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.
A/N: This is another afterthought to my series "The Road Once Traveled", and is a direct sequel to Kov + Hess . It picks up immediately after the other one stops. I'm afraid this one is going to be a bit longer than the previous story though.
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.
Anyone is welcome to use anything I invent in these fan fics as long as they don't make any money off it. I also appreciate it when they take the time to give me a brief nod. Otherwise help yourself.
Chapter 4
Trip walked through the open front door feeling puzzled. The unfamiliar vehicles parked in front of his house bore the distinctive attachments and tool storage units of construction workers. A large power conduit stretched the length of his front hallway and disappeared around the corner leading to the sleeping rooms. A growling rumble worked its way up from the floor, through his shoes, ankles and knees, until it finally started rattling his teeth.
"T'Pol?"
He started working his way cautiously along the passageway, wondering what had happened. Just before he reached the corner, his wife stepped out wearing coveralls and dust. She flashed him a clandestine smile and said, "Adun. Welcome home. Come to the kitchen where it is quieter."
T'Pol slid the kitchen portal shut with a soft thump. To Trip's relief, the solid metal door blocked almost all of the noise from his dull Human ears. She turned and opened the cooler, extracting the pitcher and mug that was obviously waiting for him. Trip took them with absent gratitude, torn between drinking and talking.
He compromised. After one gulp he demanded, "What's going on here?" T'Pol's eyes danced with the mischief that only he was ever allowed to see. Trip cracked a smile. Whatever was happening, it was well worth the noise and dust if it improved her mood this much.
"The workers," she explained, "are installing grav neutralizers in our sleeping chamber and your office."
"What?" Despite his determination not to ruin her mood, Trip couldn't stop himself. "T'Pol, you know we can't afford that. Those things cost-"
"Nothing," she said firmly. "They are being provided as a gift from the Eldest."
Trip stopped cold with his mouth open. His tongue and dried out instantly that way, so he closed it and took another sip of water. "T'Para... she... why?"
"When she learned of your issues with the gravity here, she determined that it was in the best interest of the clan to assist me in maintaining your health," T'Pol explained with a perfectly straight face.
Trip blinked. "I see. She just said, 'Take them,' and that was all of it?"
"Essentially," T'Pol confirmed. "Attempting to dissuade the Eldest to alter a decision once she has made it is an exercise in futility, as you well know."
"Oh yeah." He rubbed his brow. "I know. But did it occur to you check with me before talking to her about this?"
"No." T'Pol's voice was quite firm. "This matter falls within my responsibility as the mother of our house. It is my duty to ensure that each member of this family receives proper care and attention whether physical or psychological. Your health has been suffering. It is my job as a Vulcan wife to deal with this issue." She softened. "The grav neutralizers will not solve the issue long term. But they will provide you with some much needed relief in the short term. This matter is not negotiable, husband."
Trip looked at her for a long moment. One thing that their time together had begun to teach him was when to fold his cards and walk away from the table. This time, he could clearly see that T'Pol was holding a royal flush while he was stuck with a pair of deuces. On Vulcan, the women ruled all household and family matters. And that meant ALL of them.
"I admit that it might be a relief to sleep at night under Earth gravity," Trip sighed. T'Pol rewarded him with another of her nearly instantaneous stealth smiles. Then she gave him a quick peck and sat him down at the table. She pulled out a chair and propped his still dusty feet on the seat, to Trip's astonishment. "What -"
"You need to rest," T'Pol told him. "The family room is not in a usable condition at the moment. This is the best makeshift that I can arrange on short notice. The installation is taking longer than anticipated, since I did not expect them to bring enough grav neutralizers for both rooms. If it is not finished when you return from work tomorrow, I will have a more comfortable arrangement prepared."
"Good gravy," Trip muttered. "I'm not an invalid."
"Nor do I intend to permit you to become one," she notified him sharply. "Are you laboring under the delusion that you have hidden from me the extent of your increasing discomfort? After repeatedly pointing out to me the futility of my attempts to hide anything from you in the bond?"
Trip winced. "All right. I'm busted. My feet have been hurting worse lately. I need to get some better shoes."
"Your feet have been hurting," T'Pol told him, pouring a cup of coffee. "Your back has been hurting. Your knees have been hurting. Your hips, shoulders, neck, and wrists have been hurting. Your elbows have been chronically bruised, as have your ribs. Your digestion has been -."
"OK." He raised a hand. "All right. You win. The gravity is getting to me sometimes. But it's mainly because of the long hours I'm putting in right now."
"Your work schedule is not helping," T'Pol started slicing an apple. "This makes it all the more important for you to rest comfortably when you are home." She handed him the apple and Trip started munching.
"That's good." He engulfed it in record time, earning a sharp look.
"You skipped your midday meal again." T'Pol extracted various and sundry items and started dinner.
"Had to this time." Trip raised a defensive hand at her doubtful glance. "Seriously. There was a fight on the factory floor. I had to break it up and then spend my lunch hour filling out paperwork."
T'Pol stopped peeling. "A fight? Please specify." She looked concerned.
"Nothing drastic," he told her. "Like I told you before, I've been trying hard to keep the Vulcans on this project and the Andorian consultants away from each other. Usually it's no problem. The few times they do need to work together, I can break the ice by giving them something in common. I show them some kind of Human equipment that's inferior to what they both have so they can sneer at it, or whatever. After that, they start thinking of themselves as superior types working together to help out us primitives. It keeps the peace."
"That is quite manipulative," T'Pol told him, with a glint in her eye.
"Yeah, it is," he admitted. "But it works. Once they're together for a day or two, they forget about hating each other. An engineer is an engineer first, no matter what planet he's from. But today things happened too quick. We had a liason come in from the Andorian embassy while I was out in the testing booth running a diagnostic on the new coolant regulators. Anyway, somehow he got into it with one of the Vulcan techs about what happened...," Trip looked uncomfortable, "you know, when the Kirshara got found. I had to go out and break it up. It wasn't pretty." His expression tightened.
T'Pol put down the peeler and straddled his lap, facing him. She settled herself carefully, making sure to keep some of her weight off him. Her fingers found the familiar spots automatically, and she saw her adun's face relax. "Oh, that's nice. If it wasn't for neuro-pressure, I wouldn't make it."
"It offers substantial benefit to me as well," T'Pol told him. Trip took the hint and reached around to the proper points on her back. He got rewarded by the looked of subdued bliss in her eyes. "Your technique is becoming flawless, husband."
"That is most agreeable to hear,wife," Trip whispered. He leaned forward and kissed the side of her neck. "How's my technique with this?"
She shivered and drew back reluctantly. "You are a past master at stimulating me, husband, as you well know. But I must feed you. Then we need to go to the Eldest's residence where T'Lissa is waiting."
"I wondered where you stashed our little runaway warp core." Trip leaned back and watched with a tired smile as she returned to peeling and chopping. "She out digging in the lurfy vines again?"
T'Pol paused with an odd expression. "In fact, one of the first things she said when we arrived was to inquire about the lourfi vines. But she stayed for another reason."
Trip watched her rake the peelings into the mulching bin and considered. Their matebond informed him that something important was associated with T'Lissa's visit to the Eldest. T'Pol had not immediately volunteered a full explanation, which meant that the subject made her uncomfortable. He spent a moment considering possibilities before he opened his mouth. He really was starting to learn. Slowly.
"Does this reason," he asked slowly, "involve "T'Lissa's health or safety?"
T'Pol took a deep breath and turned away from the sink. "She is in no immediate danger, and she is not ill. I did not meant to generate unwarranted concern. She stayed because I requested that one of the clan, a Healer who specializes in telepathy, evaluate T'Lissa's abilities and rate of development."
"Oh." Trip blinked and relaxed. "Is that all? Good idea. Kerlek is a good guy, but he's not an expert with mental development. I'm glad you thought of that. In fact, it might not hurt to have her checked out by a Human psychologist too. I doubt that her growth matches either set of standards."
"A logical suggestion," T'Pol said quietly, turning back to her work.
Trip watched her a moment more. His words had helped, but something was still bothering her. Something that she wanted to talk to him about, but wasn't sure how to bring up. That particular flavor of nervous hesitation was starting to become very familiar.
"Are you going to tell me the rest of it?" he finally asked. She stopped, then slumped.
Without looking at Trip, she told him, "The reason that I asked krei Jul to examine T'Lissa is due to a bad dream she had two nights ago. I suspect that she telepathically contacted your mind in her sleep." Her knuckles tightened. So did Trip's temples.
"I see," he said softly. "Two nights ago? Did she tell you what the dream was about?"
"Yes."
He waited. "And?"
T'Pol turned to face him with a distressed look in her eyes. "She told me that she dreamed about you fighting someone." He looked away and nodded.
"You think your cousin can teach me how to shield myself when I sleep?"
"I... do not know." T'Pol took a deep breath. "My primary concern in this matter is teaching T'Lissa to avoid touching other minds without intending to." She looked at him. "For now, I suggest that we focus on our dinner. We can discuss this matter at length during the trip to the Eldest Mother's home. You are distressingly hungry and tired."
Trip forced a smile. "You got me. All right. What can I do to help?" She handed him a bowl of strawberries and he started picking stems.
#
Senior Diplomatic Attache Koret stood at rigid attention and listened with a stone face while his career crashed and burned.
Ambassador Kilruym raged and cursed as he paced back and forth in front of his desk. He struck Koret across the face with the PADD he was holding and demanded, "Well? Do you have the slightest trace of an excuse? Can you offer any explanation at all to mitigate your behavior?"
Koret stared straight ahead, ignoring the blue patch on his face. His antenna had long since drawn down as close to his scalp as they could go. Only his trembling betrayed the power of his emotion. "No, Ambassador. I offer my life in atonement."
Kilruym made an animal sound of disgust. "Your life? What kind of atonement is that? How would that solve anything? What would it accomplish except to let you escape the consequences of your idiocy? No, Junior Clerk Koret. There is entirely too much scutwork to be done around here. Report to Udira in the stockroom for assignment. And I advise you most seriously never to let me see your face again while you are posted here. Understand?"
"Understood, Ambassador." Koret did an about face and marched out, miserably wondering how he was going to tell his family about this.
Kilruym threw the PADD down on his desk hard enough to crack it. No matter, the contents were unfortunately already embedded in the main database. From whence in due time they would be dispatched to Andoria. Following shortly thereafter he would no doubt receive an inquiry from his superiors regarding what kind of incompetent fool would allow such a thing to happen.
Kilruym threw himself down in his chair with only slightly less force than he had used on the PADD and triggered the comm. Perhaps he could make a pre-emptive strike. If he could show that he had already taken steps to correct the problem, the High Command might not actually execute him.
His personal secretary appeared on the screen. He ordered, "Set up a tight beam subspace connection to the embassy on Earth. Top level encryption. Code Blue." Her eyes widened. "Face to face between me and Ambassador Thrella only. Immediate response. I don't care if she is asleep, mating with her lover, or in the sanitary disposal. Tell them to drag her to the comm."
Kilruym leaned back and surreptitiously rubbed the bases of both antennae. He wanted a cup of chocolate. Badly. It was his own fault of course. He had been warned. More than one Human had told him that it was mildly addictive even to them. The Vulcans found it so threatening to their self-discipline that they banned it's importation altogether. He gritted his teeth. It was not acceptable for a warrior to be bound to a craving like this. Suddenly he stood up and headed for the side buffet. He pulled out an elaborately carved crystal decanter and poured a glass of ale. It wasn't hot cocoa, not even close. But it was better than nothing.
The console buzzed and he drained the glass in a single slug. Kilruym hit the chair and spun it in a single dive, to find his colleague's face watching from the viewscreen wearing inquisitive antennae.
"Kilruym," the Andorian ambassador to Earth began wryly, "I'm flattered. Truly I am. Who would have thought that one drunken evening during our first year at academy would leave such a yearning etched upon you? Not that I haven't missed you too, of course."
"Thrella." Kilruym sighed. "If I were not truly in need, I would enjoy trading jabs with you. But I am beset, old comrade. I need reinforcement."
"Old, is it? Speak for yourself, Kilruym," she grunted. "What hole have you fallen through this time?"
He winced and rubbed his antennae openly, heedless of propriety. He had known Thrella too long and too well to dissemble with her. "One of my attaches... former attaches ... came very close to ruining everything today. I'm in trouble, Thrella. Before the high Command reads the report, I need to present them with some proof that it won't happen again."
"What happened?" Thrella leaned forward looking concerned. She tilted her head and her antennae bent forward. Teasing went out the airlock when an old friend really needed help.
Kilruym groaned softly and told her, "A fight. The iceworm begotten idiot got into a fight with one of the Vulcan technicians that was assisting the Humans with their engine upgrade project. Right there on the factory floor. Captain Tucker had to come out of the testing booth and seperate them with his own hands." He finally looked up to find her regarding him with sorrowful sympathy.
"Oh... Kil..." She grimaced. "Anyone dead? Permanent damage?"
"Dead? No, all praise to the Mother. Permanent damage? That depends I suppose, on how well this is handled. No serious injuries or equipment broken. But Captain Tucker sent me a copy of the recordings from his security monitors. Naturally, they are constantly monitoring and recording every step of the work on their prototype." Thrella nodded understanding. "Human security monitors caught the whole thing. Permit me." He closed his eyes in pain and pressed a key to transmit the file.
The screen formed an insert showing a view from slightly more than a man height above the floor of what was obviously a factory. A mixed group of Humans and Vulcans were working at benches and consoles scattered throughouut the area. An Andorian wearing formal business clothing stepped into view briefly and looked around. He spoke to one of the Humans, who replied and pointed to a Vulcan. The Andorian made a face and said something to the Vulcan, who straightened up with obvious displeasure and replied briefly. The Andorian flushed and stepped closer, while the Human looked alarmed. A few more words were passed and suddenly the Andorian and the Vulcan were locked in unarmed combat.
Thrella, obviously searching for something that might make her friend feel a bit better, muttered, "At least it looks like it was a fair fight?"
"He went there to deliver an invitation to a dinner party!"
Kilruym groaned and rested his head on his clenched fists. "But that's not even the worst of it. Let me turn on the sound for the ending, after Tucker comes out. You recall Captain Tucker? The one that the Council voted a Hero of the Andorian people? The one to whom our entire planet owes an honor debt?"
"Yes, Kilruym," Thrella told him patiently, "I remember."
"Then listen to what Captain Tucker had to say about this situation." He activated the sound and turned his head away.
Tucker: "Look guys. I realize that your people have been fighting a long time. But you're gonna have to hold it in when you step in here. This is my place and I'm responsible for what happens in here. Come on, let's settle it down."
Unknown Vulcan: "Understood, Captain. I was simply defending myself against an unprovoked attack."
Former Attache Koret: "Unprovoked! You lying-"
Tucker: "Hold it! That's enough! Stop it right now, both of you. Pojik, how about you go check out the stress tolerances on that modified cross-over bridge for me. Will you do that please?"
[Kilruym heard the sound of footsteps walking away]
Tucker: "Look... what's your name anyway?
Koret: "I am Senior Attache Koret from the embassy."
Tucker: "A diplomat? Ok, if you say so. But don't do something like this again. If you can't control youself around Vulcans, then stay out. You're making me look bad. I had call in a lot of favors and swear every oath a Human knows to make this happen. This kind of incident makes me look bad to Starfleet Command, and it makes me look bad to my wife's clan. And it also makes my wife's clan look bad to the Vulcan government. It dishonors me in every direction. One of your people should understand what I'm talking about, right?"
Koret: "I... I did not... I apologize Captain Tucker. I should never have allowed my anger to overcome my judgement like that. I implore your forgiveness, both on my own behalf and on behalf of my people."
Tucker: "Don't worry about it. Just don't let it happen again. I can't have this kind of thing disrupting my people."
Kilruym turned back. "Now you see?"
Thrella nodded slowly. "You were right. This is serious. Aside from the potential damage to relations with the Humans and Vulcans..."
He made an impatient gesture. "I'm not concerned about that. Trask is a reasonable being. And this new leader the greenbloods have, T'Pau, acts almost sane sometimes. But when the High Command hears that one of my staff was responsible for publicly shaming a Hero of the People, I'll be lucky if all they do is shoot me."
"Perhaps I can help with that," Thrella offered. "From Tucker's wording and tone, I don't think the matter is critical yet. Rather, it sounded like a stern warning that was intended to prevent the matter from becoming critical. I don't believe the situation is beyond repair."
Kilruym felt twin knots on his scalp begin to loosen the tinest bit. "Are you sure?"
"No one is ever sure about anything when it comes to Humans, Kil," Thrella told him seriously. "But from everything I have seen since coming here, and everything I have read about the man, I don't think he was actually enraged. Merely unhappy."
Kilruym slumped in profound relief. "But I dare not take the chance of anything like this happening again, Thrella. I need someone from your embassy. Someone accustomed to dealing with humans, to act as a liason with Tucker and his people. I wasn't trained in Human sociology or psychology. All of my studies were focused on Vulcan."
"A good idea," Thrella told him. "A very good idea. We should have done that from the start. But as my father always said, one learns quickest from mistakes. I presume you want a generalist?"
"Absolutely. There's no telling where they might have to go or who they might have to interact with." Kilruym paused to consider. "What about the two that I talked to before? During that three way link with General Skrilla and Commander Shran? What were their names? Thyr... something? And..."
"Thyren and Lethos. My primary Intel operatives," she told him. "I'm sorry, Kil. I can't spare them. I just can't. It would cripple my operational readiness here."
Kilruym slumped. "Of course. I understand."
Thrella looked thoughtful. "However. There are some junior operatives that have been undergoing intensive training recently." She looked sharply at the screen. "You are aware of...," she paused delicately, "...recent speculations as to the Human's motivation for desiring faster ships?"
"This channel is secure," he told her bluntly. "If it isn't, then neither is my office. Besides, I'm certain the Vulcans already know that the Humans are expecting war with the Romulans." Thrella flinched.
"That's ultra-top secret, Kil," she scolded him. "Even over a secure line-."
"As if the Humans on your end, and the Vulcans on my end, are not already aware of it? And also aware that we know about it?" Kilruym snorted. "Come now, Thrella. There is a time for doing things by the book, and a time for common sense."
"As long as the High Command doesn't catch you being too sensible," Thrella said primly. "But to continue what I was saying. We recently were assigned additional operatives due to... the situation you mentioned. None of them are seasoned at all. But they have gone through intensive training, and all of them have spent at least four cycles of this planet's moon phases interacting with Humans. That's over one hundred days of face to face experience. I could spare one of them, if you are interested."
"I'll take what I can get, with pitiful gratitude," he told her. "If you are sure they are ready?"
Her antennae twisted in amusement. "None of them are ready for intelligence work. They are all too green. But for something like a liason or a courier, any of them should be able to handle it. They are fluent in the Human language, familiar with basic manners and customs, and they are young and eager to please." She grinned. "They remind me a bit of us when we were assigned to the Reaver. Do you recall?"
Kilruym snorted, then broke into a chuckle. "Even after so many years, the recollection brings embarrassment."
She joined him in laughter. "But that galley deck was never cleaner, before nor since."
His laughter trailed off into a deep breath of relief. "Thank you, Thrella. I owe you another one." He looked at her for a moment. something in his eyes made her shift position uncomfortably. "Thrella. I... sometimes I wonder why..."
"I'm thinking that Larka would be a good choice," she interrupted him quickly. "She seems to be imbued with a boundless enthusiasm about everything and anything. She makes me quite tired sometimes just watching her."
He accepted the deflection gracefully. "I see what you are up to. You are trying to send me someone full of energy, hoping she will get me into the gym."
"It's worth a try," she jabbed back. "With that extra luggage you carry around, I'm astonished you can even move under Vulcan gravity."
"Come and visit sometime," he returned. "I'll challenge you to a footrace. We will see who's carrying extra luggage."
"Don't be so confident that I won't," Thrella told him playfully. "This Human unpredictability is wearing off on me."
"You think I'm afraid of you?" He mockingly pretended to be outraged. "Come and do your worst. In fact, bring your staff and prepare to submit to a thrashing."
"Kil, you always did say the sweetest things," she told him. "I'll send Larka on the first available transport. And now I have an urgent meeting to get to. Good luck." The screen went dark.
Kilruym sat back and let reaction flow through him. Emotions of relief blended with gratitude, and crashed into plaintive regret for lost opportunities.
#
Pojik shut down the monitors and left the testing booth with a feeling of foreboding. Most of the Human first shift had left hours ago, and even the Vulcans were thinning out. As he exited, more than a few of the Vulcan technicians shot him looks of bland disapproval. He fought hard to keep from flinching. As a V'Tosh Katur, disapproval from his colleagues was a foregone conclusion. Prior to this point he had felt justified in his choices. But today's episode was a different matter. His behavior today, allowing matters with that Andorian to escalate to the point of physical violence, was nothing less than disgraceful by anyone's standards.
To compound his humiliation, even the Humans obviously considered his behavior unacceptable. Several of his co-workers had quietly ventured unsolicited, albeit well-intentioned, advice on various methods for defusing such situations. He was seriously considering resignation. But where else could he go?
Surpek was waiting in the anteroom, to Pojik's surprise and gratitude. In his depression he had begun to convince himself that even his companions among the V'Tosh Katur would be revolted with him. But his old friend wore an expression of sympathy.
"Lenik and T'Hosh are waiting outside," Surpek told him. "The others have gone ahead along with the rest of the first shift. Our Human colleagues invited us to join them for the evening meal at a new establishment in the alien sector. It seems that the Betazoids have opened a tavern that also serves food."
"I find my appetite nonexistent," Pojik told him.
"I was informed most firmly that allowing you to escape would be detrimental to my continued safety and happiness," Surpek responded. "I request that you spare me the ordeal of explaining your absence to T'Hosh. She was pressing her lips together when she said it. You know as well as I what that signifies."
Pojik winced. "Understood. I will at least make a token appearance. Do you know if Captain Tucker was planning to attend?" The pair started for the exit.
"He has already departed for his home," Surpek said. "Several of the Humans remarked that he displayed evidence of unusual fatigue."
Pojik was too far gone in worrying about his own situation to spare much sympathy for his Human employer. "I sincerely hope that I will be able to summon the courage to face him tomorrow. The more I contemplate what happened, the greater my reluctance to return."
"Don't be stupid." The voice came unexpectedly from an opened doorway ahead of them. It was followed by the figure of Mei-Lin Stanczak, one of the team's hydraulic designers. She fell into step beside them and continued, "I wasn't trying to spy, but this hallway has weird acoustics. Anyway Pojik, quit kicking yourself. Nobody blames you for what happened. That guy had no business coming in here and starting trouble."
"Your reassurance is welcome," he told her gratefully. "However, the Andorian's belligerence in no way excuses my own failure."
Mei-Lin took a long step to get ahead, then turned and blocked the hallway in front of them. She raised both hands to form a barrier and gave both of them direct looks. "Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. That's not the point, Pojik. You need to understand something. You guys are with us now. You're on the team, and the team takes care of its own."
"Precisely. My action have not only disgraced myself," Pojik told her. "My behavior has reflected badly on my co-workers."
She snorted in disgust. "Bullshit. Joe and Billy were both ready to jump up and take that Andorian apart if Captain Tucker hadn't shown up when he did. I heard what he said to you, we all heard it. Those were what Joe calls 'fighting words'. And the boss didn't really chew you out for it, did he?"
"Chew...?"
Pojik's bewliderment must have been obvious, for she explained, "It means, he didn't scold you? Issue a verbal reprimand?"
"Not... really," he told her, while Surpek listened with deep interest. "He merely reassigned me to a different area."
"Trust me," Mei-Lin told him. "If Captain Tucker was upset with you, he would have let you know about it. In no uncertain terms. You heard what happened to the Andorian after you left, didn't you?"
Pojik shook his head in the Human fashion. Surpek volunteered, "I heard that Captain Tucker expressed disapproval."
Mei-Lin giggled. "Expressed disapproval? Only a Vulcan would put it that way. He went off like a torpedo on the guy. By the time he got done verbally eviscerating the fool we were almost starting to feel sorry for him. He told that Andorian that if he couldn't behave properly when he came in here, then he could just stay out. Among other things."
Pojik blinked. "I had no idea."
"I told you we take care of our own," she reminded them. "Captain Tucker takes care of his people too. Now let's get some chow. I'm starving."
#
Anna wrapped her arms around Kov from behind and nuzzled his shoulders. He stopped breathing again. "Anna," he managed to finally gasp, "if you do not desist we will never escape from the sanctuary."
"This is a problem?" she murmured, pressing her breasts against him and rubbing a thigh along his leg. Kov's knees started to buckle. He dropped the shirt and spun to seize her hips in his hands, picking her up to straddle his pelvis as he stood and capturing her mouth. She wrapped her legs around him as he strode over to the basin counter and sat her down on his hands, entering her in a powerful thrust...
Afterward, she clung to him tightly while Kov braced his fists on the counter, trying to suck in enough air to maintain consciousness. "You...," he gasped, "are," he paused to breathe heavily, "insatiable."
Anna chuckled deep in her throat and continued kissing his face and shoulders. "I'm sorry, honey. I-. No, I'm not going to lie about it. I'm not sorry," she admitted. "But I really can't help it you know. I just love you so much. I need you."
"I know." He swallowed. "The Human biochemical pair bonding. The 'honeymoon' effect. I remember. I do not know if I am going to survive the next Terran moon cycle. I fear 28 days like this may kill me."
"It isn't a firm number," Anna told him. "Sometimes less, sometimes even more. It varies." Kov made a small sound and she laughed, kissing him deeply. "Let's go home. That way we can at least have the comfort of our own bed."
"A superlative suggestion," Kov whispered, struggling erect and turning back toward his clothes. Anna slid down from the counter and grabbed his arm to help steady him. They got dressed eventually. Somehow. An attendent was waiting at the end of the hallway to escort them to the exit.
Anna paused at the entrance and put on an awkward expression. She told the doorway guards, "I'm really sorry about the way things worked out. I never wanted to hurt anyone. I also apologize for the damage I did."
"There can be no offense where none is taken," the guard on the left told her. The other guard maintained a dignified silence. Kov touched her arm and pulled her gently onward.
When they were beyond earshot he told her quietly, "The personnel of the sanctuary are accustomed to dealing with clients who are in the grip of plak tow. If anyone is to blame it is myself. Since I had already fallen into the fever it was only to have been expected that your self-control would have been compromised."
"Hush." She hugged his arm and kissed it. "It's my fault for trying to get cute by surprising you. Trip and T'Pol both warned me, but I wouldn't listen. I'm sorry." She looked up at him and his heart stopped beating for an instant. Again. "Will you ever forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive," he maintained. "If there were, I would forgive you. But there is not." He touched her cheek, feeling her joyous affection pour through the bond and ignite his blood again. Kov quickened his steps. It was imperative that they reach his aircar immediately.
#
"T'Hosh."
The voice was subdued, barely audible against the background noise of Human, Andorian, and Betazoid conversation. She looked up from her meal and her eys widened. "Captain Tolaris!" The other V'Tosh Katur at the table turned as one to stare.
"May I sit?" He seemed diffident. The formerly confident light in his eyes was extinguished, and his shoulders were bowed.
"Certainly," she told him, then looked around. Several tables had been pushed together in order to permit the factory staff to sit as a group. Consequently space was at a premium. Lenik rose to acquire an extra chair, while T'Hosh shifted so that Tolaris could assume her location. His former shipmates offered subdued but sincere welcome to their recent leader. "It is agreeable to see you recovered, Tolaris," T'Hosh told him. "Be welcome to our meal." The others muttered agreement.
"I am grateful. And pleased to have regained my health." Tolaris inclined his head. "It is agreeable to see all of you as well. I trust that circumstances have proceeded favorably?"
"Within the limits of reasonable expectation," Saldre told him. "I was pleasantly surprised to be offered a position as high as the one I obtained, considering my limited experience."
"It is a matter of perspective," T'Hosh told him. "The Humans are only getting started. You already possess as much experience as most of their senior staff. Especially considering their limited life spans."
"This introduces a subject," Tolaris said abruptly. "May I inquire as to the working conditions within the warp upgrade facility?"
T'Hosh regarded him curiously. "I am uncertain as to your purpose in asking. Please specify."
"I mean," Tolaris asked, "are the Humans difficult to work with? Do the other Vulcans cause issues based on one's past history with the V'Tosh Katur? I understand that there are some Andorians on staff as well. How is this dealt with?"
"Ah," T'Hosh was enlightened. "Overall, things have proceeded smoothly. To the best fo my knowledge and belief. I, at least, have not experienced any major difficulties with my colleagues." She looked at the others and raised an eyebrow in question.
"The work has gone remarkably well," Surpek said. "I have found Humans surprisingly reasonable beings. It is distressingly clear that the bulk of the propaganda diseminated by the V'Las administration was deliberately intended to mislead our people into avoiding contact with Humans for some reason."
"True," Pojik agreed. "They seem to be inherently quite tolerant. It is almost as if the IDIC principle is embedded within them as a basic reflex. The other Vulcans are not as open minded, I regret to say. But we have generally been able to come to workable understandings."
"The Andorians," T'Hosh picked up the thread, "are seldom in direct contact with Vulcans. I believe that Captain Tucker arranges matters this way deliberately. When it does happen, he is always careful to make certain that there are large numbers of Humans present."
"Prudent," Tolaris nodded thoughtfully. "I ask about this because I anticipate joining your staff in the near future."
"Really?" T'Hosh blinked. "You are not an engineer."
"This is true," Tolaris agreed. "However, my clan owns a significant percentage of the shipyards. I contacted them while I was undergoing treatment and requested their assistance in obtaining a position of some type. Since other members of the Vahklas crew have been accepted by the Humans, they are confident that I will be accepted as well. All that remains is to receive final approval from Captain Tucker."
"That should present no difficulty," Pojik said confidently. "Captain Tucker is a resourceful manager. A person of your qualifications, even a non-engineer, can surely be useful in some capacity."
TBC