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.

A/N: This story make frequent reference to events and/or information that was introduced earlier in the series. I try to make things as self-explanatory as possible. But some of this might still be puzzling if you haven't read the previous stories.

Thanks to everyone for the reviews. They provide more help than you might realize when it comes to motivation. I hope this chapter addresses some of the concerns that people brought up. It might also provoke some controversy. We'll see.

Chapter 6

"Oh my... right there. Perfect..."

"Of course. When have I settled for less then perfection in caring for your needs?" She spread her fingers and pressed deeply into the third dorsal node on the left lateral, while simultaneously using her thumb to apply a sequence of stimulations to the spinal branching along the right distribution network. He shuddered and made a tiny sound. Her nostrils flared at the sudden increase in pheromones. They would certainly be mating again tonight. Excellent. Reinforcing the Human bio-chemical bond was just as important as sealing the Vulcan telepathic connection.

He rolled over on the cushions and reached up to stroke her cheek. "You are perfection incarnate, my love," he said softly. Her nerves hyper-activated when she realized through their connection that he meant it. He wasn't engaging in typical Human hyperbole. Her betrothed was so besotted that he was incapable of perceiving her flaws. Illogically, instead of being disappointed at his lack of self-discipline she found herself experiencing a growing warmth in her abdomen. The appropriate Human response to such a statement, she reflected, would be a kiss.

The kiss became extended and was on the verge of advancing to more in-depth explorations when the comm unit sounded. Malcolm stopped and closed his eyes. "No. Not again. That's the eleventh time this week that we've been interrupted."

"Did you not explain to me," T'Jala remarked, standing up, "that the First Officer is never off-duty?" She offered him her hand, which he accepted, and pulled him easily from the floor. His reply was inarticulate and guttural.

Malcolm poked the comm button with an impatient thumb and snapped, "Reed here. Report."

"Commander. This is Consultant Tizok. You suggested that I contact you at the end of my duty shift regarding my request."

Malcolm's head suddenly sagged forward. "I forgot to mention it to her. I apologize Tizok, but she's right here. Let me do it now." He straightened up and turned to face T'Jala, who tightened her lips at the voice coming from the comm. "I'm sorry. Tizok asked me about arranging a meeting with you to discuss the ins and outs of living among Humans. Apparently my flea brain just couldn't hold onto the information."

"Is it your wish," she spoke carefully, "that I meet with this man?"

Malcolm opened his mouth and froze, looking at her. He closed his mouth and regarded her carefully. "What am I missing here?"

T'Jala carefully stated, "If. It. Is. Your. Wish. That. I. Meet. With. This. Man. I. Will. Do. So."

Malcolm drew back and watched her for a time. "Is there some reason that you wouldn't want to meet with him?"

T'Jala opened her mouth and hesitated. Before she could phrase an appropriate reply, the comm unit sounded again.

"Perhaps I can clarify, Commander. I was formerly of the V'Tosh Katur. Conversation with members of the engineering crew has provided information regarding Crewman T'Jala's family affiliation. For one of her elevated social status to voluntarily associate with an outcast such as myself might well result in negative consequences."

"That..." Malcolm looked from the comm to T'Jala and back again. "That makes no sense. T'Pol associated with the crew of Vahklas when we met your ship the first time. And Kov is a highly placed member of your government now."

"T'Pol was performing her duty in compliance with the orders of her commanding officer, "T'Jala explained pointedly. "She could not be held responsible for the decisions of her captain. And Kov's behavior was already a source of difficulty. By returning home and accepting a position of responsibility, he is actually improving his father's reputation."

"Ah." Enlightenment suddenly appeared on Malcolm's face, to her relief. "You want me to order you to meet with him, so you can have a workable excuse in case anyone back home finds out about it."

She drew her eyebrows together. "That is not the way I would have phrased it. But, essentially, yes."

"All right then." He considered. "Crewman T'Jala, as First Officer I believe it would be in the best interest of the crew and the mission if you were willing to provide Tizok with training on how to interact with Humans more efficiently."

She inclined her head. "As you wish, Commander Reed." She addressed the comm. "Consultant Tizok. My duty shift is from 08:00 to 20:00. You may contact me in the mess hall at any time during that period to arrange a meeting schedule."

"Acknowledged, Crewman T'Jala. I will attempt to coordinate with you tomorrow."

The comm clicked off. "Now that's out of the way," Malcolm said briskly, "Where were we?" He walked over and brushed her hair back, trailing fingers down the side of her neck and provoking a shiver. He replaced the fingers with his lips and the shiver became a clutch of his shoulders.

"You are," she panted, "remarkably tolerant, Malcolm. Considering that w-." He moved his mouth to the base of her neck and started nibbling. Her knees buckled. Malcolm caught her and started walking with her toward the bunk. "Con- considering that we are newly be- bet- betrothed," she finally managed.

"I have no idea what you mean," Malcolm said vaguely. He slipped his hands beneath her upper undergarment and slid it up and off. T'Jala willingly reclined on the bunk and cradled his head as he devoured her breasts. He finished removing her underwear as she pulled down the last of his clothing and dragged him to the bunk on top of her.

She broke the kiss to say, "I mean," they joined lips again, "that most newly betrothed Vulcans would not be so casual about permitting their t'hy'la to spend time alone with some-," another kiss ensued, accompanied by eager manipulations, "someone of the opposite gender."

Malcolm removed his mouth from her belly long enough to say, "I trust you. Besides, you're going to be meeting in public aren't you? In the mess hall after your shift maybe?" He went back to work.

"If... if that is what you wiiiIIIIIIiiiisssshhhh." Her back arched uncontrollably.

"Yes." He raised his face and told her. "Public meetings are fine. Private, not so fine. Besides, I'm First Officer. I control every gun on the ship."

She grabbed his shoulders, dragging him back up to capture his mouth with her own again.

#

"Trip." T'Para gave him The Look. He clamped his mouth shut. "Further debate would be counter-productive. Return to your house and obtain the necessary toiletries and clothing. The three of you will stay here tonight while installation of the gravity neutralizers is completed. Proceed." He quirked a half-smile, inclined his head, and headed for the door.

T'Para turned and called, "T'Lissa, you may retrieve the trowel and complete the task of preparing the soil in the seed bed as I instructed. Remember to take care that the potting soil does not escape from the box this time."

"Oky, Edest!" A blurred streak whooshed past, leaving unsettled air currents behind. T'Para stood silently for a few seconds while the dust settled. Then she turned and proceeded toward the kitchen to rejoin the other adults. T'Pol was leaning over her cup of tea, aimlessly running her finger back and forth across the cup's engraving. T'Para paused in the doorway to listen.

"... your premise is flawed."

"How so?" Jul asked calmly

T'Pol looked at her. "Trip's difficulty has nothing to do with understanding, nor logic. Can one reason the blood fever into submission?"

"Ah." Jul's face changed very slightly. "He is undergoing an instinctive response to a challenge from another male."

"Only in part," T'Pol said. Her distress was plain to see. "If I had known at the time of my first wedding what was truly in Trip's mind and heart, I would have called the challenge and fought Koss myself."

"Refrain from such outbursts," T'Para snapped, walking in and joining them at the table. "Choosing the kalifee would have been bad enough. No woman of our clan has sunk to such barbarism in more than 500 years. But to do it and then take up weapons with your own hand? The disgrace would have been irredeemable."

"The disgrace that I bear now is irredeemable." T'Pol said hollowly. Jul and T'Para shared a look. "If I thought that it would grant him peace, I would kill Koss and carry his heart to Trip on my knees."

"Child." T'Pol turned and the Eldest looked at her firmly. "You will reserve an extra three hours tonight for deep meditation. Plainly the stress of this situation is destabilizing your control again. Remember what I taught you. The feedback of your bond must not be permitted to escalate."

T'Pol stiffened, then slumped. "Acknowledged, Eldest."

Jul inclined her head. "If the issue persists, perhaps a a meld between the two of you might-"

"No." T'Pol interrupted her sharply. She blinked and came to herself, swallowed, then added, "I do not believe that a meld will be required."

Her krei gave her a narrow look. "As you wish." T'Para said nothing in words, but her eyes compensated for it. T'Pol looked down.

"I confess," Jul said slowly, "that I am having difficulty grasping the precise nature of your adun's problem. Certainly, the overt hostility exhibited by Clan Tren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac is distressing..."

"Irrelevant." T'Pol snapped impatiently. She caught herself. "I ask pardon. The Eldest is correct. I require additional meditation."

"Perhaps you should avail yourself of the opportunity now," Jul suggested. "The Eldest and I can keep watch over T'Lissa."

"A most logical suggestion," T'Pol said gratefully. She headed for the back of the house looking exhausted. The remaining pair sat sipping tea for a few moments in companionable silence.

"Eldest, is it feasible that you might assist me in understanding this situation?" Jul sat her cup down primly and folded her hands, waiting.

T'Para held her cup in both hands and looked out the window at the little one, still digging industriously. Dust and the occasional dirt chunk rose up in a steady fog over the seedbed. The entire arrangement would have to be re-done. But it gave the child a sense of accomplishment, and the dirt actually did need to be worked into a looser mix.

"I have spent a substantial amount of time speaking with that young pair," T'Para finally said. "In my opinion, the primary source of the distress Trip feels lies in his conviction that he failed to assert himself appropriately in the earlier portion of their relationship, with particular emphasis on the period immediately prior to T'Pol's wedding to Koss. His secondary difficulty lies with his suspicion, despite all her protestations to the contrary, that T'Pol is only with him due to a series of mischance events and because she had no other logical option."

Jul closed her eyes in concentration. "I would not presume to attempt emotive therapy on a Human. However the secondary difficulty should have been dealt with by the formation of the mate bond. Or is it too weak for him to detect her sincerity?" she asked.

"That is part of the problem," T'Para told her. She suddenly felt tireder than even her years could account for. "Their bond was atypical from the beginning. At the time of her wedding to Koss, the mate bond was still so weak that T'Pol herself was not aware of it. Trip was oblivious to any telepathic connection between them. It is only now, after living together as a family for more than two years, that the telepathic centers in Trip's brain have strengthened to the point of being able to dependably maintain contact."

Jul stirred and looked interested. "His telepathic structures are growing?"

"No." T'Para took a sip. "Apparently the Human brain is a most adaptable organ. Rather than increasing the telepathic structures themselves, the healers maintain that Trip's central nervous system is adding multiple cross-connections between the telepathic portions of his brain and adjacent structures. When accessing the bond, his brain activates the additional cross-connections to supplement the rudimentary telepathy that he would ordinarily be capable of."

Jul looked fascinated. "Most intriguing. If T'Lissa has inherited this ability, it will make a significant difference in her development. I must consult with her pediatrician. It might explain her precocious empathy."

"That can easily be arranged. Healer Kerlek of the Science Directorate is her designated pediatrician, in conjunction with the Denobulan Phlox of the Interspecies Medical Exchange." T'Para stood up and walked over to the window. The subject of their conversation had paused in her digging to examine something engrossing that she had unearthed.

"In any case," Jul mused, "if their bond has strengthened to the point-"

"Forgive me," T'Para turned and raised a hand. "I would not have you misapprehend. The distress that Trip feels is based on his memories of past events, not on his evaluation of T'Pol's current motives."

Jul blinked. "If the memories were suppressed...," she hinted. T'Para flicked a finger in dismissal.

"For Humans this is not an option. I have already offered the suggestion. The structural subdivisions of the Human brain prevent any such attempt from succeeding," the Eldest explained. "Moreover, Trip tells me that it would violate some aspect of Human ethical standards. Although his attempt to explain this was not fully clear."

Jul reached for the teapot and refilled her cup. "How do Humans deal with such situations among themselves?"

"It would never happen," T'Para walked over to the cabinet and took down a covered dish of thin bread. She placed it on the table and began extracting assorted vegetables from her stasis unit. "The situation is unique, and not only because of the mate bond."

"I am aware," Jul was speaking with careful precision, "of the basic facts regarding the allegations made by Charles at the last Gathering. Since V'Rald was eventually arrested, and Charles was awarded compensatory damages, logic leads me to conclude that there was substance to his accusation. If this is true, I am puzzled as to why T'Pol married Koss in the first place."

T'Para stood perfectly still for a time. Finally she turned and resumed her seat, looking at Jul with a granite expression.

"T'Les knew when she was dismissed from her position that her connection to the Syrannites had been discovered, or at minimum was suspected. Given the standard operational methods of the V'Las administration, suspicion alone was enough to ensure her eventual elimination. She determined that escape to the Forge was her only logical option." Jul gestured understanding.

T'Para continued, "T'Les also knew that the High Command was less than pleased with T'Pol's conduct while assigned to the Human ship. She concluded that if she simply left to join the rest of the Syrannites, the wrath of the high Command would fall on her daughter. Therefore, she contacted Clan Tren'nik'lok'hlt'li'jan'mrifloj'hed'fr'dac in an attempt to repair the damage caused by T'Pol's refusal to return. When her daughter came home, T'Les intended to ensure that she was married to the nephew of an influential Sub-Minister. If the Syrranites failed to recover the Kirshara, V'Rald would still be impelled to protect T'Pol as a member of his family."

"Flawlessly logical," Jul narrowed her eyes. "T'Les must have found it quite disagreeable when T'Pol came home accompanied by a Human paramour."

"Yes," T'Para said flatly. "It disturbs me that the child did not confide in me. I am led to conclude that T'Les suspected me of possible collusion with V'Las."

"Highly stressful situations are well known to distort one's judgment," Jul said blandly.

T'Para gave her a glance before returning to the sink to peel vegetables. "Indisputably."

"I can readily perceive how Charles was placed in an untenable position," Jul mused. "If he declared himself, he would be placing T'Pol in the position of choosing between him and her mother. As well as causing her to provoke the animosity of a highly placed government official against herself." Jul looked up at T'Para. "There is an aspect of this that I am not perceiving. When viewed objectively, Charles was presented with only one honorable path. Nor did T'Pol seem to have any logical alternative but to accept her mother's wishes."

"The difficulty is due to the difference between our species," T'Para raked the chopped fo'daer root into a bowl and reached for a bundle of ghouri leaves. "By Trip's standards, if T'Pol had truly cared for him she would chosen Trip over all others, including her mother. Of course, if she had done so T'Les would have then fallen under Trip's protection. Since she did not do so, from Trips perception, T'Pol abandoned him for another man." Jul straightened and seem about to say something, but T'Para continued to talk.

"Because they had previously engaged in copulation prior to this point, Trip instinctively regarded T'Pol's behavior as betrayal. By his standards, his proper course of action should have been to turn away from her permanently and seek an alternate mate."

Jul lowered her hand with a look of growing distress on her face. "I begin to understand. Because of the bond he was unable to disengage from her. And..."

T'Para finished. "Since his mate had betrayed him by choosing another man, and the matebond ensured that he continued to care for her, Human instinct and tradition left him no choice but to define himself as weak. Just as among our people, for Human males to demonstrate weakness in any form is to invite attack. It is not logical under current conditions," the Eldest explained. "But instinctive responses are indifferent to modern customs."

The healer nodded sadly. "Thus, when she turned to him only after Koss released her-"

"No, she did not."

"What?" Jul was nonplussed. "But they were bonded."

"T'Pol was still unaware of the bond at the time of her divorce," T'Para said darkly. "This is the aspect that I believe troubles them both to the greatest degree. Shortly after her marriage to Koss, Trip made a remark to T'Pol indicating that he did not believe that they could have been successful as a mated pair. The statement was a deliberate falsehood, made with the intent of assisting T'Pol in casting out distress at the situation."

"Massively illogical," Jul said, staring.

"Yes, it was. It was also typical of Trip," T'Para said. "T'Pol, not perceiving his intent, took the statement at face value. Rather than reduce her distress, his statement compounded it significantly. She had been secretly planning to divorce Koss at the first reasonable opportunity and attempt to rebuild a relationship with Trip. After his statement, she abandoned this thought and resigned herself to a life with Koss. After Koss released her, over her protest, Trip attempted to re-establish rapport with her. She refused him."

Jul openly emitted a sound that could only be called a faint groan and covered her eyes. "Their history together begins to resemble a badly-written pre-Reformation drama."

"There is yet more," T'Para told her.

"How could there be?" Jul demanded in disbelief. "Were they not drawn back together by their child?"

"No," T'Para paused in her food preparation and looked out the window. T'Lissa was back to digging, but this time she had climbed into the box and was stirring the dirt surrounding her. The child was coated with filth from hair to feet.

"No," she repeated, looking at Jul. "Trip finally was unable to tolerate the situation and transferred to another ship. Being a healer, I invite you to deduce the result."

"Their bond was in turmoil," Jul said thoughtfully. "Then they were abruptly separated. I would expect an ongoing pattern of mutual distress to ensue."

"Correct," T'Para said. "Trip's brain had finally developed sufficient cross-linkages to make telepathic communication possible. During their separation both of them experienced a nearly constant barrage of shared dreams. Meanwhile, T'Pol found it impossible to meditate without making involuntary contact with her mate. She eventually came to terms with what was happening. Trip transferred back to Enterprise and the two of them attempted to... begin anew. Then T'Lissa appeared and they began family life together."

"I speculate that during none of this were they able to spend a significant time alone together, coming to terms with each other and the situation." Jul did not lower her hands from her eyes.

"Your speculation is correct." T'Para put on a pot to boil. "Not until I ordered them to sojurn here for an extended period of counseling. It became necessary after Trip was arrested."

Jul dropped her hands and sat upright in her chair. "Why was he arrested?"

T'Para began chopping carrots. "He was driven to violent madness due to telepathic feedback caused by T'Pol's brain damage."

"Brain damage?"

#

Eric Hess got out of the aircar and felt his jaw drop open. "Holy... crap," he whispered. "Sis never told me she'd married into royalty."

The driver finished unloading his luggage and came around to join Eric at the edge of the parapet. Behind them the automatic lift pulled the aircar down into the garage for maintenance and preparation. The ancestral home of his sister's in-laws was a five hectare walled compound with a main house the size of a castle, a separated garage, several storage buildings, and what looked like at least two entrances to subsurface areas. All of it built from native stone.

"Mr. Hess." He turned, startled out of his startlement. The driver stood patiently holding his suitcase and duffle with no sign of strain. "If you will follow me?" Eric nodded and the driver took off with Eric in hot pursuit. He feared that getting lost in this place would mean certain death from starvation.

A sliding door at the end of the roof opened into, of all things, a turbolift. "Now this is handy," Eric noted. "Quite logical in a place this size, too."

"Indeed," was the driver's only comment. Eric watched a lighted indicator panel flash a series of vertical bars, then switch over to horizontal bars, then back to vertical again. Finally an almost inaudible hum stopped and the door slid open to reveal a wide hallway festooned with antiques. One of the antiques stepped forward and and said, "Greetings, Mr. Hess. I am Krewar, the House Steward. Follow me to you quarters." The walking fossil turned and headed out, not bothering to look back.

"Wow." Eric walked into his room and turned in a slow circle.

"Is there some difficulty?" Krewar asked, pointing the driver toward the wardrobe, which looked to Eric like a medium sized cargo flat could be rolled inside without scraping the doors.

"No. No difficulty," Eric said quickly. "It's just... huge." He leaned his neck back and looked up at the ceiling, wondering about weather patterns.

"If you prefer smaller chambers, they can be provided," Krewar told him, shooing the driver out the door. Eric turned and raised a hand as the guy left, which was not acknowledged. He didn't expect it to be.

"This is fine, really," Eric assured him. "I'm just not used to living this way. I travel from job site to job site, and most of the time I sleep in hotels where I'm lucky if I don't have to share a shower. This is..." He paused to look at the bed, about half the size of an Olympic swimming pool. "More than I anticipated."

"The architecture of this abode pre-dates the Reformation of Surak," Krewar told him. "Current preferences in living arrangements are less ostentatious. In any case you will not be required to share sanitary facilities. This way."

Eric ambled after him with a bemused feeling of being ready for anything. Considering the rest of the place, he wasn't surprised to find a bathroom that even Caligula might have thought was a bit overdone. "Very nice," he managed to get out.

Krewar told him, "Your sister and her adun are available if you desire to meet with them. However, if you prefer to rest and prepare yourself prior to the evening meal, that will be acceptable."

"Oh no, she's not getting away again," Eric grinned, then remembered himself and covered his teeth back up. "I've waited too long to see that woman and meet this poor guy she hogtied. Where can I find them?"

"From your reply, I deduce that you wish to meet with them immediately?" Krewar said uncertainly. Eric nodded, and he continued, "Follow me then."

Down the hallway, around the corner, down a set of stone stairs, along another hallway and into a second turbolift. Out of the turbolift and up a short flight of more modern steps to an exterior walkway. Back inside through an arboretum, around the edge of a truly gargantuan rotunda, another hallway, down yet another set of stone steps, and along an endless hallway that disappeared into the gray distance. Before Eric's feet could snap off at the ankle Krewar abruptly stopped, opened a door, and disappeared.

Eric ducked through after him only to discover that it led into another hallway. He felt like bursting into tears.

The final hallway dumped them out into a drawing room. Or maybe a reception area. His quarry was waiting and, joy of joys, drinks were available.

"There he is!" Anna lunged up and crossed the room in a couple of bounds, grabbing him in a bear hug. Eric was barely breathing anyway, so it really didn't matter. He tried his best to give as good as he got, but concluded that with Anna living on Vulcan it might not be safe to continue teasing her at his usual rate. Her arms felt like steel cables.

They pulled apart and Eric suddenly felt concern. "What's wrong, Anny? You look like crap. Sit down before you fall down."

"Now don't you start," she protested but let him guide her back to her lounge. "It's bad enough with Kov hovering over me." She looked up at the man who stood stiffly watchful beside the chair and smiled dreamily. "Speaking of which, this is him. Kov, this is Eric."

He sighed and forced his fingers into the unnatural contortion again. "Peace and long life, Kov, son of Kuvak," Eric recited carefully. "It is an honor to meet my sister's betrothed."

Kov returned the gesture. He said, "Live long and prosper Eric Hess, brother to my t'hy'la." Then he stuck out his hand. "I regret the delay and inconvenience that you endured."

Eric relaxed and shook. "It's ok, don't worry about it. I understand about things coming up unexpectedly." Anna shoved a mug into his hand and he grinned. "Thanks. I always suspected you might turn out to be useful someday." Eric took a long pull of icewater and sighed in relief. "Oh man. That tastes good."

"Sit. Comfort yourself," Kov urged. Eric grinned and complied. Unlike most of the furnishings in the vast pile, the couch and chairs in this room were thoroughly modern, powered, and fully adjustable. He leaned back and raised the footrest feeling relieved.

"It's good you're here, brother dearest," Anna sighed, propping against Kov as he settled in next to her. "I have to meet tomorrow with the head granny of Kov's clan to plan our wedding, and I need moral support."

"Uh, hold on a minute there," Eric protested. "I don't know anything about planning a wedding. I can't even plan a dinner party. You remember what happened when I got stuck with setting up Dad's birthday party eight years ago."

Anna waved her hand dismissively. "I don't mean you have to help plan it. I just need backup."

Kov looked troubled. "Anna, I will be here. Not that I have any objection to Eric's presence," he quickly added.

"Honey," Anna raised up and planted a quick kiss on his lips. "If you weren't going to be here, I wouldn't be either. But Eric will understand what I'm going through better than anyone else. He'll also be better prepared to grab me in time to keep me from saying or doing something that can't be fixed."

Eric gave her a direct look. "What are you not telling me, Sis?"

"The old bat hates me, that's what," Anna grumbled. "She sneers at Humans, and she doesn't think I'm good enough to marry into her precious clan."

"Really," Eric said sardonically. "Are you sure that you aren't going overboard, sis?"

"My father assures me," Kov interjected, "that the Eldest was deliberately provocative at your first meeting in order to test your self-discipline."

"She provoked me all right," Anna smoldered. "I'd still like to knock her back on her sagging, wrinkled ass." Kov flinched and paled.

"Take is easy, Anny," Eric chuckled. "That temper of yours isn't going to solve this one. You probably just got off on the wrong foot. It isn't like she has the power to stop you."

"Actually, she does..." Kov looked intensely uncomfortable. "Unless I chose to break connections with my family again." Eric winced.

"You see?" Anna looked grim. "I have to work out some kind of truce with the old hag, when what I really want to do is knock her upside the head with something. But I refuse to be the cause of friction between Kov and his family. So when she comes over for dinner tomorrow evening I need to stay calm, cool, and collected. Will you help me out, Eric? Run interference if I need it and so forth?"

"Sure thing, sis," Eric said airily and took another sip of water. "It's just dinner with an old lady. How tough can it be?"

Kov looked dubious. Before he could offer a comment, Krewar reappeared and announced, "There is a comm for Adjunct Kov." His face did not change in the slightest degree, yet he still managed to project an impression of distaste. "It is one of your former shipmates. Tolaris, I believe."

"I will accept the call here," Kov told him.

Krewar raised two fingers to signal assent and proceeded to the southern wall. He manipulated a nondescript looking carving and a panel slid aside to reveal a small alcove equipped with a full comm and computer terminal. A few flashing movements of his fingers, to quick for Eric to follow, and he turned to report, "The communication awaits your convenience, Adjunct."

As Kov walked over to the terminal Anna explained, "Kov and his dad are helping the Vahklas crew find jobs. They'd have a terrible time fitting back in without someone pulling for them."

"That's decent of them," Eric approved. "It's good to stick by your friends. You never know when you might be the one needing a favor."

#

Two days later, Anna walked into the main testing lab at the warp upgrade project to find her boss hunched over a console. The biggest isolation chamber was occupied by a radiant generator that bristled with projectors of all descriptions.

"Increase power output 0.5%," Trip ordered tensely. Force field emitters surrounded the generator. At Trip's order the emitters on every side started humming. Several of them began to glow from overheated connections.

"Where are we, Steve?" Trip wanted to know. The sandy haired Human tech quickly checked his instruments.

"So far, no leakage at all." He grinned. "The shields are eating this level of output for breakfast."

"Don't get cocky," Trip warned. "This is nothing compared to what it looks like when warp containment really starts to fail. We're only taking baby steps here."

"That is factually innaccurate," one of the Vulcan women spoke up. "The equipment in use may be less sophisticated than that of some races, but the basic theories and procedures being applied toward these shields are identical to the ones used on our own warships. There is nothing superficial or primitive about this configuration."

"Thanks, T'Hosh," Anna offered with a smile. "We worked hard to get where we are. It's nice to get a compliment."

"She's right," an Andorian male agreed, making a minor adjustment to his board. "Your people have done well to come so far so fast. What you lack in technical knowledge you make up in creative adaptability. It won't take you long to improve on this."

Trip chuckled. "You two buckin' for a raise?" The Andorian twisted his antennae in amusement, while the Vulcan looked uncertain. "How about we knock off for lunch early, instead. I need to catch up with Anna. Meet back here at 13:00."

The work crew trickled ou of the lab and Trip walked over to greet Anna. "Welcome back, commander," he grinned. "I hope you enjoyed your little vacation, because the rest of us have been saving up a pile of extras for you."

Anna snorted. "I'm still on medical leave, Captain Tucker, sir. As you well know. But I brought you a present. Or actually, Kov brought you a present and I came along to see how badly things are getting tangled up without me here to keep watch over the place."

The pair of them started walking toward the lab exit that led onto the main factory floor. "Oh goody," Trip rubbed his hands together. "What is it? Chocolate? Tell me it's chocolate."

"Right. Like the son of a Council Minister is gonna be walking around with a box full of contraband under his arm." Anna punched his shoulder gently. "It's a who. Another one of Kov's old buddies needs a job. I already approved it, by the way." She keyed the inner door open. "The guy is qualified in warp theory, although he doesn't have a lot of hands-on experience in an engine room."

"Well, we need theorists too," Trip admitted. "Reverse engineering this Andorian tech to fit our junk isn't exactly elementary school math. We still haven't ironed out that discrepancy with the nacelle balancing."

"Still?" Anna muttered a mild curse under her breath. "I was hoping one of those shining geniuses back on Earth would work that out for us."

"The ones that designed the original warp six plans, you mean?" Trip said innocently. Anna winced and raised a defensive hand.

"Touche. Point taken. I'll get back on it as soon as I come back. Probably the first of next week if all goes well."

They stepped through the third sequential doorway and onto the facory floor. The noise level increased substantially. For the sake of the Vulcan technicians Trip had ordered sound baffles and sound-absorbing material to be installed throughout the plant. But the place still echoed from one wall to the other with hammering, drilling, welding, shouting, sawing, and occasional bouts of cursing.

"Reminds me of Santa's workshop everytime I step in here," Anna said impishly. Trip choked and shot her an appreciative glance.

"I take it Kov and his buddy are waiting in the main office?" he wanted to know.

"Yep," Anna told him. "I figured there was no telling where you might have wandered off to, so I parked 'em there and came looking."

"I meant to ask," Trip asked in a carefully innocent voice as they threaded their way between the machinery. "Eric called yesterday and mentioned that you were meeting up with the Eldest of Kov's clan last night to discuss the wedding ceremony. Everything go well?"

He yanked to a halt when Anna's hand clamped down on his collar. A quietly lethal voice whispered in his ear, "Trip Tucker, I love you like the brother Eric never had. But if you ever mention last night to me again, and I mean ever under any circumstances, I promise you most solemnly that I will be provoked to violence."

Trip chuckled. "It couldn't have been that bad."

"Trip," Anna inquired dangerously. "Would you like the full and fascinating details of your first shore leave on Risa to become public knowledge throughout the factory?"

He froze. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

"All right," he caved. "I won't mention it again. Scout's honor." He held up three fingers.

"Were you really a Scout?" Anna asked suspiciously.

"Take it or leave it," Trip snapped, disgruntled.

"All right, just don't forget that I know where the bodies are buried," she told him smugly. The resumed their trek officeward. The shallow concrete steps leading up to the second story were generally avoided by the Human staff in favor of the turbolift. Trip and Anna ignored the turbolift and took the steps two at a time. It was faster that way.

The entire second floor was air conditioned to twelve degrees centigrade below Human blood temperature at all times. The Vulcans found it chilly but tolerable. The Andorians considered it barely endurable, but at least it gave them a chance to get out of the refrigeration suits during meal breaks.

The side hallway leading to the offices, showers, and lunchroom was thickly carpeted. Around the right hand corner the first door led into the main reception area, which in turn led to Trip's office. As they entered Anna was telling Trip, "Kuvak asked me to paint another landscape to hang in the public gallery. Isn't that wild? I never thought anybody would consider my work that good."

"Don't sell yourself short, Anna," Trip told her, waving her through the doorway to his office and stepping through after her. "You have a real-" Every muscle in his body locked solid.

Kov and Tolaris had risen from the visitor's chairs when they entered. Boh men stood with hands folded and polite non-expressions on their faces. Trip stared and felt his own face getting tight and heating up.

"Tolaris." His voice snapped like a bowstring. Kov shot him an uneasy look while Anna turned toward Trip with gathered brows. "You got one hell of a nerve, I'll give you that much."

Tolaris closed his eyes and inclined his head. "Captain Tucker. I am honored to meet you again."

"Yeah. Right." Trip's voice was as flat as a board.

"Trip, what's going on?" Anna demanded. "I don't remember you two having any issues when the Vahklas docked with us. What's the problem?" Trip raised one hand and looked away, concentrating on his breathing.

Kov looked deeply troubled. "Trip, if there is some reason why you do not wish Captain Tolaris to join your team..."

"I believe I can clarify the situation," Tolaris said stiffly. He turned to look at Kov. "As you may already be aware, when we returned home I was diagnosed with pa'anar syndrome." Kov winced almost imperceptibly and nodded. "During our-"

"Shut up." Trip told him. "If you want to leave this office breathing, keep your goddam mouth shut. Got it?"

"Understood." Tolaris straightened looked toward the far wall. "Suffice that my illness affected both my judgment and my self-discipline." He looked back at Trip. "I wish you to be aware that I have received treatment since my return and I have been pronounced completely cured. However, I do not claim that this in any way mitigates my prior behavior."

Trip stared in disbelief. "You wanna blame it all on the pa'anar? That's it?"

"No," Tolaris said with as much dignity as the situation allowed. "I do not blame it on anything. I accept full responsibility for my behavior."

"What did you do?" Kov asked grimly. He did not look happy. Tolaris glanced at Trip.

"Captain Tucker has indicated that he prefers to keep the details private," Tolaris reminded Kov, who subsided looking chastened.

"Of course, I apologize," Kov said. He glanced at Anna, who looked mystified and held up both hands empty.

Trip stood gritting his teeth for a minute, then announced, "Everybody out of my office. Go wait in the reception area. I need to make a couple of calls." The two Vulcans obeyed immediately, but Anna came over and touched his arm.

"Trip," she looked disturbed. "Listen, I-"

"That was an order, commander." She blinked and stepped back.

"Yes, sir," she said between her teeth. Then she executed an about face and marched out, just barely short of stomping.

Trip sat down at his desk and rubbed his face. Then he concentrated for a moment and input an unusual series of numbers and symbols in Vulcan. A pattern appeared on the screen, representing the Vulcan High Council. Then the face of a middle-aged woman appeared. She spoke in High Vulcan. {Why dost thou call?}

Trip sighed. "I can barely understand you. Please use modern Vulcan or English."

{By what right dost thou demand this?}, the sour faced receptionist demanded.

Trip pinched his nose. Then he looked in her eyes and recited a short string of numbers, followed by the word "IDIC". The woman's eyes widened a trifle and she pushed a switch. The screen blanked, then cleared to show a pattern of colored interference. A machine filtered voice inquired, in flawless English, "What is the nature of your emergency?"

"I request a consultation with T'Pau at her earliest convenience regarding a matter of personal distress," Trip recited.

"Acknowledged," the machine voice replied. "Maintain connection." The interference remained on-screen and nothing more happened. Trip sighed and opened a second window, initiating a call to his home number. A few seconds later T'Pol's face appeared. She looked tense. Obviously he hadn't done a very good job of keeping it locked down.

"Sorry, hon," he told her tiredly. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"An apology is not called for, husband," T'Pol told him. "An explanation would be welcome however."

Trip closed his eyes. He just didn't have the steam to look at her face when he said it. "Kov and Anna just brought in Tolaris for a job interview."

He didn't need to look at her face. The recoil through the bond was more than enough to make her reaction crystal clear. "Do they know?" she asked dully.

"I'm not sure how much they know, or might have guessed," Trip said. Before he could continue the other half of the screen cleared to display the face of T'Pau. He sat up straighter and tried to adopt a more disciplined expression.

"Greetings, Chief Minister," Trip said carefully in Vulcan. "It is most agreeable that you were able to respond to my request so promptly."

"I have informed you during prior meetings, Charles," T'Pau said, "that I am available at any time to assist you and your family. How may I serve?"

Trip shot a glance at T'Pol and gave a quick summary of the situation. Then he switched back to English. "Since you already know about what happened, and you are an expert on the subject, I wanted to ask your opinion of something." T'Pol sat quietly, listening and offering no input. This was a matter of business, and it properly fell under the authority of the Head of the House. Trip silently prayed that he wouldn't end up making things worse, no matter how it worked out.

"Ask your question, Charles," T'Pau said patiently.

Trip took a deep breath. "Tolaris claims that his illness affected his judgment and his self-control. I'm not going to accept that as an excuse, but would it be possible for pa'anar to cause a person to behave in a way that they wouldn't otherwise act? Like, for example...you know... the way he acted?"

T'Pau looked deeply thoughtful, while T'Pol's distress trickled through despite her best efforts. Trip could feel her fighting to hold back the tide, but her emotions were leaking anyway.

Finally T'Pau told him, "Depending on the degree of damage, and on the circumstances, it is not impossible that some individuals might be induced to behave in a manner that was atypical to their ordinary patterns. For example, in the matter of Tolaris and T'Pol, it must be acknowledged that she did in fact invite the meld initially, and she did in fact consent to continuing the meld for a time while enjoying the pleasurable aspects of the interaction. It was only after the meld had been in place for a significant period that she suddenly decided to terminate the connection. Under such circumstances, if caught by surprise, it is possible that someone who was already compromised by pa'anar might find it challenging to react appropriately."

"And if he's cured now?" Trip asked grimly. He didn't look at T'Pol.

"I consider it unlikely that Tolaris would commit any criminal offense," T'Pau told him. "He would not have bene released from therapy if the healers were not confident that he was no danger to himself or others."

"I could refuse to hire him," Trip said, half to himself. "If nothin' else, I could invoke command privilege. But then I'd have to list a reason. Even under command privilege I can't just put down that I don't like the sonuvabitch." He leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "I suppose it isn't logical to hold someone responsible for what they chose to do when they weren't in their right mind, is it?" A sharp stab of pain came through the bond. He ignored it.

"If you do not wish Tolaris to be involved in the project," T'Pau said, "I will find another position for him. If necessary, I will create one."

"What would a Vulcan do?" Trip asked her, point-blank. "What, in your opinion, would be the logical course of action for someone in my position? Ignoring emotional bias."

"Ignoring emotional bias," T'Pau said bluntly, "If Tolaris has been treated and certified by the mind healers as cured, and if he is qualified for the position, you have no logical reason to refuse his application."

Trip nodded. "I am grateful for your assitance, Chief Minister. You have been most helpful."

"I am here to serve." T'Pau inclined her head and the screen went blank.

T'Pol started to open her mouth and Trip jumped in. "I better get back to work. I'll see you tonight. Give T'Lissa a hug for me." He hit the off switch before she could get a word in and sat back, shaking. Then he stood up and walked over to the door. "Tolaris, get in here and I'll give you your assignment. Anna, Kov, it was good to see you both. I'll see you next week Anna." Neither his tone nor his face invited reply, and none were forthcoming.

When Tolaris came into the office Trip told him, "Don't sit down, you won't be here that long. Here's how it's gonna work. You will be assigned to L'Haren's group. Do whatever he says, exactly the way he says to do it. You have one chance, and one chance only. One mistake, one screwup, on time you get caught bending a rule and you are out on your ass. Got it?"

"Understood." Tolaris stood at attention.

Trip stepped up in his face. He said quietly. "If I ever find out that you have let anyone, anywhere, know about what happened between you and my wife, I will hunt you down like meat. Believe it." He stepped back and resumed a normal tone. "This is a military project, we adhere to military standards of dress, cleanliness, and discipline. Report to L'Haren in grid 17q for further information and supplies. Dismissed." Tolaris spun around and headed out.

Trip walked over to the cabinet at the back wall of his office and pulled out a candle. He set it on the table beside the lounge he used when pulling the occasional triple shift. Then he sat down on the lounge and tried to enter the first level of meditation. After ten minutes he gave up and blew out the candle. He walked back to the desk and slid open a drawer, pulling out a bottle of well-aged whiskey. He poured three fingers into a disposable cup and downed in with dispatch. Then he interlaced his fingers and bowed his head over them.

"Our father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name..."

TBC