Vahklas
By Blacknblue (aka Bluenblack)
Disclaimer: I don't own Star Trek. I wrote this for fun. Anyone is free to download and/or redistribute this story as long as you keep it complete and intact, and as long as you don't make any money from it.
Note: Vulcan terms used in this story were taken from the online Vulcan Language Dictionary, the Vulcan Language Institute, or I made them up myself.
Description: This is another afterthought to my series "The Road Once Traveled". I thought it was done. I really did. But a few snips and bits were still hanging loose, so I scribbled off some scenes to tie them up. Here they are. This is a direct sequel to Kov + Hess . It picks up immediately after the other one stops.
This story makes several references to events that took place during earlier stories in my series. In addition, this story incorporates aspects of the Vulcan social and economic structure as described in my prior stories. If you have not read my earlier work you might have issues following along with this. Or you might not. Enter at your own risk.
If you want to go back and start at the beginning, the series runs as follows:
The Road Once Traveled
(Just type http : / followed by the address shown here. Remember to delete spaces and/or line breaks):
1 - For Want Of A Nail
triptpolers . houseoftucker .
com /fiction/author_blacknblue_want_of_a_nail . shtml
2 - In The Cold Of The Night
triptpolers . houseoftucker .
com /fiction/author_blacknblue_in_the_cold_of_the_night . shtml
3 - Father To The Man
triptpolers . houseoftucker .
com /fiction/author_blacknblue_father_to_the_man . shtml
4 - Purgatory
www . fanfiction .
net /s/ 5582286 /1/ Purgatory
5 - Hess + Kov
www. fanfiction .
net /s/ 5521944/1/ Hess_Kov
Chapter 2
"How does the robe look?" Trip fretted. "In the back I mean. Is it hanging straight?"
"It is quite acceptable," T'Pol told him serenely. "Your appearance is flawless, husband."
"Indeed, Charles," Lorat said. Calmly of course. "There is no cause for concern. This meeting is a routine matter."
"Yeah. Sure." Trip closed his mouth and recalled the last time he was face to face with Koss.
"…He could feel the rough leather of the knife grip in his sweating hand, and see the naked fear in the Vulcan's eyes. Trip pressed the blade against his throat and flicked his eyes toward Koss's companion. "One move from you and I carve him a new mouth..."
"Right. Just a routine matter."
Trip walked across the waiting room to look out the second floor viewing window that oversaw the assembly floor. The Human portion of the joint Human/Vulcan operation was shut down for the holiday break. Only one light in five was left on, leaving ominous looking patches of gloomy shadow splotching the floor of the silent factory. The prototype warp core on its raised dais bulked huge in the dimness, lurking in the center of the abandoned space like some huge cave bear, gone into hibernation to await the return of its makers. All around the massive beast, the floor was crowded with control terminals and stacks of spare parts and materials.
"I appreciate your being willing to meet us here," Trip turned away from the window to address Lorat and his companion, Sulden. "It makes things a lot simpler."
Sulden inclined his head. "It was no inconvenience, Charles. Particularly for family. Most particularly since the directors of Clan Tren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac took it upon themselves to hold this bi-annual meeting of the stockholders without the courtesy of notifying you."
"Yeah," Trip pursed his lips and looked at T'Pol. "I suppose it would be considered inappropriate for me to beat their heads into the table in retaliation?"
"Unfortunately, yes," she returned with a deadpan expression. Trip sighed and looked back at the two old men and their elevated eye hair.
"T'Pol is kind of like my cultural attaché," he told them seriously. "She's constantly at work trying to train me in proper behavior. Things like, 'don't drool on the rugs,' 'don't shoot the neighbors without a good reason,' stuff like that."
Lorat remarked, "Eldest Mother T'Para advised us that your sense of humor was somewhat distorted, at best. I see that her penchant for understatement remains intact." He turned his head toward the main entrance. An instant later the other Vulcans followed suit, so Trip headed down the hallway under the conviction that his company had arrived.
He was correct. Eric Hess came through the door slightly less exhausted than he had been the night before, but just as sweat soaked. "Oh man, Trip," he gasped. "How did you ever get used to this?"
"Get used to it? I never did," Trip told him. "I just got bored with complaining about it. Come on back and get some water."
"Yessir," Eric agreed hoarsely. He straightened when the three Vulcans came into view. "Oh, excuse me."
"Greetings, Eric Hess," T'Pol said gravely, offering him the ta'al. "I present to you two of the Elders of my clan, Lorat and Sulden."
Eric gamely made a stab at offering the split fingered salute, with indifferent success. "Um… greetings? I am honored to meet you both. I, uh, apologize for my appearance. I wasn't expecting anyone here but Trip. I mean, Captain Tucker. We were supposed to tour the factory so I wore casual clothing."
"I told them about our plans, Eric," Trip handed Eric a tall mug. "I'm sorry to throw a wrench into things at the last minute. Seems that keeps happening to you ever since you got here. If it's all right, T'Pol will give you the tour instead of me. She knows at least as much about what's happening here as I do, since she's been here all along while I spent half my time shuttling back and forth between here and Earth while we got this place set up."
Eric took the mug away from his mouth and sighed in relief. "Sure thing. Um…" He looked curious but shut up. Trip chuckled.
"It's complicated. Long story a little shorter, I own a piece of the K'Haril shipyards. The directors of the company that I own a piece of don't like me, and they called a surprise stockholders meeting for today without notifying me. I only know about it because T'Pol's family has spies there. So now I have to rush over and make sure that our interests are protected." He chewed the corner of his lip and watched Eric process this.
"You mean," Eric said slowly, "that you own a piece of the very shipyard that is going to be building the engines that Starfleet Command assigned you to design? Isn't that… I mean… is that… legal?"
"On Vulcan, yes," Trip told him seriously. "T'Pol's clan also owns a fair sized chunk of the same shipyards. Naturally, it's in everyone's best interest if we all look out for each other. Now, I know the technical end of things. That part is fine. Where I am weak is the legal and economic background, especially in terms of how the game is played under Vulcan rules. Which is where these two gentlemen come in," he gestured toward the Elders, who inclined their heads. "Sulden is the senior legal guy for T'Pol's clan. Lorat is a bean counter extraordinaire. They're coming with me to make sure that I don't get rooked."
"O…kay." Eric looked doubtful. "If you're sure that this is not going to cause problems. What does Starfleet Command think of this?"
"It is none of their concern," Sulden spoke up. "This is a private family matter, involving personal property owned by individual members of the family, as well as the clan in common. All persons involved are Vulcan citizens and Earth has no jurisdiction over any of this."
"It's just the way things are done here, Eric," Trip tried to explain. "I reacted the same way when I first came here. But it's not like it sounds. There are a lot of checks and balances built into the system to keep everyone honest. Believe me. Bottom line, everyone watches everyone else like a hawk. Nobody dares to try any funny business because as soon as they do, the whole system is designed to cave in on top of them like a mountain."
Eric blinked. "I'm glad I don't have to understand it. Good luck anyway. Knock 'em dead." They traded shoulder slaps and Trip headed out, followed by a bemused looking pair of Vulcans.
S'Tor, Primary Assistant Secretary to Adjunct Ministerial Assistant Kov, waited patiently while Council Minister Kuvak's receptionist announced his arrival. Upon receiving clearance to enter, S'Tor straightened himself and strode forward to present his report.
"Be seated, krei," the minister told him in a gracious, albeit distracted tone. Kuvak was standing at a side table sorting PADDs and separating papers. "I will be with you in 7.3 minutes."
S'Tor obediently took a chair and folded his hands. As always when visiting this office, he welcomed the opportunity to peruse the minister's art collection. In particular, Minister Kuvak had spent years amassing an impressive selection of representational graphics created by various races. S'Tor found it fascinating to note the variability in visual perception among the Vulcanoid species of the quadrant.
He rotated the chair slightly to gain a view of his favorite graphic, a representation in glass of the Grahora Falls on Betazed, and noticed a new acquisition. S'Tor blinked and looked closely. Then he suddenly found himself standing in front of the picture without conscious intent.
"Compelling, is it not?" Kuvak's voice came from across the room and broke his concentration. S'Tor turned, discomfited.
"Indeed. May I inquire as to the artist?" He turned back to look at the picture again despite his best intentions.
Footsteps announced that the minister had crossed the room to join him, but S'Tor was unable to look away. "The artist is my son's wife, Anna. She created it using Terran oil-based polymers applied on cloth. The subject is a view of Shi'Kahr, as seen from the edge of Telo mesa, at midnight by the light of T'Khut."
The colors were incredible. S'Tor moved closer, only to find that the individual details seem to smear into chaos. When he stepped back the picture returned to focus. At arm's length the level of detail appeared almost photographic.
Knife-edged shadows of stygian black brought eye-hurting contrast to the glowing orange and brown and yellow of the desert. In the distance, the barrier guards of Shi'Kahr shone with subdued brilliance in the reflected light of Vulcan's sister planet. But their color was nothing remotely similar to what S'Tor had seen all his life. Beyond the perimeter barrier, graceful towers reached for the night sky - looking almost alien in their transformed hues and shadows.
The night sky that overarched the scene was crowded beyond belief with more stars than S'Tor could have imagined. It was nearly impossible to perceive the darkness of space between them, so many were they and so brightly did they shine.
And finally, T'Khut. She was reborn, flaming like the living goddess that the ancients had believed her to be. Their sister planet rode the night sky wearing the scars of battle that criss-crossed her face, and the fiery mountains that spewed molten fury were plain to see across the planet's surface.
"This... is how the night appears to Human eyes?" S'Tor asked slowly.
"So I am informed," Kuvak assured him. "Captain Tucker has also examined the painting, and he confirms that it presents a close representation of the Vulcan night as seen by Humans."
"I would..." S'Tor shook his head, feeling somewhat dazed. "I ask pardon, Minister."
"Granted," Kuvak made a slight gesture of negation. "Your reaction is not unusual. I was quite gratified when Anna presented it to me."
"I can well imagine," S'Tor replied, following Kuvak back to the desk. They both took seats.
Kuvak looked pensive. "The city art repository has requested permission to display the painting for a year. Logically, I recognize that it would be the proper thing to do. Yet I find myself curiously reluctant to let it leave my possession. Perhaps after I have had a bit more time to internalize the salient aspects of the work, I may find myself more amenable to the suggestion."
"A work of such complexity will require substantial time and meditation to fully assimilate," S'Tor offered. "Perhaps Anna would be willing to prepare a different graphic for display at the repository?"
Kuvak looked startled. "The idea had not occurred to me. It is a superb suggestion, and one that I will certainly pass along to her."
S'Tor inclined his head. "I am here to serve."
"What progress has been made with the crew of Vahklas?" the Minister wanted to know.
S'Tor presented his data PADD to Kuvak and began report, "As directed, the personnel of Vahklas were segregated for individual screening - both physical and mental. The information provided by Chief Minister T'Pau was accurate. Three members of the crew are suffering from Pa'anar syndrome. The senior pilot, Tolaris, suffers the most advanced case and is seriously impaired."
Kuvak maintained a rigidly intact expression of indifference. Of course. "Treatment has been arranged?"
"Yes," S'Tor assured him. "A senior priest is en route from the retreat at Mt. Seleya to perform the initial meld. Afterward, they will be placed in the mental ward at Shi'Kahr University Hospital for continued treatment under the supervision of the healer-melders."
Kuvak told him, "Satisfactory. What of the rest of the crew?"
"Their physical condition ranges from optimum to slightly sub-optimum," S'Tor told him. "But none of them carry any communicable hazards. The process of integrating them into society is underway." He paused and looked uncomfortable. "Several of Assistant Minister Kov's former colleagues in the engineering section aboard Vahklas have made a specific request."
Kuvak tensed faintly. "What request?"
Speaking with careful precision, S'Tor said, "They wish to apply for employment with the Humans. Since their most senior engineering member was offered a position aboard a Human starship, the remaining Vahklas engineers speculate that they might be able to obtain positions with the Human's warp upgrade project."
Kuvak looked thoughtful. "A surprisingly logical plan. I will forward a request to Captain Tucker to meet with me on the matter. Charles has proven himself to be a true follower of the IDIC principle. Moreover, he and his fellow Humans will inherently have a high level of tolerance for the... emotional surges the V'Tosh Katur exhibit."
"I will inform them of this, Minister," S'Tor said grimly. Kuvak raised two fingers.
"There is no requirement for you to interface with them further, S'Tor," Kuvak told him. "I will arrange a direct laison through my own office. You have done your duty well. I will report as much to my son when he returns."
S'Tor stood and bowed. "It is most agreeable to hear this, Minister. If I am needed further, do not hesitate to call upon me." He turned and left the office, determined to find an appropriate place to meditate immediately. It was absolutely not acceptable for a civil servant, especially at his elevated level, to feel an almost irresistable urge to burst into song.
"This is one hell of a place for a business meeting," Trip declared, banking the air car and coming in for a landing at the edge of the mountain's ledge.
"Indeed," Lorat agreed disapprovingly. "It is a most inapprorpiate venue."
"Not entirely, krei," Sulden disputed. "The corporation originated as a consortium between caravans, with this mountain fortress being their designated meeting place for the yearly division of assets."
"That was 4600 years ago, krei," Lorat pointed out. "The company has been operating out of modern offices in K'Haril, adjacent to the shipyards themselves, for sixteen centuries."
"Doesn't look like there'll be much in the way of amenities in there," Trip remarked, shutting off the engine. "Like climate control or running water. Most likely they picked this spot to run off the pesky Human intruder."
"Beyond question you are correct, Charles," Lorat didn't fume. Vulcans don't fume. But if he were Human he would have been fuming.
"I recommend that you fill a water container, Charles," Sulden suggested. "Perhaps you might also wish to drink your fill before we enter."
"Good thought," Trip agreed. He opened the car's built in cooler and pulled out three bottles of water. He cracked the top on one and started draining it.
Getting into the fortress was a pain. After examining Trip's identification every way possible, and running Trip himself through every biometric scan known to Vulcan-kind, the guard grudgingly acknowledged his right to enter. But he tried to stop Lorat and Sulden.
"This meeting is for shareholders only," He side stepped and blocked the gateway.
Trip was about fed up already, and they weren't even inside yet. But since that was the whole point he couldn't let it show. Instead he smiled and said, "They are shareholders. This morning I personally made them a gift of one share each. And they are here at my personal invitation. Read the bylaws. As a shareholder owning more than 10% of the corporation's voting stock, I hold the irrefutable right to invite up to three witness/advisors to any meeting I choose." He let the smile broaden. "Now get out of the way or I'll personally insert a formal report of incompetence into your employment file."
The guard actually glowered as he stepped aside, which Trip chalked up as a new one. He had never seen a Vulcan glowering before. Look irritated, certainly. Sneer, on rare occasions. Glare, yes, once or twice. But never a full-fledged glower. "It was worth the trip just for that," he reflected.
The main hall wasn't what Trip expected. He had been looking forward to something like an old English castle, with a big main entrace and a tall ceiling. Instead they entered a low roofed passageway that had been roughly stacked together out of native stone. It didn't even look like mortar was used. Big slabs overhead provided a roof of sorts.
The far end of the passage led to a winding stairway carved out of solid rock that hugged the side of the mountain. It was steep, and narrow, and completely exposed to sun and wind. Ater five minutes Trip called a break to wheeze. His companions waited with no sign of impatience.
"Guys," he panted. "Please... don't take... this the wrong... way but... I really hate... your planet." He bent over and grabbed his knees while sweat beaded and dripped off his face.
"It is also unfortunate that the meeting is being held at midday," Lorat said flatly, looking up the trail. "Would you prefer to be carried, Charles?"
Trip hacked a laugh and straightened up. "Not while I'm conscious. I made it through the Forge on that damn Kahs-Wahn. I can make it up this hill. I'm just a little slow, that's all." He turned and resumed trudging.
"I am reminded," Sulden said. "I am told that it is Human custom to offer congratulations to someone who has successfully achieved a goal after great effort. Completing the Kahs-Wahn was a respectable accomplishment on your part, Charles."
"Indeed," Lorat agreed.
"Thanks," Trip said shortly. "Almost didn't. Barely made it." He saved the rest of his air for climbing.
A cave at the top of the mountain had been hollowed out and smoothed into a meeting hall. The original entrance had also been supplemented by cutting window-like openings into the sidewalls of the cavern at its thinner points. This, plus the burning torches and firebeasts, allowed sufficient light for Vulcan eyes to function.
Trip had no problem at all with the lighting. The torches and firebeasts however, added a little extra warmth that he really didn't need. The only gap in the two benches was on the far side of the table, between two flaming bowls and in front of a firebeast. He sighed and headed that way.
Sulden and Lorat entered right behind him, causing an uncomfortable stirring among the gathered stockholders. Apparently many of the Vulcans present recognized Trip's companions and were less than overjoyed to see them.
For his part, Trip was less than overjoyed to see Koss sitting at the table, right next to the Moderator. Next to Koss was some old guy that Trip had never seen before. Then two more middle-aged men who looked vaguely familar. On the far side of the table, facing the full glare of the sunlit entrance, were three young men who had an expression of "what am I doing here?" stamped on their faces.
When Trip sat down Lorat grabbed the firebeast and carried it to the far end of the cave, while Sulden relocated the torches. Disapproval marked several faces, but no one offered a peep of objection. Lorat and Sulden took positions standing behind Trip's shoulders with their hands folded together, in the position that Trip privately thought of as "Vulcan parade rest".
The geezer at the head of the table, whose name was... Trip couldn't remember it to save his ass... clacked a rock on the surface and spoke. "Since all of the shareholders who have served notice of attendance have finally arrived," he looked straight at Trip, "this meeting will come to order."
Trip raised two fingers immediately, before anyone else had a chance to say or do anything. The geezer... Stark, that was his name, looked around but could see no valid excuse for not recognizing him. "Shareholder Charles Tucker, speak."
"Two points, Moderater," Trip told him calmly. "First point. Your initial implication of tardiness is inaccurate and illogical, since the meeting was not scheduled to begin until precisely noon, and it still lacks three minutes and... eleven seconds until that time." Stark's face darkened. "Second point. I was not notified of this meeting by any official channel. I formally accuse the board of an egregious and malicious violation of the corporation bylaws, and I hereby serve notice that this violation has been reported to the Security Directorate."
CRACK.
The stone hit the table's surface like thunder. "You deliberate attempt to disrupt this meeting is sufficient cause to remove you-"
"Incorrect." Sulden's voice sliced through the room and drew all eyes to him. "Charles Tucker's first point is valid, but irrelevant to the business of this meeting. His second point is both valid and relevant. Since Charles Tucker was awarded his shares in this corporation by the Security Directorate as direct victim's compensation for criminal attack, it is certainly within his rights to notify the Security Directorate if he has evidence of a conspiracy to deny him full access to that compensation."
Total silence enveloped the room. Trip kept his eyes on the Moderator, as was proper ettiquette. But from the corner of his field of view he noticed at least one of the middle-aged guys looking troubled. Koss was turning an interesting shade of emerald-brown.
"You have not been recognized," the Moderator finally managed. "Your remarks will be stricken."
"Doesn't matter," Trip said conversationally. "This is Sulden, chief counsel and legal advisor to T'Para, Eldest Mother of Clan... "Here we go. Please, don't let me screw it up."...Sh'hiran'..lin'iijyliunh'...rei'iy'iukn'...hy'wen'...lhia'...ehrm'n. His companion is Lorat, chief accounting officer for the clan.
"Your ongoing pattern of unwarranted and unprovoked hostility toward my client has been duly noted, and will be added to the report that is currently on file with the Security Directorate," Sulden told the Moderator. "Now, since your choice of meeting venue was obviously chosen to inflict maximum discomfort on my client, we will depart."
He placed a standard Fleet issue datacorder on the table. "I will require a full and complete recording, including all audio and visual input, in addition to all documentation of this meeting, to be provided to my office no later than sunset tomorrow."
"Unacceptable." Koss was seething. "This is the regular bi-annual meeting. If your client is physically incapable of attending, it is not the responsibility of this board to undertake extraordinary efforts on his behalf."
Trip closed his eyes and his mind. He pictured T'Para's meditation garden, with her sparkling fountain. Cool silence. Soft breaths.
"Ordinarily you would be correct," Sulden corrected Koss. "However given the willful disregard for law and custom that has been displayed by this board, I believe we can make a compelling case before the High Council that such efforts are justified."
"Why would the High Council be interested in a routine stockholder's meeting?" The question, out of order, came from the same middle-aged Vulcan that Trip had noticed looking troubled earlier.
"Shareholder Jorin, you have not been recognized," the Moderator blustered.
"Nor was Shareholder Koss," he returned bluntly, "yet he was permitted to speak unhindered. I repeat my question for Sulden. Why would the High Council care about this?" The three oldest members and Koss all winced.
"Were you not aware," Sulden surveyed him curiously, "that Shareholder Captain Charles Tucker is also in charge of the Human warp upgrade project? Further, that it was only through Shareholder Captain Tucker's intercession that Starfleet agreed to have the upgraded Human engines built at K'Haril?"
Jorin's face tightened. "I was not aware of the last part of your statement." He looked at Trip.
Trip shrugged. "It was in the best interest of my people. Both of my peoples." He looked at the Moderator. "Or so I thought at the time."
Jorin said tightly, "I will personally see to it that your request is honored." He looked toward the head of the table. "This clan has already been dishonored through the actions of Subminister V'Rald. I, for one, refuse to permit further dishonor to accrue. You will receive your recording and all pertinent documentation prior to sundown tomorrow."
For once, Trip didn't feel like the least popular person in the room. Every eye from Clan Tren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac was burning a hole through poor Jorin, who didn't seem very worried about it.
Lorat tapped Trip's shoulder lightly and quickly. The Human came to himself. Time to make a break for it. He quietly stood up and the trio got halfway around the table before anyone noticed.
"And thus, the vaunted Human warrior retreats," Koss growled sourly.
It happened in a fraction of a second - before Trip could finish inhaling. The only thing that kept the meeting cave from turning into an bloodpit was T'Para's long hours of patient tutelage. Trip stopped himself before he made the second step toward his enemy's throat.
He closed his eyes and half turned, throwing his mind desperately in the modified form of the Disciplines that he, T'Para, and T'Pol had hammered out between them for his use. He sucked strength from the matebond the way he had drained water from the seep he discovered on his survival test. All external sensory input shut down, his mind was turned inward. Nothing mattered but the fire in his blood, and the need to cool it before it reached critical mass again.
Finally he opened his eyes, to find everyone in the cave watching him. Sulden and Lorat were flanking him on either side, ready to either restrain him or back him up as required. He felt a sudden surge of affection for the pair.
Koss had spun on the bench and was sitting ready, with his eyes glittering. It suddenly hit Trip. "He wants it. But he wants me to start it."
Not surprising, really. Trip had humiliated him at T'Pol's Gathering, and then he had sent his uncle to prison. And Koss was a fool, so naturally he wanted a piece of Trip. The face that Trip was a trained Starfleet officer with more combat experience than deskbound Koss was capable of imagining would never be able to penetrate his ethno-centric head.
So Trip smiled graciously. "Retreat? I was not aware that this was a battlefield. I came here to discuss lawful business. Does your remark perhaps indicate a desire to declare war?"
Koss stiffened and the Moderator broke in, "No. Koss made an unfortunate attempt at emulating the Human custom of joking. It appears that he was unsucessful. No hostility was intended or implied." Stark looked warily at Trip's Vulcan escort, neither of whom let anything get past their poker faces.
Jorin weighed in thoughtfully, looking at Koss, "It would be in the best interest of this corporation, and the greater clan itself, for all parties present to concentrate their efforts on production rather than bickering over past events." He turned to Trip and offered the ta'al. "It has been both agreeable and enlightening to meet you, Captain Tucker. I wish you peace and long life."
"Um. Live long and prosper," Trip told him, holding up his hand. "I regret that I am unable to make the proper gesture due to... an injury I suffered some time ago." Jorin inclined his head.
They were halfway down the stairway before Trip began to get his shaking under control. When the reached the air car he slumped against the shaded side for a moment, just gasping and sweating. Lorat keyed the door open and helped him inside.
"Thanks, guys," Trip sat back and dug out a fresh bottle of water from the onboard cooler. "I never would have made it without you two. Especially... never mind. Would either of you like something liquid?"
Sulden glanced at Lorat and told him, "We are both adequately hydrated at the moment. However, you should certainly take the time to replenish your bodies fluid and electrolyte balance."
Trip nodded and cracked the cap. He upended the half liter bottle and drained it in one long, slow swallow. The two Vulcans looked first amazed, and then slightly alarmed.
"Are you unwell, Charles?" Lorat wanted to know. "The hospital is quite near."
Trip chuckled. "I'm fine. Or I will be fine. I just need some time here in Human normal temperature and a chance to get some water in me. That meeting room was starting to drain me pretty dry."
"It was entirely inappropriate for the board to arrange the meeting in such a location," Sulden said, with hooded eyes. "Would you like one of us to drive?"
"Feel free." Trip slid over to the co-pilot seat and let Lorat move into driver's position. He dropped the empty into the trash box and pulled out another water bottle. This time he dropped in a couple salt tabs before pouring half of it down his throat.
"Are you quite sure you do not require medical attention, Charles?" Sulden persisted. "I have never seen anyone intake so much water so quickly."
Trip chuckled. "Earth climate varies a lot, so my people have adapted for different extremes. My ancestors lived in a cold and damp region. I don't handle dry heat very well."
"I confess to surprise at the degree of open hostility exhibited," Lorat offered as they took off. "It seems most illogical."
Trip pulled the bottle away from his lips. "They're still pissed about what happened at the Gathering. On top of putting V'Rald away. Nobody likes getting busted. Getting busted twice because of the same guy has got to be rubbing them raw."
"Those matters have been settled," Lorat stated. "The issue of violating the Tehlp'hlat standards has been dealt with. V'Rald has been tried and convicted. The logical course of action would be to consign the issues to the unfortunate past and concentrate on building an effective working relationship."
"I get the impression that Clan Tren... the Clan Koss belongs to didn't dive headfirst into the Kirshara like you guys did," Trip said in amusement. "They want payback."
"Pay? For what, Charles?" Lorat sounded confused. "What did you purchase and fail to pay for?"
"Sorry, Human slang. Payback means revenge," Trip said. Both Vulcans flinched.
"I sincerely hope that we have progressed beyond the point of such petty obesessions," Lorat said.
"Unfortunately not," Sulden told him. "I wish I could believe that. However my occupation precludes such an optimistic worldview. A distressingly large number of cases are brought into the court system for nothing more nor less than simple revenge."
"Illogical and counterproductive," Lorat said tiredly.
"But understandable," Trip noted. "Or at least, I think I understand them. Emotional motivation is something I don't have any trouble wrapping my mind around."
"A useful skill," Sulden told him. "I noted during the negotiations that your ability to interface with the Andorians was remarkably effective."
Trip snorted. "Thanks. I think. Andorians are highly charged even by Human standards. It would do them all a world of good to take up meditating." He finished the second bottle and dropped it in the disposal. "How many... five. That makes five since we left the factory. I better stop for a while."
"I was favorably impressed, Charles," Lorat spoke impassively, keeping his eyes on his flying, "by your own self-control during the meeting." Trip sighed.
"I am of the opinion," Sulden offered, "that Koss was deliberately attempting to provoke you into an open display of anger. Perhaps even violence. You did well, young man." His tone and phrasing was that of an Elder to a younger clan member, and Trip suddenly felt like a school kid being given a gold star.
"I...um." Trip cleared his throat. "Thanks. That means a lot. I've worked hard on learning how to keep my temper." He looked out the side window. "I knew Koss would be there, so I had time to get my mind set for it. I had to be ready to block whatever he threw at me."
"You anticipated his attempt at provocation?" Lorat asked.
Trip did not answer immediately. "I figured he might try to piss me off. But either way, I had to be ready to keep control." The two Vulcans were silent for a brief time.
"I would seem that you and Koss both retain some residual animosity towards each other," Sulden spoke delicately.
"I wanna kill him," Trip said bluntly. "I'm never gonna stop wanting to kill him. Not while I'm alive." Silence resumed.
Lorat said, with exquisite care, "The Eldest Mother is an acknowledged expert in-"
"She already spent months working with me and T'Pol," Trip interrupted him. "She's the reason I'm not in a Starfleet stockade right now."
"I see," Lorat said. He adjusted their heading silently.
"Is there evidence," Sulden finally asked, "that Koss was in collusion with his uncle in the attempts on you and your family's lives?"
"That's not it," Trip told him tiredly. "You both know about T'Pol's..." He locked his teeth. "What happened when..." He hissed out his breath.
"Charles?" Sulden sounded concerned.
Trip shook his head. "You both know about T'Pol's... wedding." He forced it out. The two Vulcans exchanged a swift glance.
"Yes," Lorat told him. "We know."
"I stood there," Trip said, looking out the window and seeing nothing. "I just stood there and did nothing. I didn't say a word or raise my hand. While that son of bitch took my woman!" He bowed his head and squeezed his eyes shut. His knuckles grew white on the arm rests.
"Your actions were honorable, Charles," Sulden assured him quietly. "You choice to withdraw was based on your concern for T'Pol's welfare."
"It meant nothing!"
The words hung in the air like a bare blade. Trip kept his eyes closed and concentrated on re-establishing control. "There was no point in it. T'Less made a break for the Forge. Koss' family wasn't going to protect her anyway. It was all a lie. I gave up my woman, my self-respect..." He stopped to breathe hard.
"Their dishonor does not detract from your decision, Charles," Sulden said. "T'Pol will always remember what you did."
"Yeah," Trip said bitterly. "She'll always remember that I stood by like a nutless wonder, too cowardly to fight for her. That's what she'll remember." He turned to look out the window. "If I knew then about the right of gasrak challenge, Koss would never have lived long enough to see the ceremony. But I didn't. So now I get to spend the rest of my life remembering how I stood there and let that scum sucking son of pig strut up and take my woman away from me while I stood there and did nothing." He was shaking.
"Have you discussed this with T'Pol," Lorat asked him. "I sincerely doubt that she regards it the way that you describe."
"Doesn't matter how she regards it," Trip told them. "It's how it FEELS to me." Silence fell again. It stayed quiet for a very long time. The spires of Shi'Kahr were coming into distant view when Sulden spoke again.
"Is there any assistance that we can offer, Charles?"
Trip was leaning back against the headrest. He didn't move when he answered. "No. My mind knows that I did what was ethically right. My brain tells me that I did the morally correct thing. But this has nothing to do with my brain. This is down in my balls. This is in my blood. My mind says one thing, but my instinct tells me that I let that..." He stopped to sigh. "My instinct tells me that I let another man take my woman away from me and didn't even try to stop him. My instincts tell me I acted like a spineless coward. And all the meditation, all the pep talks in the world aren't going to change that. Even if I killed the sonuvabitch, it wouldn't change anything. The memory would still be there."
"Yet ultimately," Lorat pointed out, "she chose you."
"Because he threw her away," Trip said. "Not because she chose me. Because he threw her away, and then she realized that she had bonded me by accident. Not because she deliberately chose me. She didn't. She just ended up with me by default."
The bitterness crept up into his voice again and he rubbed his forehead. "I could kill him. I have friends who would be willing to help me. The Andorians think they owe me an honor debt. Even some of my old shipmates would probably be willing to help me. I could make it happen. Probably even get away with it. But what difference would it make?"
"If you do not desire to remain with T'Pol, you are not required to do so," Sulden said flatly.
Trip coughed out a strangled laugh. "Right. Severing the bond would probably kill me. Even if it didn't, you think I'm going to abandon my babies? But the thing is... I don't want to leave her." He smiled painfully. "That's the most humiliating part. I still love her. I still want her, even after all of this. Most of the time I don't even think about it. I try with everything I am not to let it bother me. But sometimes... like when I see that rat licking, goat humping son of..." He stopped. "Like when I see Koss, It all comes back and hits me like a club between the eyes again."
"We will be landing in 4.7 minutes Trip," Lorat told him. "Which destination would you prefer? The factory port or the main city terminal?"
Trip rubbed his forehead with both hands. "City terminal please, if you don't mind. I think I want to visit the Terran embassy. I could use workout and a swim to get rid of some tension."
"A logical suggestion," Lorat turned the aircar and headed for the center of the city.
TBC