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 . 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 5

After V'Rald's arrest and the effective disintegration of Terra Prime, the estimated threat level against T'Lissa had been reduced considerably. But T'Pau insisted on maintaining a token security guard over the galaxy's first Vulcan/Human hybrid regardless. Neither of her parents had offered the slightest objection to this. And of course, T'Para's house was always watched. The Eldest Mother of one of the most influential clans on Vulcan was not going to be left unattended. The thought was ludicrous.

All of which explains why the gate swung open to admit T'Pol and Trip before they even had time to reach for the buzzer. "Welcome krei, and Captain Tucker," the young man at the gate greeted them.

"Hi, Garop," Trip raised a casual hand. "How go the studies?"

"My instructors inform me that my progress is slightly above average," Garop told them. "I am honored that you saw fit to inquire. The Eldest awaits with krei Jul and krei T'Lissa in the main reception area." He closed and re-secured the gate.

"Did you tell them we were comin', hun?" Trip asked softly, as the proceeded along the walk.

"Not the specific time," T'Pol replied even more softly. "Only that it would be this evening."

They stepped through the door and instantly heard the patter of running feet. T'Lissa rounded the corner and headed for the pair at full speed ahead, squealing happily. "Sa-Da! Ma-Mehk!"

Trip grinned and dropped to one knee with his arms open. A happy torpedo launched herself into his chest and sent them both spinning. "Sa-Da! Ma-Mehk! Jul showed me how ta talk wit' my mout' shut 'n I heard you comin' 'n told Edest 'n she said I cud get the water 'n the lurfy vines got big 'n the cactususus got pretty flowers 'n Jul said she thinks I might make a good healer 'n cause I c'n hear stuff feel things 'n I like to look at stuff grow 'n Edest let me he'p her make tea!"

"Well," Trip laid on his back looking up with a smile. "You've been a busy little beaver. Help me up then, and we'll get some water while you tell us all about it." T'Pol stood watching with barely suppressed amusement as the tiny child grabbed her father's hand and tugged. Trip groaned theatrically and strained, letting T'Lissa drag him up by sheer brute force. She giggled and hugged his knees, then grabbed her mother by the other hand and started dragging them both along.

The elder ladies were ensconced in dignified comfort in the front room. The serving table held the the customary water and, to Trip's joy, several bottles of root beer. "Sit here," their tiny hostess directed. "I bring som'pun ta drink."

"You are proceeding too swiftly, T'Lissa," T'Para directed calmly. "First one must perform the greeting. Then the water is offered."

"Oh. Oky," the little one agreed. She got behind her parents and pushed a hand against each back. "Go say hi. Then I bring som'pun ta drink."

"I'll try," Trip said doubtfully. "If I remember how."

"Oh, Sa-da," T'Lissa sighed. "It's easy. Here," she took his forearm and pushed it up. "Now you say peeze 'n long life."

"Peace and long life," Trip repeated dutifully. Jul watched the Human-style interaction with a quizzical expression. Meanwhile T'Pol proceeded without comment to offer the fingertip greeting of kinship to both T'Para and her elder krei.

"Well done, Trip," T'Para said. Deadpan of course. "You have learned your lessons in basic Vulcan customs adequately."

"I owe it all to my ladies," he told her modestly. "Mind if I sit down? My throat is whimpering for that root beer." T'Para flicked a permissive finger and Trip sank to the couch with relief. T'Lissa grabbed his ankle and started heaving it up toward the top of the table.

"No, honey," Trip told her gently. "The Eldest doesn't want me getting my dirty shoes on her furniture."

"But yer feets hurts," the little one protested. She turned to T'Para and proclaimed, "Sa-da's feets hurts, Edest. It makes 'em feels better when dey's up."

"The table has withstood eight hundred and forty-one years of constant use, Trip," T'Para informed him. "It is constructed of solid stone. I doubt that the synthetic polymers in your foot gear will inflict any irreparable damage." T'Lissa happily resumed hefting her father's feet into position and brought him a bottle with frost on the outside. Trip grinned and shook his head. Then she carefully poured her mother a cup of sparkling water from the ceremonial urn and carried it to her in both hands, concentrating with her tongue in the corner of her mouth and taking tiny steps to keep from spilling it. T'Pol graciously accepted delivery and inclined her head. T'Lissa scrambled up and took position between her parents, beaming proudly. Trip fought hard not to embarrass her with a peck on top of the head, but it was a real struggle.

Jul began without preamble, "T'Lissa's telepathy is unusual, which is not surprising. Her ability to transmit thoughts is slightly below average for her age group. However her sensitivity to reception is significantly higher than average. In particular, her empathic abilities are developed to a point that I would not have expected to see for at least another five to seven years."

Trip leaned forward and put down his root beer, looking worried. "You're sayin' that she's vulnerable."

Jul said slowly. "It might be said that your acute Human night vision makes you vulnerable to bright light. It might also be said that the weight of dense Vulcan muscles make us vulnerable to drowning. I urge you to refrain from value judgments in these matters, at least for the present."

Trip sat back and rubbed his face, nodding. T'Pol put a hand on his shoulder. She asked, "Could this unusual sensitivity be due to her Human heritage?"

"Quite possibly," Jul told them. "I have considered your earlier statements regarding Human telepathy. The Eldest," she gestured at T'Para, who twitched a nostril in acknowledgment, "permitted me to use her personal database for further research. If one accepts the premise that the Human brain is limited in its ability to transmit, it seems logical to me that Humans may have become quite sensitive to such transmissions when they do occur. Indeed, it seems a necessary requirement in order for the system to work at all."

"I was often struck," T'Pol said pensively, "during my time on Enterprise by the ability of the Human crew to detect mood changes in their crewmates. Sometimes almost instantly."

"I told you, hun," Trip said tiredly. "We just get used to each other, that's all. When you work with someone long enough, even a tiny change in their body language or tone of voice can be enough to clue you in that something's wrong."

"Yes, so you explained," T'Pol acknowledged. "However, after you told me this I started making a particular effort to notice such details. I also started saving the standard security recordings for the public areas of the ship, particularly the mess hall. I wrote an algorithm that would analyze, detect and report any variation in the voice frequency and/or movement patterns of the subjects being recorded."

"You can't be serious," Trip's jaw was hanging open.

"Why not?" T'Pol gave him the eyebrow of benign amusement. "This was early in my time among Humans, and I was intensely curious."

"As am I," Jul said. She leaned forward with a gleam in her eye. "What were your results?"

T'Pol told her, "I was not able to isolate a causal relationship between variations in the subject's behavior patterns, and the ability of their companions to detect their altered state of mind. In fact, I recall at least two cases where the subject was challenged by his tablemates, and admitted to emotional distress, when my program reported that their voice/body patterns had not varied by more than 0.002% from standard."

"Circumstantial of course," Jul leaned back looking thoughtful. "But interesting none the less. It certainly provides justification for a more in-depth study. If Humans are routinely using their empathic abilities in their everyday interactions without being overtly aware of it, the ramifications are-."

"We are veering away from the purpose of this meeting," T'Para said, to Trip's visible relief. "I encourage you to pursue this line of inquiry at a later time. It merits investigation. Perhaps Trip could assist you in arranging access to some Human gathering points," she looked at him significantly, and he nodded. He knew a cue when he heard one.

"Sure, glad to. But let's get back to 'Lissa, ok?" He turned and stroked her hair gently.

"Whatsa matter, Sa-Da?" T'Lissa looked up with concern in her eyes. "How comes yous is worried? Evey-body ok? Right?"

He hugged her one armed with a grin. "Sure, everything's fine. I just worry because that's a Dad's job, to worry. It's what we do."

"That ain't loggikal," she scolded him. "Tell him Ma-Mehk," she turned to T'Pol for reinforcement.

"You will find as you mature, my daughter," T'Pol told her solemnly, "that your father sometimes behaves in a manner that does not always adhere to the strictest tenants of the most rigid forms of logic. This is inherent to his nature and it is merely something that we must accept."

T'Para coughed. Everyone in the room went rigid. "Yous oky, Edest?" T'Lissa innocently asked. T'Para glared at T'Pol before assuring the child that she was fine.

#

Minister Kuvak placed his hand against the I.D. plate at the front gate to his residence. A soundless light blinked and the gate swung open on well lubricated hinges, permitting him to enter the native stone hallway that penetrated the curtain wall of the ancient fortress which formed the heart of his ancestral manse. Trap doors overhead marked the point where the warriors of old had waited for invaders to pass beneath. Today, they concealed nothing more lethal than monitoring stations and Security Directorate operatives armed with regulation sidearms.

The inner gateway opened as he approached. His household steward, Tewar, stood with folded hands and impervious calm. In the 107 years that he had been in service to the family, Kuvak could not truly recall a single instance of the man ever losing his grip on the Disciplines, not to the slightest degree. Kuvak had attempted to present Tewar to Kov during his childhood as an ideal toward which he should strive. He often reflected on this during later years, while estranged from his son, and considered that perhaps he had imposed impossible expectations. Few Vulcans, even mature adults, were capable of approaching Tewar's ability. Asking a small child to make the attempt had probably been unreasonable. One of many regrets that he intended to make amends for.

The steward stepped forward one precise pace as Kuvak reached the end of the passage. "Your son and his betrothed have returned, Minister." He might have been reporting the readiness of the evening meal, despite knowing better than anyone else in the household how deeply troubled Kuvak had been over the years.

The minister stopped in his tracks, gladdened beyond his ability to completely contain. "Is all well with both of them?" Kuvak noted with chagrin the note of eagerness in his tone, and sternly promised himself an extra hour of meditation time for the next ten days. A planetary minister had to maintain an example. He could not afford even the relatively minor lapses that might pass as acceptable in someone who occupied a less visible position.

"So I am informed," Tewar told him. "Would you prefer to meet with your son? Or go directly to your office?"

"I will speak to my son," Kuvak said.

"As you wish, Minister." Krewar turned and led the way into the house. "Adjunct Kov is in the main reception area. I will prepare tea." The steward turned toward the kitchen and Kuvak headed for the reception area with accelerated steps. He caught himself again in chagrin and moderated his pace. He would have to defer his normal evening paperwork, additional meditation was becoming inescapable. It had certainly been a most trying year.

The elder Vulcan's bowstring-taut nerves began to loosen, just the tiniest bit, when he saw his offspring. Kov stood next to the sideboard arranging the water. He was neatly attired and meticulously groomed, and his expression was serene. The younger man turned at the sound of his father's footsteps and offered the taal, but Kuvak wasn't having such formality. Not today. He crossed his arms and spread his fingers, waiting. Kov obediently walked over and offered the greeting of kinship.

It was true. The touch confirmed what his eyes had dared him to hope for. Kov was at peace. Truly at peace within for the first time in many years. Anna had accomplished what the entire clan, and years of aimless wandering with the V'Tosh Katur could not achieve. She had not only saved his son's life but, apparently, his sanity as well. Then and there Kuvak privately vowed to himself that anything Anna ever requested would be granted to her - up to and including her own personal starcraft. Nothing could be adequate to repay the debt he owed to her.

"Welcome home, Father," Kov inclined his head and turned to pour the welcoming cup.

"To you the same, my son," Kuvak said, barely holding back the emotion. "Welcome indeed to you and your mate." He took the cup with shining eyes and sipped it with a warm feeling of homecoming filling him.

"Anna is resting," Kov told him. He hesitated. "She is well. However, the time..." Kuvak held up his hand.

"No more need be said. It can be exhausting for one of us. I do not care to imagine how taxing it must be for a Human. I will give instructions that she is in recuperation mode and should be served appropriately."

Kov's relief was visible, but his father did not hold it against him. They were in private and, to Kuvak's way of thinking, the cause was more than sufficient. Kov told him, "I consider it advisable that I remain available until Anna is able to care for herself independently. However, I am available for clerical or communication duties if you wish."

Kuvak considered briefly. "There is one matter. It would be helpful if you assumed direct authority over the placement and supervision of your former shipmates. Many of them have already found positions, including your entire engineering staff," he gave Kov an approving look. "however there are several remaining individuals that, for various reasons, present challenges."

"It would be most agreeable to undertake this matter," Kov told him. "There is one request I wish to make, father. Anna's brother has traveled from Earth, as you know. I ask your permission to invite him to invite him to transfer his quarters here for the remainder of his visit."

"Most definitely," Kuvak made a gesture with one finger for emphasis. "I would have undertaken this myself, however I was uncertain of his reaction with Anna being absent. Any member of your mate's family is always welcome here, you need not ask permission in the future."

"Anna will be pleased," Kov assured him. "I look forward to meeting him," he added with a barely detectable trace of nervousness.

"I spoke briefly with the young man upon my return," Kuvak told him. "It seems Captain Tucker has reported that you were called away on urgent unspecified business. He also told Anna's brother that, due to bureaucratic inefficiency, Anna was not informed of your location at first. Upon learning your whereabouts, she flew to join you. No further data was provided to him, however he told me that he accepts the need for confidentiality in dealing with high level government operations."

Kov stared. "That... but... that is blatantly deceptive."

"Not strictly," Kuvak noted. "I also spoke to Captain Tucker, who promised me that he merely said you have been called away, that Anna had not been informed of your location, that Lady T'Pol had used her influence to locate you, and that Anna had then left to join you. Anything else was a deduction on the part of Anna's brother that the Tucker's did not bother to correct."

Kov looked faintly distressed. "I must discuss this with Anna. I do not know if she will consent to deceiving him this way. In fact, I am responsible for causing significant distress to his sister. As her brother, he has the inherent right to be aware of this."

"Discuss it with her, of course," Kuvak told him, glancing up as Tewar walked in carrying the tea service. He gestured toward the sideboard and walked over to begin pouring. "However, I have found Anna to be an ultimately pragmatic young woman. I believe she will perceive no logic in disturbing the status quo."

Tewar stood by the sideboard with his hands folded. Kuvak looked at him. "What is it, Tewar?"

"As per your prior instructions," his steward reported, "I informed the clan elders upon Adjunct Kov's return. The Eldest Mother has returned a message directing you to arrange a meeting between herself and Lady Anna to discuss wedding arrangements."

Both men winced.

#

Tolaris sat stiffly and faced his clan elder across the table. "I was not aware that Captain Tucker had married Lady T'Pol. It may be that this will prevent my placement with the Human project."

Jorin's brows drew together. "Explain."

Tolaris sat, if possible, even more stiffly erect. A tersely as possible, he offered a summary description of the encounter between Vahklas and Enterprise, as well as an even more abbreviated summation of his aborted courting of T'Pol. When he finished, Jorin sat back and closed his eyes in pained silence.

After a nervous moment, Tolaris offered, "I acknowledge that my behavior was less than exemplary."

Jorin opened his eyes and regarded his kinsman bleakly. "You were a member of the V'Tosh Katur. To say that your behavior was less than exemplary is ludicrously redundant. This, however, is unconscionable. From your description, it seems probable that you transferred your illness to then-Commander T'Pol."

Tolaris' jaw muscles bunched. "I have admitted that my behavior was wrong. I believe that my judgment, as well as my self-control, were compromised by the neurological damage from my illness."

"Perhaps." Jorin eyed him with excruciating disfavor. "During my abbreviated encounter with Captain Tucker I was favorably impressed with his dedication to the principles of order and IDIC. I will forward your request to the office of Minister Kuvak with a request for Adjunct Kov's attention. Beyond that point, the matter will be your own responsibility."

Tolaris stood and gave a slight bow. Jorin flicked his fingers in dismissal, and the younger man turned to leave without another word. Once in the corridor, he silently began reciting the Disciplines to himself. It felt unnatural, like trying to put on a suit of clothing that no longer fit. But he had no other option now. Hopefully he could maintain the facade until nightfall, when he could venture into the desert for a brief period of privacy and relief. Perhaps even some hunting?

When Tolaris let himself into his tiny bachelor compartment, the message indicator on his comm unit was lit. He seated himself and checked the incoming list. A smile softened his face at the sight of three former shipmates who requested he contact them to arrange visitation. It was warming to know that one still had friends, no matter what else happened.

The last name on the list gave him thoughtful pause. He decided to call it first. His kinsman's face filled the screen almost immediately. "Greetings, krei Tolaris," Koss told him calmly. "I trust that your discussion with Elder Jorin was productive?"

Tolaris sat back and regarded Koss carefully. "As productive as could be anticipated, given the circumstances," he said. "As you warned me, he did not respond well to the news."

Koss displayed no visible reaction. "Was he still willing to forward your application? That is the only important matter."

"Yes," Tolaris said slowly. "I should be speaking with Kov tomorrow."

"Satisfactory," Koss told him. "Advise me if further assistance is required. I am here to serve."

#

Koss deactivated his comm and stood up. One more small task to complete, and he could sit back and let events take their inevitable course.

His apartment was located with easy strolling distance of the central city shops and cafes. Koss kept the hood of his light robe pulled well forward, both for shade and to avoid attention. Logically, there would be no harm if someone did recognize him. After all, it was not unheard of for him to occasionally walk into the city for small shopping errands. But he greatly preferred to avoid conversation on this day of all days.

The tea shop was tiny. It occupied the corner space of an extremely old plaza in the oldest part of town. Only a faded symbol on the door identified it. The interior was dimly lit, as it had always been on his infrequent visits. Trough shaped steps led down to the stone floor which was inlaid with badly worn mosaics, blurred by the feet of centuries. The high arched ceiling overhead was carefully fitted together from cut stone reinforced with titanium struts a millennium old. The walls however, bore hand painted murals that were as blazingly bright as if they had been painted that very morning. The largest painting, which covered the wall behind the service counter, displayed a broad desert scene of two wild sehlat's lock in death battle. Overhead, etched in silhouette against the setting sun, a bird of prey circled the battling carnivores.

The shop held several customers, as usual. Also as usual, most of them were outworlders. He walked up to the service desk without lowering his hood. The Vulcan woman behind the counter meet his eyes directly, then narrowed her gaze. Koss said flatly. "Tea... chamomile." It was a recent Terran import that many young Vulcans were finding agreeable.

She turned and entered the kitchen. Three seconds later a large man emerged, wearing a tight skullcap pulled low over his forehead. He poured the tea, never taking his eyes off Koss. "Do you want anything with that?"

Koss considered quickly. From the report, it would be best not to push to hard. "No. That will suffice." He collected the cup and chose a seat neat the back wall. A sip of the beverage forced him to call up all his self-control. The Human fluid was repulsive. How she could possibly drink this was incomprehensible to him. But of course, she did many things that were incomprehensible. He forced himself to remain seated a normal amount of time and finish the cup. Waste was illogical. On the way out he deposited his cup in the disposal chute. At no time did he look again toward the counter.

Upon returning to his apartment Koss donned his meditation robes and settled down for the evening. As he spent time in soothing reflection of the day's accomplishments, and since he was completely alone, just this once... he permitted himself a triumphant smile.

TBC