieni responded before he could. "You must forgive Chanai; he is weary of outsiders as a rule, especially now that we have made the Temple of Qua'lash known to foreigners. He fears that there will be an abuse of the priests' time and abilities if this information spreads to the rest of the galaxy."

Though he had a firm grip on his emotions Spock still disliked being summarily lumped in with the disreputable portion of the Federation—therefore defending his good name was a most logical course of action. "The healing properties of the Temple were disclosed to my Captain by his friend, Captain Stellan Sigurson of the U.S.S. Lexington, 2.41 days ago. Captain Kirk in turn shared this information with Doctor McCoy and they then shared it with me; it is their hope that I might be treated at Qua'lash and cured. While I will not pretend to be ignorant of the Temple's existence it is not the reason for my presence here this morning. I am here to fulfill my duty as a senior officer aboard the U.S.S. Enterprise, not to grovel for aid. If no such offer is extended then I will leave with my people this evening no worse than I already am and I will not think any less of the Kerralian people no matter the end result."

The delegates nodded in approval, each remarking to Chanai about his ever-increasing paranoia. However, the young man stood his ground with his head held high, certain of his colleagues' naiveté . Knowing that there were those species that were just waiting on the fringe of Kerrali's borders that would use and exploit their talents for their own gain had they been witting made Spock regret speaking so hastily. The attaché was right to put his people on their guard just as Spock was wrong to speak so out of turn.

"Come." Ambassador Dieni was speaking in Standard again and turned in the direction of Ni'Strell, gesturing for the group to join him. "The City Minister and High Chancellors wish to meet you all. When that is through we will arrange for transportation for you to Qua'lash. If they cannot help you then I do not know who can."

U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.293, 1907 hours. She was feeling restless…and worried. The team checked in 2 hours ago and everything was fine—she'd listened to the audio herself just to be sure there were no coded distress messages—but in spite of that Nyota simply couldn't seem to keep still. So, to help settle her nerves, she decided to take a turn about the ship.

Wending her way about several floors she finally stopped and stood before one of the floor-to-ceiling windows on the observation deck and gazed down at Kerrali. The surface of the green planet looked so tranquil and at ease and she idly rubbed her belly and sighed, wishing she could be there to see it all for herself as well as support Spock.

"It almost looks how I'd imagine Eden must've looked" Nyota gave a small start at her friend's voice; she'd walked right in and completely overlooked Christine sitting at the corner table staring out the same bank of windows. "Sorry," the blond said, smiling apologetically. "I didn't mean to startle you." She got up and came to stand beside her, the two women quietly taking in the scenery below. Together they watched the gathering purple and fuschia storm clouds swirling about in the southeast.

"I guess I have a lot more on my mind right now then I thought."

"I understand." After a beat she added, "He's ok you know." Optimism was Chris' strong suit but meaningless platitudes weren't her style so Nyota listened close. "The Doctor called a little while ago and said they were doing fine. He said the 3 of them were headed south shortly; he didn't sound too keen about the shuttle ride but other than that he still sounded hopeful."

Instead of a smile she scowled, angry with her people for not contacting her about another communication from the surface after she'd left explicit instructions. Debating over whether or not a rampage on the comm lab was wise she almost missed Chris quietly add, "It wasn't a public call, Ny. Len only comm'd."

Oh.

Ohhhh.

How in the world had she missed that?

Astonished, Nyota turned and caught sight of the tell-tale smile on her friend's face that this time spoke of more than her usual good cheer. Christine was in love.

"How long…?"

A few strands of hair came loose as the other woman shook her head. "Not long."

"Not long? You drop a bomb like that and only leave me with 'not long'?" she teased back.

Chris turned her head and blushed. "It only started getting serious about 3 or 4 months ago..."

"3 or 4 months?" Nyota clapped a hand over her offending mouth as her friend giggled in the face of her shock. "How come you haven't said anything before?"

She shrugged. "We've just been trying to keep it under the radar is all. I don't even think the Captain knows, though that may be more for Len's amusement then anything else. Plus you've had a lot on your plate…"

"That's still no excuse."

Her friend shot her a look like she was going to question that but decided against it. "Maybe, maybe not; but again we weren't exactly advertising." Chris swayed and bumped into her shoulder, eliciting a small smile. "I'm glad you know now though."

Nyota gave her hand a squeeze. She felt more at ease then she had all day, her mind focusing on Len and Christine together as a couple instead of on what Spock might or might not be facing down below. Honestly, she was surprised the two of them hadn't gotten together sooner, though how they got away with keeping it secret now—and for this long—without anyone the wiser was impressive. She was about to say as much when she felt a gush and a sudden wetness between her legs and she froze.

"Ny?" Chris took hold of her by the shoulders and studied her face. "Nyota?" The warm, sticky, wetness continued to seep down her thigh. "Nyota, are you alright? Say something."

"I…" Still skeptical, she looked down at her feet. The dark stain on her pant leg, the liquid trickling down by her ankle—there was no mistaking the evidence now. "Chris, I think my water just broke."

Temple of Qua'lash, Stardate 2261.293, 1010 (local time). The shuttle Ambassador Dieni requisitioned for their trip landed without incident some 2 kilometers from the Temple door. Jim didn't question the distance, he was just too grateful that they brought them there and were going to let Spock in to let a little walk worry him. With their guide leading the way the 4 strode toward the door and what he hoped was a cure for his First Officer and friend.

"The priests will not address you directly," Dieni cautioned as they got closer. "In addition to their vows of poverty and charity they have taken a vow of absolute silence, save for telepathic communication. It is their belief that their healing favors are blessed by the gods because of this." The attaché chanced a quick look at McCoy but said nothing as they walked on.

Damn. Bones was going to have an issue with that for sure; he knew he had questions about their treatment methods and if they wouldn't talk to him and he wouldn't let them touch him there was no way he was going to let Spock near them. Glancing at him out of the corner of his eye Jim saw he was right but the look of concern McCoy spared for Spock in the next moment made him reconsider the sharp quip that was on the tip of his tongue.

"Also, if the priests believe they can cure you Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy will not be allowed in the room. They may wait for you in the antechamber but only you may enter the Yuhestra, the central healing chamber. It is a test of your faith and if you do not consent to enter alone the priests will not treat you."

He and Len jerked to a stop; that was a condition even he couldn't abide by and Jim found his hand hovering defensively over his holster without realizing it.

"No!" they cried simultaneously.

"Understood."

Of course; of course Spock would think this was a good idea. "NO!" Jim shrieked.

"Are you out of your damned mind? Listen here, you overgrown leprechaun, we're not letting you anywhere…!"

"Doctor."

"What!" Bones spat back in annoyance.

Spock trained his cool, level gaze on them both. "There is no need to shout at me. I have not agreed to anything. I was merely acknowledging the conditions Representative Dieni set forth. Only after I consult with the priests will I make a final decision."

Oh. Well now that was a horse of a different color. Jim looked over at the Ambassador who stood calmly off to the side seemingly as uninterested in their conversation as he was of Jim's trigger-happy finger. Relaxing, he let his hand drop to the side. The Kerrali really were non-violent people…

…and he'd get that through his head eventually.

Soon the quartet approached the gilded outer gate and rang the ceremonial bell. Before long 5 extremely tall Kerralian priests in electric blue robes answered and admitted them with nothing more than a discerning glance.

U.S.S. Enterprise, Stardate 2261.293, 1930 hours. M'Benga popped his head up and smiled at her, standing as he pulled off the latex gloves and motioned for her to lower her legs. He commented on her progress but she didn't hear a word of it; her heart was pounding too loud in her ears. This was too soon—this was all happening too soon. Spock wasn't here and they were supposed to have another month…

"Lieutenant?"

She looked over at him in wide-eyed alarm. He still smiled at her but there was a certain gravity about him that she didn't usually see. "I know you're scared—you're worried that this is all happening too fast—but I need you to remember to keep breathing. Now we've sent a message down to the surface for the command team and I'm sure Commander Spock will be here shortly but right now you need to keep in mind that you're both in good hands. I know I'm not the CMO but the Enterprise has a crack team of doctors and nurses and we've all been training for the last 7 months for just this moment; we know what to do and we won't let you down. You and your daughter are going to be just fine."

In her heart of hearts she knew this was true but it didn't make the situation she now found herself in any easier to swallow. "Are you sure this isn't too early for her to be born?"

M'Benga shook his head. "When we learned of this pregnancy Dr. McCoy and I took all the available information we had into consideration and gave you what we felt was an appropriate due date; however, despite our calculations, it looks as though your daughter feels differently. Now her brain is fully developed, as are her lungs and the rest of her body, so she's perfectly capable of surviving if she's born today or tomorrow which is what she seems intent on doing. Her birth only seems premature to us because we were banking on her spending another month or so growing but technically there's no reason for her to wait any longer to come out and meet you."

"Ok." Carefully controlling her breathing Nyota felt the panic start to subside. "Ok."

"Good. Now you're free to get up and walk around but we want you to stay close to the sickbay for observation just to be safe, alright? No leaving this deck or I will sic Dr. McCoy's hounds on you," he warned with a wink.

In spite of herself she laughed as she sat up, Christine by her side to help with whatever she might want or need. There were still a million things that could go wrong: Spock might not return in time, their daughter might not survive her premature birth despite M'Benga's predictions—she might not survive her daughter's birth—but knowing her Enterprise family was there to help her shoulder the burden made her feel lighter. Turning out of bed she slipped her feet into the waiting pair of slippers and let Christine help her into a robe, then took her arm and pulled her to the hallway for a quick stroll.

She had to trust that despite all appearances everything would turn out the way it was supposed to because right now it was completely out of her hands.

Temple of Qua'lash, Stardate 2261.293, 1035 (local time). The priests at the entrance nodded at the group then reached out their hands. Spock was surprised when everyone in the party submitted to inspection, though Doctor McCoy did so with a rather large grimace on his face. Carefully he stepped forward and allowed the priest access to his psi points.

It was unlike any other mind meld he had ever had. Spock barely felt the priest's entrance into his consciousness and 1.03 seconds later he withdrew without so much as a sound. Looking around he saw Captain Kirk and Doctor McCoy looking equally perplexed as their attendants stepped away; meanwhile the priests flocked to Ambassador Dieni's side and were soon locked in conference.

The men grouped together on the other side of the room and conferred silently with one another. "Was that it?" Captain Kirk asked.

"I do believe, Captain, that that was indeed 'it'."

"Geez, Spock," the Doctor continued, "If that was a mind meld you could learn a thing or two from them! If your technique were half…"

"Gentlemen." The priests shuffled out of the ornate anteroom, their blue billowing around their feet like waves, and Dieni came over to address them. "They have assessed the injury and, though extensive, they believe they and their brothers are capable of reversing it. If you wish to begin treatment you may step into the Yuhestra through those doors there." He pointed to a set of thick, wooden, double doors on the other side of the room that were covered in elaborate scrollwork. No one had approached them since their arrival. "However, if you do not wish to go forward then we may return to Ni'Strell. The choice is yours, Commander Spock."

He nodded at the other man. "A moment if you will, Ambassador."

"Certainly."

Spock turned to confer with his comrades. He felt as though he were standing on the edge of a precipice and could either jump in or be pushed.

He had never liked being pushed.

The Captain approached with hands clasped tight behind his back and an altogether studious expression on his face. "Well, Mr. Spock? What do you intend to do?"

Mentally he reviewed his situation once more. There were no physicians on the Enterprise who could help him and there were no Vulcan Healers coming. With no foreseeable cure on the horizon save this the decision was all but made for him. "I intend to begin treatment."

The Doctor frowned while Captain Kirk merely nodded. "Very well. We'll be waiting for you right here." The pair stepped away toward a bench on the far side of the room followed by the Ambassador as Spock strode toward the double doors wondering what awaited him on the other side. Pausing, he studied the designs in the wood wondering what it all meant, then took a deep breath and pushed them open wide enough to admit him; once he was through they immediately swung shut so that his colleagues could not see or hear anything more.

The room beyond was unlike anything he had anticipated; it was full of air and light and had a bank of windows overlooking the gorge that made up the final border of the property. In the center of the room were two circles, a white one encircling a translucent blue the same shade as the priests' robes, and as Spock stepped closer he saw that the architects of the Temple had hollowed out the ground beneath the blue sphere straight through the cliff until he could see to the bottom of the gorge. Overhead a circular skylight was placed over the spheres allowing for an optimum amount of natural light. There was no other furniture in the room and no other person save for himself.

Though he did not feel threatened Spock scrupulously studied the layout in the event that he be needed to make a quick escape. Stepping over to the windows he tested the strength of the glass and scanned the surrounding walls for any exits.

"Be at peace, S'chn T'gai Spokh. You are in no danger here."

Raising an eyebrow he spun on his heel only to discover that he was still alone in the room. Apparently the priests were stronger telepaths than their counterparts and did not need the physical contact as other Kerralians did to communicate.

"That is correct." To his right he heard the hiss of a hidden doorway pull open admitting 45 priests into the spacious room.

Curious how the Kerralians always traveled in pairs of 5.

"We draw strength in this number; also, it has been the way of our people for as long as we can remember," the collective answered. All the priests' attentions were now focused solely on him. "And will continue thus for generations."

At this moment one priest near the back shuffled away from the pack, his hunched carriage and slow, plodding steps announcing him as an Elder. With one liver-spotted hand outstretched to Spock he nodded and stepped into yet another mind meld. "You are as our family out there is," he announced, the group over his shoulder nodding in agreement. "You require touch in order to communicate in this way. This is the way of your father's people but not of your mother's."

"Yes, that is correct."

"We find that very interesting indeed. Few Kerralians are born without the facility for basic telepathic communication, yet the Federation has shown us that there are entire species without this ability. Most fascinating." Probing deeper into Spock's mind the priest added, "But that is not what brings you here to us today. The memories you are trying to recover are within but are buried more deeply than even you or your colleagues realize. We sense them but cannot access them and our combined powers are great."

Spock took a moment to disassemble the Elder's statement. "Would a Healer be better able to reverse the damage? Will you be able to reverse the damage?"

He felt the collective approach and delve deeper into his psyche. Where such a meld conducted with other Vulcans the pain would be most acute but here the sensation was akin to a faint, static-sounding hum, that was proving to be more annoying than painful.

"As we do not know the techniques your Healers may have employed to repair your mind we cannot say; however, with patience and great fortitude we believe we can retrieve what has been lost to you.

"S'chn T'gai Spokh, your case is as unique as you are, and for that reason we must insist that you be an active participant and remain conscious throughout the entire procedure. This will take several hours to complete."

Unconsciously Spock straightened a little at the challenge. "I am able to function with much less sleep than my human colleagues. This will not be a problem."

The Elder shook his head. "It is not only your physical stamina that will be tested today but your mental and emotional strength as well."

He pinched his lips into a tighter, thinner line. "Understood," he replied, "Let us begin."