EnterpriseThe Maiden Voyage

by Soledad

For disclaimer, rating, etc. see the Introduction

Notes are at the end of the chapter.


Chapter 19 – Secrets, Insults and Lies

While Reed and Mayweather were busy with the drill on the comet's surface, Alpha Shift went off-duty. Hoshi made a detour to her quarters for a quick wash; then she rode the turbolift to Deck D, where the guest quarters and those of the senior officers were situated. She was supposed to meet T'Pol in her quarters before the dinner with the Vulcan captain.

She found their resident Vulcan sitting on the floor, meditating with candles. It took her a moment to realise that the candles were sculpted from some alabaster-like stone, with holographic flames.

It made sense, actually. Jack would never give permission to use open flames in the closed environment of a starship. Nor would Vulcan logic find them acceptable, most likely.

"You wanted to speak with me, Subcommander?" she asked uncertainly. Despite having been invited, she felt like an intruder.

The Vulcan gave her a fleeting glance. "Yes. Thank you for agreeing to this meeting. Please, sit down."

"Sure." Hoshi sat on the floor, crossing her legs comfortably, and looked around with interest. T'Pol's living room was almost empty, save for the computerized desk that came with it. The air was warm and dry, the lights dim, and the gravity set clearly higher than the Earth norm. Vulcan conditions, obviously. "I've never seen your quarters before. They are even more Spartan than mine, and I get a lot of comments on that."

"Sombre surroundings are helpful for meditation," T'Pol replied. "You should try it."

"Perhaps I will. God knows, I could use help with getting my issues under control," Hoshi sighed. "Yoga and meditation kept me sane in prison… well, as sane as I could hope to remain anyway. I've neglected my exercises since coming on board, though; that was a mistake, but there were too many distractions."

The presence of Malcolm Reed being the main one. But she didn't want to talk about that right now.

"I can teach you methods you may find useful to achieve better focus," T'Pol offered unexpectedly.

"Thank you; I'd like that very much," Hoshi was surprised; touched, even. Who would have expected a Vulcan – any Vulcan – to reach out to a human? "But I've come to talk about you today. So, what can I do for you?"

"Doctor Phlox believes that it might help if I were to discuss my problem with someone in whom I felt comfortable confiding," T'Pol explained.

"And you want to talk to me?" The young comm. officer felt even more surprised. Sure, they got along well enough, but she would never have expected the solitary Vulcan to confide in her – or in anyone on board, honestly. "If it's – if it's about the contents of your letter," she ploughed on, blushing at the memory of her intrusion on such a private matter, "I'm not sure I'm going to be much help. I've never been betrothed, and the few relationships I've been in were all very short-lived. Men – human men at least – don't like taking second place behind a woman's work. . Are you sure you wouldn't rather talk to Ensign Kimball? She's married."

"Speaking with someone else would mean more people knowing about my situation," pointed out T'Pol. "I would rather avoid it becoming an issue of ship-wide gossip. It is a deeply private matter. I was assured that I can count on your discretion."

"Sure, I won't breathe a word about it," Hoshi promised. "I'm still not sure what your problem is, though."

"You read the letter."

"Yes, I have, but the only thing I could understand is that the family of your… betrothed, was it?" T'Pol nodded. "That they demand from you to return to Vulcan immediately and go through the koon-ut-kali-fee – which, if I'm not mistaken, is the Vulcan equivalent of a marriage ceremony."

"That is correct."

"I still don't see the problem. Do you no longer want to marry the guy, what's his name…?"

"Koss."

"Not an S-name, huh?" Hoshi commented in surprise.

"Different clans have different traditions for naming their children," the Vulcan explained, "although all female names begin with a T, to signal the person's betrothed status. Usually, only those related to Surak's clan give their sons S-names; or the ones extraordinarily devoted to his teachings."

"And Koss's family isn't." It wasn't really a question, but T'Pol nodded nevertheless. "Still, he must be a decent guy if you decided to marry him in the first place."

"I did not." Her voice was flat. "Marriages on Vulcan are arranged during childhood. When we were both seven Vulcan years old, our minds were telepathically bound together by a priestess in a ceremony known as the koon-ut-la. I've only met Koss four times since then."

"They expect you to spend your life with a guy you've only met four times? How is that supposed to work?"

"It is assumed that we would eventually develop an affection for one another. Most Vulcan couples do, given enough time. The telepathic bond between spouses is usually very… intense."

"Not in your case, apparently," Hoshi commented.

The Vulcan inclined her head. "No, it is not. But that was to be expected. A bond like that needs to be cultivated to grow in intensity."

"How?"

"There is a custom called ten'chara, in which betrothed spouses briefly communicate telepathically with each other, while their families discuss the couple's future. Ten'chara is used to begin the bonding process for marriage and is usually performed once a year." T'Pol paused. "Koss and I have only performed ten'chara four times in our entire lives."

"Why?"

"My work has kept me away from Vulcan for decades."

"And?" Hoshi was still not getting it.

"Vulcans are touch-telepaths, Ensign. To be able to communicate telepathically, we need physical contact. Only mated couples after decades of sharing are capable of reaching each other through their bond while in different places."

Hoshi nodded. Things were starting to make sense at last. "So his parents send you an ultimatum? He doesn't have a say?"

"His parents planned the union. It's their decision – at least theoretically."

"While in reality…?" She trailed off expectantly.

The Vulcan remained silent for a minute or so, obviously struggling inwardly. "Have you ever heard of the pon farr?" she finally asked.

Hoshi nodded. "I've read about it in some ancient Golic text when I was learning Vulcan. It is the mating madness, isn't it?"

"Indeed; a periodically occurring chemical imbalance in our males that can drive them mad or kill them – unless they mate or purge the madness through ritual combat."

"It's still happening in these days?" Hoshi was shocked. "And what about the women?"

"Unbonded women, or those with a very weak bond, are not – or only superficially –affected. It is a strong bond that triggers the pon farr in the woman, while her mate goes through the blood fever."

"And how does this affect your bond with Koss?" Hoshi asked. "Since it's obviously a weak one and all that?"

"When it is not possible to unite with his promised one, either due to death or the sheer impossibility of returning home, the male is free to choose a different mate in a declaration called koon-ut-so'lik." T'Pol explained. Then, after a long, meaningful pause, she added. "Koss declared koon-ut-so'lik when he first experienced pon farr, since I was beyond his reach at the time, serving on board of the science vessel Seleya."

"Does this mean that he's basically married to another woman now?" Hoshi tried to clarify. Even though she was fluent in Ancient Golic, the whole concept was very confusing.

"No," T'Pol said. "His bond with the other female was a temporary one. Those can be broken by an experienced healer with relative ease."

"That's what his parents want? To break his bond with the other woman and make him marry you? Why now?"

"Our koon-ut-kali-fee was supposed to take place while we were in the Berengaria system. When I decided to remain on Enterprise, instead of returning home with Minister Solkar, Koss's parents were insulted that I would put off our – their – plans in order to serve on a human vessel."

Hoshi thought about the problem for a moment. "You can go home with the Ti'Mur, though, can't you? Why don't you go marry Koss, then come back?"

"It's customary for a husband and wife to reside together for at least one Vulcan year."

"But it doesn't have to be on Vulcan, does it?" The ensign was thinking furiously. "Maybe he can come to Enterprise?"

"He is an architect." T'Pol seemed dangerously close to resignation… for a Vulcan anyway. "It would be illogical for him to live aboard a starship."

"True, he wouldn't be of much use here; and Enterprise isn't a pleasure cruiser," her companion agreed. "Well, I guess it all comes down to what you want, in the end."

"That is irrelevant," the Vulcan said tonelessly.

Hoshi shook her head in fierce determination. "No, it's not. It's very relevant. Do you want to go back and marry this guy, spend a year with him, ten years, a hundred years, or do you want to stay on Enterprise?"

"I have an obligation," pointed out T'Pol. "This union is very important for my family; for reasons I am not allowed to discuss."

"You've got an obligation to yourself as well," was the obvious reply. "When I allowed others to use my family to make me give them what they wanted – it got me in prison, where I'd still be rotting away if not for Jack Archer. And even so, I'm gonna be in indentured servitude for the next five years! Everyone has got the right to make their personal choices – even Vulcans."

"You have learned our language," said the Vulcan after a lengthy pause. "You have studied our customs, as far as an outsider could. You ought to know that our commitment to tradition outweighs personal choices."

"Believe me, I know all about tradition and how it can cripple one's freedom," Hoshi laughed bitterly. "I'm Japanese, but our family has lived in England for two centuries. To keep their cultural roots, my parents tried to out-balance that fact by being so conservative that I was the laughing stock of my schoolmates. They even tried to arrange a marriage for me with an acceptable Japanese man – and arranged marriages went out on Earth with slavery. In theory anyway. Tradition is fine, but only as long as it doesn't undermine your entire future."

"That might be true for you," T'Pol replied slowly. "My obligation is to my culture, my heritage. It has to take precedence."

"It sounds to me as if you'd be trying very hard to convince yourself about that. Did it ever occur to you that you might have postponed the wedding because subconsciously you wanted to get out of it?"

"That would imply that my subconscious mind controls my decisions." The customary Vulcan stiffness was back. "It doesn't."

"Really?" Hoshi raised an eyebrow in a mock copy of the Vulcan gesture.

"It is not supposed to," T'Pol reiterated. "However, my family is in a somewhat… delicate position in such matters."

"Of which you can't speak."

"Correct."

"Then I'm sorry but I really don't know how to help you."

"You already have." T'Pol paused again. "I did not give you much on which to base your advice; I apologise for burdening you with my problems."

"Don't." Hoshi waved away her concern. "That's what friends are for, isn't it?"

"I would not know," answered the Vulcan after a moment of consideration. "I never had a human friend before. Are we friends… in human terms?"

"Not yet," Hoshi smiled. It was touching to see this highly capable, experienced woman (who was probably twice her age) struggle with such simple concepts as human friendship. "But I'd like to give it a try. What about you?"

The Vulcan considered the offer unhurriedly. "That would be agreeable," she finally said. "Thank you, Ensign."

"Hoshi. My name is Hoshi."

"I am aware of that fact. Thank you, Hoshi."


Jack Archer had not expected their dinner with the captain of the Ti'Mur to be a joyful event, despite the fact that Gerasen Gerasal had accepted the invitation and promised to run interference if she had to. Jack's expectations (or the lack thereof) were proved correct, almost as soon as they sat down to eat.

Other than the Viseeth and T'Pol, he invited Charlie Tucker and Doctor Phlox to the event; the former because he had worked with Vulcans before, the latter because he most likely knew more about Vulcans in general than anyone else aboard Enterprise – anyone who wasn't Vulcan themselves, that is. Jack would have liked to invite Hoshi as well, if for no other reason than because she spoke Vulcan fluently, but he could hardly justify having a junior officer present. Besides, with six people around the table his private dining room was quite crowded already.

The meal, of course, was excellent. Jack wasn't into vegan diet, but even he had to admit that Chef had a knack for turning the blandest ingredients into something thoroughly enjoyable. The Ulan soup in particular was rich in hot, spicy flavour.

Gerasen Gerasal clearly agreed with him in that point because she was obviously enjoying her soup very much. Jack wondered briefly what it would taste like for her amphibian taste buds; then he pushed that thought from the focus of his attention and turned to their guest.

"If I'm not mistaken, you're flying a Suurok-class ship."

"You are not mistaken." The Vulcan's tone strongly discouraged any further inquiries, but Jack wasn't giving up so easily.

"You can get her up to, what, six, six point five?"

"Six point five." If possible, Captain Vanik's tone grew even more forbidding. He clearly didn't expect his host to see that as a challenge.

"I'd love to get a look inside those nacelles," Charlie Tucker commented innocently.

Vanik stiffened so much that Jack feared his spine would snap; not that that would have been such a tragic loss. "Our warp systems are classified."

"Now isn't that a surprise?" Charlie grimaced a bit at his main course; he wasn't a fan of vegan dishes. "With such accommodatin' allies, who needs enemies?"

"Trip!" Jack said in a warning tone; then he turned back to their guest with a big, fake smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I apologise on behalf of my chief engineer, Captain. He's always eager to learn from your people and frankly, I can't really blame him. Vulcan ships are amazing. A few years back I was a guest aboard a Maymora-class ship, the Yarahla. Captain Torak. Do you know him?"

"Not personally." Vanik's voice was emotionless, as it could be expected, but something in it suggested disapproval – whether towards his fellow Vulcan captain or the fact that Torak had allowed a lowly human on board his ship, was hard to tell.

"I met Captain Torak at a joint interspecies meeting last year," Phlox said with one of his unnaturally wide smile. "He is a remarkably open-minded person… for a Vulcan," he added, giving Vanik a wink that was ignored.

"That he is," Jack agreed hurriedly, before his chief medical officer could put his foot even deeper into his mouth. "We made a run to a dark matter nebula. He let me help set up the graviton telescope. Most fun I've ever had on a space walk. Those Vulcan EV suits are something else, like you're flying around inside your own little starship."

"You are easily impressed," Vanik said condescendingly.

"No, I'm really not," Jack replied. "But if you mean I haven't lost my sense of wonder yet, then I agree. I hope I'll never dry up in the inside so much that I won't be able to appreciate all the amazing things we're about to encounter."

The addition like you hung between them unspoken. The following silence was anything but pleasant… until Gerasen Gerasal decided to run interference.

"Is something wrong with your Pok'tar, Captain?" she asked innocently

The Vulcan almost startled. Gerasen Gerasal had blended in with her surroundings so well until then that he had probably forgotten about her presence. Telepaths could do that: surrounding themselves with telepathic 'white noise', so it would seem as if they weren't even there.

"No," Vanik said after a moment.

The Viseeth tilted her head to the side with that lizard-like gesture of hers. "If it is not to your liking, I am sure Captain Archer can have something else prepared for you. Humans are accommodating by their very nature; and Chef Williams is quite gifted at preparing Vulcan dishes."

"I have already eaten," Vanik replied stonily.

"Really?" Jack found that Gerasen Gerasal faked surprise very convincingly. "Why would you do something so illogical – unless, of course, you wanted to deliberately insult our hosts?"

Deathly silence fell over the room. Jack was biting the inside of his cheek so as not to laugh. Charlie, for his part, didn't even try to hide his grin.

"Perhaps he was saving room for dessert," he offered right on cue as the petty officer arrived with the Ameelak, served in small, quadratic glass bowls.

Temperatures in the room dropped another ten degrees or so.

"Well, since you obviously like to watch us, I thought we could make it easier for you," Jack said, addressing Vanik again, while the others – even T'Pol – were enjoying their dessert. "Commander Tucker can give you a tour around. Enterprise may not be Suurok-class, but she's quite a ship."

"Perhaps another time," the Vulcan said stiffly. The conversation came to another screeching halt.

In the meantime Daniels collected the used dishes and brought in the hot Seya, a spicy tea that traditionally closed formal Vulcan meals.

"Tea?" he asked the Vulcan.

Vanik refused to accept. "I only drink water."

"I'm afraid the chances of you being offered water on this ship are slim, Captain," Phlox said in a falsely cheerful voice, his tone making sure he was well aware of the true meaning of his own words.

Offering water was a gesture of friendship and trust in Vulcan tradition. These were things that Vanik had yet to earn from the captain of the Enterprise, and was unlikely to earn any time soon.

"I think I must agree with the doctor's prediction," Jack said with a smile that was colder than a snow storm on Rigel X. "Well; this was a singularly unpleasant experience. One that I'm not eager to repeat in the foreseeable future." He rose from his seat, and his officers, including T'Pol, automatically followed suit. "I'm sure you're eager to get back to your ship so I'll trouble you with just one last question. How long do you plan on spying on us?"

The Vulcan rose, too, his face unreadable. "If we were spying, Captain, you would have never detected our presence."

"Perhaps not," Jack agreed. "Which is likely the reason why we only caught you now. I'd love to know what's in that comet that's so important that you gave up your cover for it, but I don't expect you to tell me. The Vulcan who'd be honest with us has to be born yet."

"Your attitude towards us borders on paranoia, Captain," Vanik stated. "Your inexperience and your arrogance are your enemies, not us."

"If that isn't the pot callin' the kettle black," Charlie muttered angrily, and – despite his annoyance – Jack couldn't quite suppress a grin at the identical blank look on the faces of the two Vulcans. Before he could have – reluctantly – reprimanded Trip, though, the comm unit beeped.

"Captain, you should take a look at this." Hoshi's voice sounded anxious. "Travis and Lieutenant Reed are having problems."

"On my way." Jack opened the door and waved in Crewman Burrows, the security officer on duty. "Please show Captain Vanik to the launch bay."

"Aye, sir." Burrows gestured in the direction of the door. "This way, Captain."

The Vulcan turned around and headed towards the door. Before leaving, however, he looked back for a moment and gave T'Pol a cold glare.

"Shan sha'tuhllar ak ko-mesh," he said; and then he was gone.

Charlie stared after him with a frown. "What'd he say?"

Instead of answering, T'Pol turned and left the room too.

"Ask Ensign Sato," Phlox suggested, on his way out. If the survey team was in trouble, he might be needed in Sickbay.


"What happened?" Jack asked, stepping onto the Bridge.

"We hit a layer of magnesite and cracked a drill bit, but we've replaced it," Reed's voice answered through the comm.

"Good." Jack looked at the image of the comet rotating on the main viewer. "What's the problem then?"

"The comet's rotational axis shifted when they set off the charges," reported Lieutenant Foster, Reed's second-in-command. "In about two hours the shuttlepod will be facing the star."

"Did you hear that, Lieutenant?" Jack asked. "You may want to pick up the pace a little bit. The temperature's going to shoot up by a couple of hundred degrees. I want you out of there before then."

"We'll be done with time to spare, sir," Reed's voice answered.

Jack rolled his eyes. Self-confidence was good but caution was better. Especially in a situation like this.

"Be sure you are," he said. "Archer out."


Unfortunately his doubts soon proved well-founded. The survey team was finished and packing up to leave when Travis slipped and fell back into the crater they had blown, wrenching his knee in the process. It took Reed considerable effort to help him out of the trap and back to the shuttlepod, and when the armoury officer returned for their gear and the core sample they had taken – they didn't want to go back to the ship empty-handed – a white dawn was already looming below the horizon.

He had just returned to the pod when there was a cracking sound and a network of cracks appeared in the ice in front of him. By the time he stored the sample in one of the safety boxes, the cracks were starting to become crevasses.

"I hope I never see snow again," Mayweather muttered as Reed helped him into the pilot's seat. "Igniting thrusters for lift-off… now."

As soon as he started the thrusters, alarms began bleeping frantically, there was another cracking noise and the pod fell through the weakened surface ice without further warning. When they were finally caught in the deeper layers, they were badly shaken up, though aware things could have been much worse.

"You all right?" Reed asked, worried about his already injured shipmate.

"No," Mayweather replied, holding his injured knee that he had bumped against the control board. "We should have never ignited the thrusters."

"Well, it's not like we had a choice," Reed commented reasonably; then he saw they had an incoming transmission and answered it. "Reed here."

"You two okay?" Archer's voice asked.

"More or less." The Englishman gave their young pilot a worried look. "How far did we drop?"

"About eighteen metres," the captain replied. "Don't worry; we'll get you out of there in a few minutes."

"We're not going anywhere," Reed said dryly.


"And how, exactly, are you planning to get them out of there, Captain?" Lieutenant Foster asked doubtfully.

"With the grappler; or do you have a better suggestion?"

Foster shook his head. "Too bad our chief pilot's the one stuck inside the comet," he said. "This will require some tricky flying, sir."

"Well, aren't we lucky to have a captain who's just as capable of flying the ship?" Jack returned sarcastically; then he looked at his friend. "Trip, I want you to direct me. You know these systems better than anyone else. Lieutenant, you'll do the manual part. Bring the grappler online."

Foster nodded and Charlie humped, with his cane at his side, to watch the readings. "It won't be easy, Jack," he warned the captain. "The mouth of that chasm's a little narrow."

"Don't worry, I'll get you in close enough." Jack felt the great ship come alive under his fingers as he worked the controls to fly low over the comet. It was a heady feeling, and for a moment he envied Mayweather who could do this all the time. "Do you see them?"

"Bring us in another fifty metres." Charlie kept guiding him with tense attention. "Two metres starboard. A little more."

Jack followed Charlie's instructions precisely. Precision flying was one of his strengths, even though he did feel a bit… rusty. He synchronised to the rotation and brought them in even closer. In the end, though, all his efforts were in vain. One of the grapplers did hit the pod, but the other missed. And when they tried to pull out the little vessel with just one grappler, they lost it. The eisilium deposits were disrupting the maglock. The grappler gave way and the pod tumbled back down again and landed with a thud.

"They've fallen another nine metres," T'Pol reported.

Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "Let's try it again."

"Captain, they're moving out of the sunlight," the Vulcan warned. "The surface ice is recrystallising."

"In less than an hour that chasm will be sealed up again," Charlie added unhappily.

And when that happened, they wouldn't have a rat's chance to get the two men out of it in time. Jack knew that just as well.

"Then we'd better hurry."

"There is another option, Captain," T'Pol injected. "The Ti'Mur has a tractor beam that won't be affected by the eisilium."

Jack stared at her in shocked disbelief. "You're seriously suggesting that I ask that arrogant son-of-a-bitch for help?"

"You don't have to, sir," Hoshi interfered softly. "They've just hailed us, less than a minute ago. Captain Vanik offered to assist us. We can simply accept."

"We can do this on our own," Jack replied stubbornly.

"Sure we can, but will we be done in time?" Charlie asked. "I don't like him any more than you do, Captain, but a tractor beam sounds like a pretty good idea right now."

"Vanik expects you to refuse his offer," T'Pol added quietly. "He sees humans as arrogant, prideful. Are you going to prove him right? You can save your crewmen, or you can let your pride stand in the way. You are human. You are free to choose."

There was a strange emphasis in her voice when she said that, making Jack wonder what she truly meant by it. But she was also right, and he knew it.

"Very well," he said, defeated. "Hoshi, hail the Ti'Mur and tell Captain Vanik we'd be grateful for his assistance."


Two hours later Reed and Mayweather were back on board, a bit battered but in one piece and not frozen solid yet. Not entirely. They brought with them the core piece (which the science department snatched at once) and a great deal of data they had collected.

While Mayweather's knee injury was being treated in Sickbay and Reed was taking a hot shower – a very long one – Jack contacted the Ti'Mur again, to offer sharing said data. His offer, just like Charlie's request to take a look at the tractor beam's specifications, was refused. Not that he'd expected any different.

"We'll be leaving within the hour," Vanik said at the end of their conversation. "Is there anything else we can help you with?"

"You've done more than enough." Like Charlie, John would have loved to learn more about that tractor beam, but since that was out of question… "See you around."

With that, the transmission ended, and Jack turned to T'Pol. "This won't be the last time we see the Ti'Mur, will it?"

"Unlikely," she agreed; then, after a short pause, she added, "Captain, with your permission, I'd like to transmit a message to the Ti'Mur, to send to Vulcan."

Jack nodded. "Go right ahead. Hoshi can help you with the encrypting, so that you'll get done in time. She managed to crack that code pretty quickly… for a mere human."

"Thank you, Captain, but I do not believe it would be necessary to encrypt the message. It is a simple personal matter, after all."

"Yeah, but we don't want High Command to realise that you've spilled the beans to us," Jack pointed out. "Let them believe that you're still their brave little… observer," he corrected himself just in time before he'd slip up and say spy, "just to be on the safe side."

"Spilled… 'the beans'?" she repeated in mild confusion. "Captain, I do not remember any accident involving Terran vegetables during my stay aboard this ship."

Jack grinned. "It's just an expression. Ask Hoshi, perhaps she can tell you where it comes from." He rose. "You've got the Bridge. I'll be in Sickbay to see how Travis is doing."

He left. T'Pol stepped to Hoshi's station and gave her a data chip. "Perhaps the captain is right. I would appreciate your help with the encrypting of this message, Ensign."

Hoshi did not correct the formal addressing… this time. They were both on duty, after all. "Have you come to a decision?" she asked instead.

"I requested a postponement," the Vulcan replied.

"So the ball is in their court now?"

"The ball…" T'Pol frowned slightly; it was an unusual sight on the face of a Vulcan. "Ensign, I believe I shall require your help with colourful human expressions. The more I am exposed to them, the less sense they make to me."

Hoshi laughed. "They can be confusing, even for humans coming from a different tradition. Why don't you make a list as you encounter them, and I'll explain them one by one – if I can."

"I will appreciate that," T'Pol answered formally. "Now to my message… do you think we can get it sent within the hour?"

"Sure. It's all part of the service," Hoshi beamed at her and shoved the data chip into the corresponding slot of her console.

~TBC~


According to the /Brunette_Jolene website, Shan sha'tuhllar ak ko-meshroughly translates to "Transfer yourself or you'll soon be a shamed-woman." Which supposedly means he was telling her to get the hell out of dodge for her own good, lest she become a pariah. (direct quote)

The ten'chara was in the original screenplay but never made it into the actual episode.