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 story makes several references to events that took place during earlier stories in my series. It also 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. 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.

[I really appreciate all the comments people have taken the time to leave. This will most likely sound strange, but in some ways it's better than the money I make off my commercial fiction.

But some of the readers haven't been paying attention to my note at the top of every chapter. This story is the last one in a fairly long series. A lot of the references in this story are derived from my earlier stories.

For example, the conversation between Jul and Kerlek in chapter 9 was derived from an idea that I introduced in a story titled Purgatory. In fact, it actually started before that. Phlox and Kerlek discover that the Preservers (ancient aliens introduced in the original ST series) infused Humanity's ancestors with a dose of Vulcan DNA, which converted them from Homo Erectus into Cro-Magnon. I presented this as being the reason that Cro-Magnon invented war. And why modern Humans look more like Vulcans than we look like Neanderthals.

The issue about Vulcan v. Human genotypes, and which is healthier for a hybrid baby, was introduced in my first story, as part of the explanation for baby Elizabeth's illness when she was rescued from Terra Prime. Trip and T'Pol's great to the umpteenth grandson told them that they fixed her by making her Vulcan genome dominant.

If you haven't read my previous stories, you are going to run into things like that fairly often. I try to toss in reminders as much as I can without breaking the flow of the story. I don't know what else I can do, short of simply repeating everything in each story.

All I can do is point to the rest of the series and invite you to have at it. Hopefully, if you like this one you might like them too.

In order, the stories in this series are:

1) For Want of a Nail

2) In The Cold of The Night

3) Father To The Man

4) Purgatory

5) Hess + Kov

6) and this critter, Vahklas]

Chapter 10:

"We're approaching the limits of sensor range, captain," Travis said. "No sign of hostile ships. The nebula looks different than it did when we were here before."

"Lieutenant Ishikawa," Captain Archer said, "scan for the presence of the subspace corridor. You should be able to pick up some trace readings."

The young man bent intently over his instruments. "I'm not seeing anything yet, captain. With all of the anomalies gone, a lot of things in the expanse have changed. The nebula has even altered shape. It's possible that this end of the subspace corridor has shifted location."

"Slow to three-quarter impulse," Archer said. "Malcolm, tactical alert. Hoshi, advise the Suritan and the Charon to hold position."

"Aye, sir," Commander Reed said. The red light began flashing unobtrusively. A moderately loud alarm pulsated for five seconds, then shut off.

"Acknowledged." Hoshi spoke rapidly into her mike. "Captain. Subcommander Gelar recommends that the Suritan take point position. He wants us to wait until they confirm that there aren't any Kovaalans waiting."

"Thank the subcommander," Archer said, "and advise him that I would rather he remain to protect Charon. If something happens to us, a warp three freighter would be easy meat. The Suritan is better equipped to make sure that the supplies get to North Star intact. Besides." He cleared his throat and looked away. "They were our families."

"Yes, sir," Hoshi said. Everyone on the bridge shared looks and nods.

"We will encounter the outer edge of the nebula in less than twenty minutes, captain," Ishikawa said. "So far, I'm still not reading any sign of ships. Or for that matter, any manufactured materials."

"Maintain alert status," Archer said. "Keep scanning."

The Enterprise slid into the nebula's fringe. "Scan for metreon particles," Commander Reed said. "Last time we were here, they came in pretty handy. We used them to confuse the enemy sensors and gained a decisive advantage."

"I'm not seeing any evidence of them," the lieutenant said. "No metreon radiation at all. I don't know what could have dispersed it. Or perhaps something else is masking it."

"Might be another symptom of the changes that took place after the spheres were destroyed," Archer muttered. "Keep looking, Lieutenant. We're not leaving here until we find out what happened to our people."

"Boss?"

Trip shook the distraction out of his head and looked across the lab. "Yeah, Marty. What do you need?"

Crewman Martin asked, "Are you all right, sir? You look punch-drunk."

Several Vulcans glanced over with disapproving expressions and Trip sighed. "It's a traditional expression, guys. He doesn't literally mean that I look like I've been drinking."

"Nothing wrong with it if you had," Maelin, one of the Andorian techs said testily. "A warrior of your record can certainly be trusted to know your own limits."

"What I meant," Martin said, "is that the boss looks like he's been hit with a club or something. Are you all right, captain?"

Trip chuckled. "I'll be fine. One of my wife's clan members is a psychologist. She's doing research into Human telepathy, and I spent all morning being a test subject. My head feels like somebody rammed hot spikes in both eyes."

"Ouch," Martin winced in sympathy.

The Andorian pulled in a deep breath between her teeth. "That's horrible! Psych testing? Surely you can't be compelled to endure something like that? You have important duties to perform." She looked appalled.

R'Nall, one of the Vulcan consultants, who was also a member of T'Pol's clan, spoke up. "It is not within the realm of possibility that a member of our clan would inflict harm on another member of the family."

"Harm is relative," Maelin glowered. "Who knows what all that probing and stimulating and shocking will do to the captain's ability to focus? Marty has already remarked that his appearance indicates severe distress, and another Human should certainly know the signs. Someone who looks like they have been 'hit with a club' is hardly in proper condition to command a highly technical operation."

Trip rubbed his eyes and tossed a reproachful look across the room at Marty, who turned red and looked apologetic. "All right, everyone," Trip said. "If it will settle the controversy, I'll go rest a few minutes in my office with the air conditioning turned up. Satisfied?"

"Might be a good idea, boss," Martin said. "Seriously."

"All right, momma. I'm going." Trip headed for the office, sighing and rubbing his face.

Anna sat for a few minutes after the aircar docked, fighting to regain something like control. She silently gave thanks that she had thought to take a full day off. Right then the thought of going back to work was a good deal less appealing than oral surgery. Finally she forced herself up and out, to find Kov waiting at the edge of the rooftop landing pad with a deeply worried expression. He jumped to meet her, ignoring dignity, and her heart melted.

"Anna." His arms wrapped her, almost as warm and comforting as the loving concern that surged through the bond. "Food and drink are waiting. Unless you would rather rest."

"It doesn't matter." She leaned heavily on him, hanging on tight. "I'm all right now."

They rode the turbo life to the main dining hall in silence, sharing everything that they needed through the bond. Words could wait. Kov continued to hang onto her like she was an invalid all the way down the hall and over to her chair.

Kuvak stood in concern. "Are you ill, Anna? Krewar can have the kitchen staff prepare a tray."

"I'm fine, Kuvak." Anna straightened. "I am not ill nor injured. I'm displaying the evidence of stress and I ask pardon for my lapse in discipline."

"In the family, all is silence," Kuvak made a small gesture. "Sit. If you wish to confide the source of your distress, I am available to assist."

Anna looked at Kuvak, then back at his son, then shook her head. "Between the two of you, a girl would have to work pretty damn hard to get herself so much as bruised around here." She smiled wryly and sat down. "I might as well get this over with. It's not likely to improve with age. Did Kov tell you what we learned from Kerlek yesterday?"

"No." Kuvak glanced at his son. "Nor did I inquire."

"Of course not." She sighed. Kov took her hand, and the sense of concern amplified by an order of magnitude. Anna gratefully squeezed his fingers. "According to Kerlek, Kov and I are genetically compatible. He believe that a competent geneticist, certainly a Denobulan specialist, would have no trouble making our baby."

Kuvak smiled faintly. She could feel Kov's shock. But there was no question of it. The man had, for just a brief instant, allowed an actual smile to flicker across his face. Anna smiled back, sadly. "But there's a problem."

"For every problem, there exists a solution," Kuvak said firmly. "I am certain that one can be found for this problem, whatever it may be."

"I already have." Anna turned and grabbed Kov's hand in both of hers. His brows were pulling together.

"Anna? I do... ah." His face cleared. "You have reconsidered Kerlek's suggestion?"

"No," she said firmly. "Our baby is going to have Vulcan dominant genes."

"Then, I am confused," Kov said.

"I confess to confusion as well," Kuvak said. "May I be permitted to understand the details that you are discussing?"

Anna filled her lungs to capacity. "I ca... can't..." She stopped and tried again. "I can't carry..." Anna locked her jaws and snarled. "I can't carry our baby." She bowed her head and the sobbing smashed though her last defenses.

Kov knelt beside her chair and wrapped her up in another hug. He told Kuvak, "Healer Kerlek explained that Anna's body would reject a baby with copper based blood. Therefore, a child with a genome similar to that of T'Lissa Tucker is not feasible for us. We will need to have a child whose Human genome is dominant."

"No." Anna's strangled moan was barely audible, but she forced herself to sit up straight. "I told you. The baby wouldn't be as strong or as healthy that way. So that's not the way we're going to do it. End of discussion."

"Anna, there is no other way," Kov said.

"The Eldest Mother is going to find a host mother for us," Anna said bluntly. Silence fell. She fidgeted under their stares. "It's the only way." They still said nothing. "I sorry Kov!"

His face changed. "Anna, you have no reason to be sorry. But... do you realize..."

"I know exactly what it means," she said firmly. "I talked to the Eldest for quite a while. We went over all the details. She's going to find someone as closely related to you as possible. Kerlek told me that will give the baby the best possible environment. I know about bonding in the womb...," she took a shuddering breath. "We will deal with it. I can start preliminary bonding anyway. All we need now is to find someone who is willing to carry our baby."

Kuvak sat with his hands folded, silently listening until she had finished. "Anna, may I speak?"

"What?" She looked startled. "This is your house, Kuvak. You don't need to ask me anything."

"To the contrary, Anna," Kuvak said. "You are, or soon will be, the matron of this House. The subject under discussion involves family matters, specifically gestation and nurturing, which are the undisputed province of female authority."

"Um." She made a quick grimace. "I am still trying to get used to this arrangement. But ok. Please, go ahead."

"I presume" Kuvak said, "from the context of your discussion that it is necessary for one species genome to be established as the dominant pattern. You stated that the child would be less strong and healthy if the Human genome were made dominant. Is Healer Kerlek quite certain of this? I am puzzled as to why this should be the case."

"No one knows why," Anna said tiredly. "That's just the way it works. But I didn't learn it from Kerlek. I..." her eyes widened. "Oh, shit." She rubbed her face. "I'm so sorry. I can't tell you. I am sorry. I'm so sorry. I hate this. But I can't tell you. Horrible things might happen if I tell you how I know this. I'm so sorry." She started crying again. "Everything else isn't enough. Now I have to lie to my own husband and his family." Her shoulders shook.

"You are not lying about anything, Anna," Kov rubbed her shoulder. "You would not withhold this information if it were not necessary."

"Anna." Kuvak's tone demanded her attention. She sniffled and looked up. "I currently retain Top Secret data relating to no fewer than seventy-one ongoing Security investigations, fifty-eight crucial Intelligence operations, and multiple personnel matters, none of which I am at liberty to discuss here. If I refrain from revealing this data, am I lying?"

"No." She sounded like a little girl.

"I, like Kov, am certain," Kuvak continued, "that you have good and sufficient reason for withholding the source of your information. I am also confident that you are certain of the accuracy of your information. Particularly since your are using it as the basis for your decision that as host mother will be required. It is unlikely in the extreme that you would do this if you did not consider it imperative. The information you have provided will remain confidential within the family, unless others are already aware of it."

"Trip and T'Pol know," Anna said quietly. "They're the ones who told me. I meant I can't tell where they got it from. It's not something, I mean it's not someplace that... we're not supposed to be able to get information from there."

"Ah." Kuvak inclined his head. "Clandestine information sources, which carry potential negative consequences if revealed, are routine for government matters. Set your concerns at rest, Anna."

"Now," Kov said. "I think you should eat something. At least part of your exhaustion is due to hunger. Is the meal acceptable? If not, I will go to the kitchen and prepare an alternative."

Anna sighed again. Seemed like she was doing that a lot lately. "It's fine, honey. Just sit here and talk to me. How did your day go?"

Kov moved over to his chair and cleared his throat. "Our attempt to negotiate a modification of our trading agreement with the Tellarites has not been encouraging. They insist that..."

As the family settled down to a more or less peaceful meal, a newly hired kitchen assistant was standing silently in one of the smaller storage closets. When the table conversation turned to innocuous subjects, he switched off a tiny instrument. A holovid, barely as tall as his hand, disappeared. The man slid the device into a crevice in the stone wall, and waved his hand over the area. When he dropped his hand, the wall appeared to be unbroken stone. He waited.

A small figure appeared in front of him, silently. No one here-and-now would have recognized the species of the new individual. But that was irrelevant. No one here-and-now was equipped to detect him. Not even if they were in the same room with him.

"Signal acknowledged," the short figure said. "Report."

"Secure," the kitchen assistant said. "No intervention required. Hess has supplied the impression that her knowledge of hybrid physiology is based on unlawfully acquired intel. Her mate and mate-clan do not question this."

"Reasonable," the short figure said. "As per standing orders, no intervention will be made if it can be avoided. Commence extraction routine. The next cusp on this branch is not due for another six hundred and thirteen days. Meanwhile, the Tucker branch is coming to a head. Twenty-three point nine nine percent probability of incursion necessity."

"Tucker again?"

"No." The smaller figure's face was not visible behind the faceplate of its suit, but its tone was exasperated. "The Andorians. Precise timing will depend on unconnected Vulcan aspects. But no more than nine days, and probably much less."

"How?! Andorians are not even temporally informed."

"But they are heavily armed," the small figure said, "Hopefully, it will not come to that. But we must be ready. When Andorians become enraged, anything is possible. We can't have them attacking Vulcan at this point. Not with the Romulan fleet nearly reaching full strength."

"We could spike all of their ale with chocolate," the kitchen assistant suggested.

"Don't tempt me," the short figure said.

Trip's dragged himself into his office, cranked the air conditioner up to full blast, and made a general announcement that he was going to be doing paperwork and not to disturb him unless something blew up. Then he fumbled a cup of obscenely powerful coffee from the drinks dispenser and poured it down like the medicine it was.

Once he finished gagging and grimacing, he groped his way over to the couch at the back of his office and laid down gingerly, hoping that his skull wouldn't actually crack like an egg when it hit the cushion. Three minutes later he was asleep.

Forty-two minutes later the comm unit woke him up. He rolled to his feet venting curses that would have made an Orion blush. Trip fell into his desk chair like a sack of sand and punched the actuator button, not giving a crap what he looked like. "Hello," he snarled.

Kerlek looked startled. "Greetings, Captain Tucker. I hope I am not interrupting anything crucial."

"Oh. Healer Kerlek." Trip firmly took hold of his self-discipline. "Sorry for sounding snappish. I was taking a nap and the comm woke me up. I'm always a little out of it when I first wake up."

"I apologize for disturbing you," Kerlek said. "After consulting with Jul, we would like to arrange a consultation with yourself and Lady T'Pol at your convenience."

Trip stiffened. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Kerlek raised a hand. "Please do not misunderstand. We did not discover anything to cause concern. However there are some points of information that we believe it would be beneficial for you to be aware of. I also intend to invite Commander Hess and Ministerial Assistant Kov to join us. The matter will affect them as well, since it relates to Human-Vulcan mating generally."

"What's this about?" Trip asked.

"As I said, it is nothing to cause concern," Kerlek told him. "In fact, it relates to the research that Dr. Phlox and I were conducting. I am sure you recall assisting us with it." Trip nodded. "Jul's work today revealed some supplementary information, and it seemed an opportune time to discuss the matter with the people for whom the data is most relevant."

"All right," Trip said. "I'll talk to T'Pol and have her arrange something."

"That will be most agreeable," Kerlek said. "Live long and prosper, captain." The screen went dark. Trip yawned and decided that it was still worth trying. Maybe another couple of hours would fix his headache, and he could finally get some work done. Supper was going to be late again, no doubt.

This time, he got in one hour and eleven minutes before the comm went off. "I'm gonna kill someone," he told the ceiling. "I don't know who. But someone is gonna die."

This time the screen cleared to reveal T'Pau. He straightened with a jerk and automatically ran a hand through his hair. "Chief Minister. Greetings. Peace and long life to you. How may I serve?"

"Live long and prosper, Trip," T'Pau inclined her head. "I sincerely regret interrupting your work. Even more, I regret to report the reason. It seems that some of the elders of Tolaris's clan have taken offense at his discharge from your project. They have filed formal charges against T'Pol's clan, and called for an investigation. Under the circumstances, since both you and Anna are affiliate members of Vulcan clans, I have no choice but to convene a hearing. Yourself, T'Pol, Anna, and Kov are hereby summoned to appear before the High Council at the fourth hour, three days hence. The specific charge being brought is vengeful defamation."

Trip locked his teeth and stopped breathing, focusing inward and concentrating with everything he had on the Disciplines. After a timeless interval he came back to himself, to find T'Pau patiently waiting and watching. "I ask pardon, Chief Minister, for my distraction. We will be there."

The screen went black. Trip rubbed his eyes for a moment, then keyed in the code for his home.

Captain Archer straightened his uniform one more time and ran a hand down the side of his dress jacket. He wished with all his soul that he was anywhere else, doing anything else at all. He would far rather be fighting for his life against an angry Klingon, or wading alien sewage on a space station while searching for an elusive Xindi. But there was no escape from this. He had tried to find one. They had all tried, for two days.

The door slid open and he stepped through into Enterprise's gym. Commander Reed called out, "Captain on deck!" The assembled crew, except for the skeleton shift that was currently keeping things up and running, stiffened to rigid attention. Everyone was wearing their dress uniform, in top condition. Every button, every medal, every speck of metal gleamed. All eyes were locked forward, fixed on the pedestal that Archer walked toward. He laid down a piece of paper and rest his hands on both sides of the lectern, bowing his head for a moment.

"We gather here today, at this place in space, to remember and give honor to our fallen." He stopped and swallowed. Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, a dozen other faces watched him with supporting eyes. He took a deep breath and stood straighter. "We have all faced loss in our time together. We have lost comrades, and we have lost family. All of us have known the pa-," he caught his breath, "the pain of losing someone precious to us. But the loss we face today is one that cannot be expressed in words."

Captain Archer rubbed his face briefly. "When we first met the alternate Enterprise, I was as shocked as anyone. Despite the fact that we, the crew of this ship, already knew that time travel was possible, that still did not prepare me for meeting my own grandchild. I am sure that I was far from the only one who felt this way." Heads all over the room nodded.

"As I grew to know my granddaughter." He had to stop again for a moment. "As we spoke, and I learned who she was, and what her life had been like, I came to understand what a precious gift it was, to have this link to the future. This personal connection that would live on after I... was... gone." Archer grabbed the sides of the lectern and held on with white knuckles. The room was utterly silent. He took several deep, slow breaths. Then he looked up with no expression.

"We have suffered a loss that cannot be described. Only those who have also felt this pain can know what it means. There is only one thing that makes this pain endurable for me, barely." He blinked rapidly. "It is the knowledge that because of my granddaughter's willing sacrifice, because of the willing sacrifice of all of our grandchildren, billions of our people on Earth will never know the pain that we are feeling now."

He could not have released his grip from the podium to save his life. "It does not ease the pain. Nothing will ever ease it. But I know that she made this choice freely, and that she would have made the same choice if she had known beforehand that it was going to happen this way. I believe they all would have. This, and this alone, is what lets me go on."

He closed his eyes and slumped. "We are gathered here together to speak of our loved ones. To remember them, and to say good-bye. From now until 2400 hours, the ship will be manned by a randomly chosen skeleton crew, working half shifts. Everyone off duty is welcome to come here and help remember. An empty torpedo tube is being prepared for launch into the area where the E2 was lost. Anyone who wishes to do so is welcome to place any notes, cards, or gifts that they desire in the tube. At 2400 hours we will launch the tube as a symbolic farewell. We will them resume course to Northstar." He hesitated. "God help us all. Dismissed."

He stepped back and wiped his forehead. Malcolm came over and quietly said, "Very nicely done, sir. I'm certain it will help the crew cope a bit better. Being here, the searching, all of this." He waved a hand. "It's brought everything back for lot of people. Hearing someone say it out loud might make it easier."

Archer managed a somewhat bitter smile. "I doubt it, Malcolm. But thanks for the encouragement. Can you handle things here for a time? I think I'd like to be alone in my quarters for a while."

"Certainly, sir," Malcolm said. "Take your time. I'll let you know if anything comes up." The captain nodded and walked out, a bit unsteadily, under his first officer's worried eye. T'Jala moved up behind Malcolm silently.

"The ceremony was more restrained than I had anticipated," she said, softly. "It was quite similar to a Vulcan memorial. Without the open acknowledgment of emotion of course."

Malcolm looked at her and smiled, just barely. "Sometimes, when a Human feels things the most intensely is when we display it the least."

She regarded him, then reached out to touch his fingertips. "Yet another point of similarity, ashayam."

TBC