okeeeedoke so there are some things i gotta explain before y'all read this

just know that i personally am not proud of this little section and there are some inconsistencies with Star Trek lore having to do with pon farr but it's essential for later parts of the story so just

deal with it

sorry

ehe

also there are other inconsistencies and i am sorry but i don't know everything and sometimes my understanding of stuff is a lil different so i am sorry and i know they're there i just i dunno just yeah i

dunno

also there was something else i needed to say but i forgot what it was...

i dunno

here lemme say this real quick though; Sulu, Uhura, Spock (opt), and Bones (opt) are written as the characters from the original series but everybody else is supposed to be written as the reboot and as you can see, Spock and Bones are slightly interchangable although there are some spots where you'll see i lean more toward one or the other

so

yeah

thank

*bows*

I saluted quickly, not even waiting for his return salute and rushed from the office, flinging the door open roughly and letting it close as it pleased. I flew down the hallway and down the stairs at the end of the hallway. I tried to slow my pace to look a little more natural as I went across campus to the infirmary where I had just been not three hours ago. I wondered briefly what could be wrong with Mr. Spock that Harrison had already known about.

I didn't really care though. I had more concerning things on my mind; more concerning emotions than I had ever experienced. I wondered if Harrison was somehow part Deltan or something of the like because his emotions were out of control, especially when it came to desire and passion. I tried to push the thoughts from my mind but it was almost impossible. I was still raw with emotion that didn't seem to want to go away any time soon. I needed to get myself together or somebody was going to think I had turned into a human.

I pushed everything I felt to the back of my mind so that I could focus on creating a false countenance of calm. It required enough effort that I didn't realize when a small ensign tapped my shoulder. I continued walking.

"Excuse me?"

Poor boy has no idea what he's doing, I thought.

"Excuse me, Peleia?"

Odd, somebody else has my name. I knew I wasn't the only other Vulcan in all of Starfleet.

A hand grabbed my shoulder lightly and I turned around.

"I'm sorry ma'am, are you Peleia?"

My brain took a moment to connect the voice to what I was seeing and I realized that this ensign had been looking for me.

"Yes, I apologize," I said, looking at him.

"Eet ees no problem. May I esk you a question queeckly?" he asked. "Oh, Ensign

Pavel Chekov," he added and stuck out a hand. I shook the curly-haired boy's hand and nodded for him to continue.

"Eet ees Mr. Spock. I'm afraid there ees somethink wrong with heem that only you ken feex," he said, his heavy Russian accent almost impossible for my already confused mind to decipher.

"Alright, how can I help?" I asked. "Is he in the infirmary?"

"Yees ma'am; I weell take you to heem," he said and led me in the direction I had already been headed.

"What are his symptoms?" I asked. "It would be helpful if I knew what I was dealing with, don't you agree, Ensign?" I asked.

"Yees, of course. He said eet ees pon farr," Chekov explained but it was obvious he did not realize what pon farr was.

"Alright," I said. This would at least take my mind from recent events that I would rather not dwell on for fear of becoming overcome with emotions that I did not wish to have.

Pon farr wasn't anything I had been forced to deal with up to then. To describe it in Layman's terms, it was a very dangerous fever. All Vulcans were forced through it every seven years of their adult lives; they were forced to mate or die, but there were certain Vulcan rituals that could be performed to ease the suffering and prevent loss of life. Although I had never performed them myself, I knew the concept and theory of them and was relatively confident in my ability to aid Mr. Spock at this time.

It was curious to me though that there seemed to be nobody able to do it besides myself. I was not entirely familiar with pon farr as I had yet to experience it myself. I had believed that it was slightly inappropriate for a Vulcan to participate in another's pon farr, but as I have expressed, I did not know of the complete workings of this so called blood fever. I had been acquainted with Spock before he left to join Starfleet, however, and I assumed our connection in that way would have prompted him to mention my name.

"What ees pon farr?" Chekov asked after a moment. "Why ees Lieutenant Spock so... emotional?" he asked.

"Pon farr is a chemical imbalance that must be endured every seven years of an adult Vulcan's life. They must mate or die," I said and Chekov looked at me with horror, "or there are certain rituals that can be performed to avert death," I said.

We stepped into the elevator and Chekov commanded it to take us to the fifth level. The elevator lifted us in a timely fashion and we stepped out. There was a large commotion down one of the hallways and Chekov looked nervously at it.

"That ees heem," he said. "He ees ekting so strange... he ees tearink the rooms apart," he said. I hid a shudder. I had known enough of my kind to have been killed by pon farr to take this behavior seriously.

Chekov led me down the hall until we stopped in front of a doctor scribbling on an old-fashioned clipboard.

"Thees ees Peleia," Chekov said and the doctor looked up from his clipboard.

"Peleia," he said and motioned Chekov off, "Doctor Leonard McCoy," he introduced himself and shook my hand. I was momentarily confused as to why all these people felt it necessary to shake my hand instead of salute, but quickly realized that these people were not used to academy life. They had been among the stars for years probably. "Now, are you sure you want to do this?" he asked and his tone concerned me.

"What do you require of me?" I asked.

"He's been asking for you - by name - and I think he... well..."

There was an audible groan from the room where doctors and guards surrounded. I wished this doctor would finish speaking so that I could tend to Spock.

"I know the mechanics of pon farr; I know how to cure him," I said and began to step around him but he grabbed my arm.

"I know you know how to cure him, but-"

There was another cry, louder this time.

"I do not understand why you do not simply allow me in the room," I said becoming more anxious.

"Listen lady, I'm a doctor; this is what I do - and believe me, I would cure him if he would let me, but the thing is, he's chosen you," he said impatiently.

"It is natural to wish the company of an acquaintance in situations as these-"

"No, he's chosen you as his mate, don't you get it?" he spat.

I froze where I was. I didn't want this anymore. The doctor was right to ask me if I really wanted to do this because I didn't. I really, really didn't. Spock had been my friend growing up but never more than that. Our parents had spent ample time together as my father was the ambassador to Romulus and had taken the same path as Spock's father; marriage to a woman of his assigned planet. But Spock and I hardly even spoke anymore, let alone...

I didn't even want to think the words. "Are you sure?" I asked.

"I know what I'm doing; I'm positive," the doctor said. "But if you don't do something about it, he's gonna die in there and I know plenty of people who would never forgive you, me being one of them."

I swallowed. I had two choices to choose from here because letting Spock die was not an option. I could either submit and be his mate - I shuddered at thinking of my old friend becoming my husband - or declare kal-if-fee. I had no idea who I would choose as my champion, but the latter seemed most logical in this instance.

Or perhaps the former was. There was no reason for me to think I would ever have another mate. I could think of no other Vulcan that would ever choose me. Not only that, but neither Spock nor I would ever have to worry about pon farr again. Normal life would be infinitely easier for the both of us.

But for some reason deep in my gut, I knew this was something I would not let happen. This was something I did not want.

My parents would be furious if they ever found out. A chance to marry a Vulcan of such high regard and merit would not have been passed up by any other, but I'm afraid I was letting emotion govern choice. I did not want to marry Spock, so I would choose a champion and they would fight for my hand.

Either way, I was going to need to choose a mate much sooner than I had anticipated.

"Look lady, I don't know what you're thinking about in that weird Vulcan mind of yours but Spock doesn't have much time. He's half human remember? He's not gonna last," McCoy said.

"I am ready," I said.

"What, so you're just gonna go in there guns blazing? This isn't a candy shop; it's an armory," he said.

"Doctor, I have a plan. Please let me pass," I said.

McCoy looked at me skeptically and then let go of my arm. I skirted past him and to the door, opening it more quickly than probably was advisable.

"Stay out!" a tray of medical supplies came flying at me and I ducked, putting my hands over my head and face. It soared over my head and out the door, crashing against the wall in the hallway.

"Spock!" I said, "Spock it's me!"

I looked up at the crazed Vulcan and he rushed over to me, holding me by my arms to return me to my standing position. He pulled me into the room and slammed the door, yanking me around roughly.

"Peleia," he said, letting off a head full of steam and sounding much more relieved. "Peleia, thank you for coming," he said, "I was not sure how much longer I would last," he said. I hated to crush his delusional hopes and tell him I was declaring kal-if-fee, but it needed to be done; he would thank me in the end… or perhaps he would only hate me.

Regrettably, my thoughts were not going nearly as fast as Spock was. Before I could even think twice, Spock had his arms wrapped around me and had pulled me up into his grasp. He leaned down and pressed his lips to mine in a quick escalation of events. He let out a moan of satiation and I squirmed in my skin. This was not at all how I had pictured this day going.

I pushed my hands at his chest, attempting to detach myself from him but he pulled me closer, trapping my hands between us. I attempted to move my feet but Spock misinterpreted that as well. He pushed me up against the wall and I began to panic more. What on earth had I gotten myself into? This was not part of my plan…

But perhaps it was better than what I had come up with.

I slid my hand as best I could up to Spock's shoulder and, feeling sorry for Spock already, pinched as hard as I could, sending a wave of paralysis through his body. He fell to the floor in front of me unmoving.

I took a deep breath, realizing I had just performed the Vulcan nerve pinch on a higher officer than myself. I sincerely hoped Spock would forgive me when he woke.

The room seemed much quieter without all the commotion Spock had been causing and I took a few moments to catch my breath. Everything had caught me by surprise and I had been unable to act logically for several moments. I wasn't sure how long Spock would stay out as I had never performed the pinch on another Vulcan but judged it would be roughly long enough for the doctor to heal him. It was now far from my comfort zone to stay in the room with Spock for fear of him waking and considering me a traitor.

"Doctor!" I yelled and the door flew open immediately. Doctor McCoy stepped in and spotted us immediately.

"Good goodness woman! This was your plan?" he asked and rushed over to Spock.

"Not exactly."

"What did you do to him?"

"It was only a nerve pinch. I wager he should be unconscious just long enough for you to execute the ceremony," I said and stepped carefully around the two of them.

"What happened? What on earth was your plan?"

"To pronounce kal-if-fee," I said. "Perhaps if you had notified me a little earlier, Spock's actions would not have been so irrational that I was forced to incapacitate him. I did not have time to speak a single word to him, let alone select a champion and have them battle," I said haughtily.

"Ya know, it would have been a lot easier if you had just accepted. Then I wouldn't have to worry about this in another seven years," he muttered.

I pushed my emotions back so that I would be able to hold more reasonable conversations with this man who was so easily enraged. I took a cleansing breath and began to step out of the room.

"I am sorry for this inconvenience, Doctor McCoy. Please inform me if you have any further need for me," I said and turned away.

"Hey wait, kid. You better stick around; he'll probably want to see you when he wakes up," McCoy said and I stopped in the doorway. Ensign Chekov was just down the hallway, greeting other officers and sending them running down the hallway. I judged this would not be an experience I would enjoy. "Help me get him onto this table," the doctor said and I turned my attention away from the crew members rushing to the room.

"Yes, sir," I said and helped the doctor transfer Spock to the table across the room. "If that is all you need, I will wait outside and grant you the necessary privacy until Lieutenant Spock comes to," I said. I saluted the doctor and he waved me away. I arrived at the door just as the crew members did and exited, closing the door before they could get into the room. I did not mean to be rude, but it was customary to heal pon farr in private.

"Hey, wait a second. Let us in," the captain said but I did not move from my spot in front of the door. Instead, I saluted the captain and he was forced to return it. "At ease, cadet," he said, realizing that I wasn't going to let him in. "Why won't you let us in?"

"Lieutenant Spock is currently experiencing pon farr. The cure, which Doctor McCoy is completing presently, is to be done in private in accordance with Vulcan tradition. Mr. Spock will be available for conversing in approximately seven minutes, but until then, I advise you to remain here," I said, gaining back my usual Vulcan syntax.

The exceptionally diverse crew looked at the captain who was still looking at me.

"Alright," he said after a moment. "What exactly is pon farr?" he asked.

"Pon farr is a hormonal disparity," I said, varying my vocabulary from when I had last explained it. "All Vulcans must experience it every seven years of their mature lives. It is a time period of roughly eight days in which said Vulcan must mate or die," there was another pass of disgusted looks at me as with Chekov before, "or somebody must perform the custom, which Doctor McCoy is at present, to avoid fatality. Pon farr is also known as 'blood fever' because of the inflated emotional output that can sometimes cause the Vulcan to kill or take advantage of any females in the area."

The crew looked at me curiously and, in some cases, as if I had very little right to be there. It was a point about humans that I often marveled at; their ability to immediately assume the higher position over other species.

"Who are you?" one asked in a thick Scottish accent.

"Cadet fourth degree Peleia," I answered.

"An' what righ' do you 'ave to tell us what to do?" he asked.

"Scotty," the woman reprimanded.

"Excuse me for not adequately explicating the circumstances," I said. "Mr. Spock and I grew up together on Vulcan. I was summoned here because he had proclaimed me as his mate," several eyebrows went up, "but before I could state my intentions of kal-if-fee, he advanced and I was forced to enact defensive measures and thus debilitated Mr. Spock in order to protect myself. He should be awake in five minutes at which time you will be allowed inside this room," I finished.

All eyes were on me, looking with either horror or fascination, or sometimes both. I had not meant to attract so much attention, but the story at hand was an irregular one and humans thrive on irregularity.

"Alright," the captain said, "everybody calm down. We'll have Spock back in no time."

"'Ey wait, how do we know she's trustworthy?" the one called Scotty asked.

I looked at the man at the same time as the captain and answered, "Vulcans do not lie," concurrently with him. The captain looked back at me and grinned. He turned fully towards me again and held out his hand for me to shake.

"Jim Kirk," he said and I shook his hand. He was thinking at that moment how hard it would be to move me from cadet to officer on his ship. I smiled at his stupidity and he mistook it for infatuation, winking slyly.

"Do not get too excited, Captain," I said and the captain immediately thought of how foolish he was to think I would be bumped up quickly, "you already have one Vulcan on your ship; I doubt you need another," I said.

The captain let go of my hand. "The more the merrier," he said. I'm sure if I had contained an ounce of human emotion, I would be flush green in the face, but I did not feel emotions in that way and was thus unamused.

The captain turned around and sat down with his crew, all sitting along the opposite wall. I puzzled at why humans always felt the need to rest, even if it was only going to be for a moment or two. I was perfectly content standing where I was as the wait would not last much longer.

"So, er... you and Spock..." Scotty started, "what kind of age difference is that? Is it large?"

"Scotty," the woman said again and hit his arm.

"Spock is two years older than me. I do not understand why this question is relevant," I said.

"Well, if 'e expects you to... well, ya know... then is it weird for you?"

"Scotty, that is enough," she said and it was taken to be the end of the conversation.

"If you're only two years younger than him, then why are you only a degree four?" the captain asked.

"Because of my disposition I did not join Starfleet until this year," I said.

"And what disposition is that?" he prodded.

I looked sternly at him. "I have trouble harnessing my emotions unlike many other Vulcans. My mother is Romulan; a race known for their emotional output. I received several extra years of schooling in order to properly contain these emotions and proceed with a logical lifestyle. Captain, if you wish to make conversation, I do wish that it was not centered on me," I finished.

"Then what do you suggest we talk about?" asked the captain.

"I prefer silence over meaningless banter," I said. "If you have nothing to talk about, then there is no reason to speak."

Kirk's thoughts could not have been plainer, even if I had been touching him: I should have known it would be no fun talking to a Vulcan.

The hallway sat in silence for the next three minutes; a silence that I appreciated but that I could feel was uncomfortable for all others involved.

The door opened behind me and everybody jumped. The captain was first, scooting past me to get into the room. I slid out of the way and the entire crew entered the room as Doctor McCoy yelled, "One at a time! One at a time!" it was obviously no use though. I turned to him as he stood helplessly by the door.