As we know, the Vulcan wedding ceremony, the koon-ut-kal-if-fee, has not evolved since barbaric times. We also know that many weddings occur while one of the partners is in pon farr, making the ceremony necessarily expedited, as the partner in question has only one urgent goal.

We have only two examples of Vulcan weddings. The one between Spock and T'Pring and the one between T'Pol and Koss (ENT Home). Both are somewhat different, but T'Pol's wedding seems a bit more "Earth-like" than Spock's, if only because the parents of the bride and groom are invited and it takes place in a garden rather than in a strange stone arena on top of a rocky peak.

Thus, the Enterprise version of the Vulcan wedding will receive little of my attention, except perhaps for the divorce modalities, which will not be directly discussed in this chapter but shed light on an interesting aspect of Vulcan culture.

After the Kal-if-fee, Spock asks T'Pring for an explanation, and she responds: "By the law of our people, I could only divorce you by the kal-if-fee." According to TOS, the only time a woman can break the engagement arranged by her parents is just before she is married. Moreover, another potential husband must take the place of the first and fight to win her or the woman can fight herself ... and probably lost.

In Enterprise, T'Pol is not too enthusiastic about marrying her betrothed, Koss. He refuses to force her, even though he has the right. He manages to convince her to marry him but seeing that she does not love him, he tells her that he releases her from the marriage, and they are no longer married.

In other words, a male can repudiate his wife at any time with just one word, but a female is stuck with her husband forever and has no means of divorce (except at the time of marriage and provided she has a champion ready to die for her; or if she's fight and win). And it makes sense, as the woman is the property of the husband. As the owner, a male can dispose of his possession if he no longer wants it, while of course a possession has no rights.

So, we can greatly pity the poor Vulcan women who, legally, seem not much better off than Earth women from the most misogynistic cultures. But fortunately for them, Vulcan males seem to be much more sensible and respectful than our traditional patriarchal husbands. It's as if despite the laws remaining barbaric, the males themselves have evolved and do not necessarily take advantage of the permission to behave like baboons to do so. In fact, Star Trek presents Vulcans who are far freer than Earth women who live under similar laws. And with that in mind, we certainly hope that our most backward males eventually take the same path.

Nevertheless, the rules governing divorce undeniably indicate that males are dominant in this culture, which aligns with the canonical Vulcan machismo. And this fanfic will be careful to reflect this in its portrayal.

Seated on the litter surrounded by guards, Jo saw in the distance a stone circle perched on the sharpest peak of the mountain toward which her escort was advancing. The guards began to climb the winding path, and she realized they were nearing their destination. She felt relief at the thought of escaping the scorching sun clashed with fear of the unknown awaiting her at the mountaintop.

First of all, she hadn't managed to sleep a single minute. She had spent the night in Amanda's small room, replaying the events that had brought her here, and one conclusion was clear: she should have let the commander die. To console herself, she imagined his death in every possible way. Her favorite scenario by far was the one where his cock exploded like a neutron bomb, and he ended up in gooey pieces stuck to the ceiling and sliding down the walls.

Amanda had come to wake her at dawn and, pretending to be cheerful, had accompanied her for the preparations. She had refused to wear a wedding dress, but her mother-in-law insisted it was unthinkable to marry in a mechanic's outfit given the family's rank. On Vulcan, high-born girls paraded with elaborate hairstyles adorned with ridiculous extensions that stayed on God knows how. An stoic hairdresser had come to style her hair, and it had taken at least two hours during which she had nearly gone insane sitting there while her hair was pulled in every direction. Then Amanda had given her her wedding dress, a glittery, too-short dress with too-small shoes.

Looking at herself in the mirror, she had to come to a radical conclusion: she had never looked so damn foolish. She looked like a ugly redneck dressed up for a trashy Miss Universe contest. Amanda had assured her she looked adorable, but that was just for show. She had eyes to see. She looked completely ridiculous dressed as a Vulcan aristocrat. She also had to slather on makeup. Since she never wore any, her face felt completely stiff, and her eyes felt dry and crispy, an absolutely horrible sensation..

Then Amanda had wanted to explain what was going to happen, but really, she didn't want to hear it.

"Listen, you're going to be there anyway, right?"

The Terran had given her a sympathetic smile.

"Unfortunately, not. The parents of the bride and groom cannot attend the ceremony."

"What?!" she had asked in panic.

"The groom might be killed if the bride chooses the kal-if-fee, the death match. It's the kind of spectacle best avoided by the parents."

Jo had frozen. No way… Could she actually have had him gutted on the spot?! Just as a ray of hope had begun to rise, it had immediately faded. It was incredibly unfortunate, but she could never have brought herself to do that to her sweet new mother in law.

"Dont be afraid. Everything will be fine," Amanda had said with her most reassuring smile.

But that hadn't reassured her at all. That was when the delegation had arrived. Amanda had accompanied her and helped her get onto a litter carried by four soldiers.

"Don't worry, the ceremony is quick. It's just that at the end..."

"I don't want to know anything."

"But… "

"Can't you come? Are you sure?" she cut in fearfully.

"It's impossible, I'm sorry," Amanda had said, holding her hand. "But Spock is waiting for you there."

Jo had pressed her lips together, thinking that this didn't make her eager to make the trip.

"Take this, it will bring you luck."

She had given her a pretty bracelet adorned with blue stones and had fastened it to her wrist. Jo swallowed hard, feeling as if she were being put in handcuffs, yet she smiled at Amanda, the one person she wished could be by her side. The Terran had kissed her, and the guard leading the way started ringing silly bells, and she had been taken to the scene of the drama.

It had taken about an hour to get there in the crazy Vulcan heat. Along the way, people had come out of their houses, drawn by the bells, to watch her pass, and they stayed there with their stupid frozen faces, staring at her. The worst part had been when they had crossed a large marketplace crowded with people who had all stopped to gawk at her. They weren't throwing rice, they weren't shouting "long live the bride," they weren't shouting wishes, and they weren't even shouting lewd things. They just stood there, motionless and silent, watching her pass like in a horror movie. It felt like a real nightmare and she had almost shit her pants. She had had to close her eyes to avoid crying like a kid, begging to be taken back to her ship.

As her bearers climbed the path leading to the stone circle, Jo noticed that not a single bead of sweat was visible on their foreheads. She couldn't understand how it was possible, given that she felt her makeup running into her eyes like a fountain. From being crispy, her makeup had turned into a drippy mess. She must have looked like a freaking raccoon or a melting clown. She would have paid a fortune to have Amanda there to at least fix her up a bit, but she had to settle for hoping the damage wouldn't be too severe. Unfortunately, her wishes were in vain because no makeup had ever looked so horrifically ruined on the surface of Vulcan in the history of the planet.

Before reaching the summit, there was a small path where the bearers turned. They followed the cliff and quickly emerged onto a sort of small terrace. At the end was a platform that jutted slightly into the rock. The cliff had been hollowed out, and in the recess, friezes and figures had been carved—fighters armed with crescent blades at the ends of their staffs. On the platform stood a petite woman with her hair up and braided. Majestic and stern, she held a long staff and waited for Jo's arrival surrounded by three guards on each side.

As they approached, Jo noticed that one of the guards had a mask on his nose and held a long, shiny blade. Holy shit, that guy had a terrifying face. She immediately felt the urge to run away, but of course, it wasn't the best idea. Besides, she was drenched in heat and wouldn't get very far. The bearers advanced toward the small, severe-looking woman before whom they set down the chair. The woman looked at her coldly in silence, and Jo forced a smile that wasn't reciprocated.

"Joh'ânn Stone," she said with a strange accent.

"Yeah, that's me," Jo confirmed.

The older Vulcan lifted her head haughtily.

"Stand up."

Jo got up but nearly fell over, completely woozy. For God's sake, she was going to get heatstroke if this kept up. With difficulty, she extracted herself from the chair, feeling as if she were soaked as if someone had doused her with a hose.

"Kneel," T'Pau said, indicating the small step in front of her.

Fuck, this woman didn't think much of herself. Jo sniffed, unenthusiastic, and reluctantly knelt before the priestess.

The priestess extended her hand toward Jo's face, and she pulled back instinctively, her face reflecting her unease..

"Uh… what exactly do you want to do?"

T'Pau gave her a look of disbelief.

"I need to read your mind," she said coldly.

"Is that mandatory or…?" Jo asked, feeling quite uncomfortable at the idea of this not-so-friendly woman probing her brain.

"It is the tradition, and the marriage will not happen if the tradition is not respected."

Jo sighed, annoyed, and nodded. T'Pau advanced her hand and seemed to hesitate as well, given how the young woman was dripping. Still, she placed her hand on Jo's cheek for a second and immediately took on a severe expression. She withdrew her hand and stared at the bride.

"You do not know your duties as a wife," she said reproachfully.

Jo gave her a helpless look.

"Well, no, but I haven't had much time. This was decided last night," she explained.

"You will be a bad wife," the priestess asserted, frowning.

Jo shrugged as if it wasn't the news of the century.

"With all due respect, I'd say the commander should at least suspect that."

T'Pau took a step back and looked down on her.

"This marriage cannot be celebrated. You are not ready."

If the alternative hadn't been to be thrown in some hole for eternity, Jo would have jumped for joy, but given the situation, she realized she was in deep shit.

"Look, it's clear that I'm not exactly his dream wife, but he wants to marry me because of his kirkan."

T'Pau recoiled at this mention, and Jo couldn't help but notice that even the impassive soldiers seemed quite uncomfortable. The priestess stared at her for a long time, then extended her hand again. She placed her fingers on Jo's cheek and applied her razor-sharp mind to understand what was going on. She investigated everything related to this matter and scrutinized every detail as Jo shivered under the heavy gaze. Finally, she released her from her grip and looked at her strangely.

"This situation is unusual," she said as the young Terran struggled not to cry, feeling so naked and vulnerable in front of this woman as hard as steel. "I disapprove of this union, but I will allow it due to the exceptional circumstances. Stand up."

Jo got up and felt dizzy again. Damn, she was frying. T'Pau moved in front of the chair and looked at it with surprise. She spoke a few words in Vulcan, and a soldier quickly wiped the seat with a cloth. The priestess sat down, and Jo realized she would have to finish the journey on foot. She closed her eyes, discouraged, and told herself for the tenth time that day that she would never get through this fucking wedding.

A soldier gestured to her to take her place in the line, and they resumed their climb for the last hundred meters while Jo staggered in her crappy high heels. They finally arrived at the designated spot, and the bride froze, intimidated by the large opening of carved stones where, as Amanda had explained, all the Vulcan wives of the commander's family had passed down through the ages. Except that for her, she would have paid dearly never to see that door.

Jo passed through the gateway and moved forward with her escort of soldiers into the scorching stone circle. She squinted to locate her fiancé in the blinding light and finally spotted him alone in a corner with his blue vest. She felt an incredible pang of jealousy realizing that he got to keep his uniform. He glanced at her and quickly lowered his eyes, enough for her to deduce that he was not at all impressed by the appearance of his betrothed.

The soldiers placed the priestess on a small platform, and the broom approached to kneel before her. She scanned his thoughts briefly and nodded as the Vulcan stood up.

"Kah-if-farr!" T'Pau said, raising her arm.

The bells started ringing again as Spock walked to the central platform and climbed the few steps. He stared at Jo, but since she didn't seem to understand, he gestured for her to join him. She shook herself and slowly walked toward him, feeling as if she were in a bad dream. She climbed the steps, each one feeling like it sealed the horror of her fate. Good grief... what had she done to deserve this? She fought hard to keep her tears at bay as she finally stood before him. the platform, a stone circle held a blazing fire, making the air even hotter. Jo shook her head, feeling like she was in a Christian hell. All that was missing was a devil with a pitchfork, and the scene would be complete.

They stood facing each other near a large plate made of strange metal while the Vulcan looked at her with a peculiar expression.

"I bet I look like a fucking clown," she murmured.

"Stop swearing. Your makeup has run, but it hides your emotionality. That's a good thing."

"Oh yeah? And would you like me to tell you what I've just been through, in terms of damn good things?" she said, itching to punch him.

"No. And don't swear."

As if hoping to get married before she caused any scandal, he immediately picked up a green hammer and struck a mighty blow on the gong.

"I take you as my wife," he said as the plate resonated.

He handed her the hammer, which she took reluctantly. She stared at him and felt like she was seeing him for the first time. He looked so serious. She had never seen him so cold and detached. It was scary. Really, it was the worst wedding and the worst husband she could have imagined. He stared at her in turn, and she sensed that the bond between them was oddly stretching. He immediately looked away, but she had time to finally read something there. Disappointment. At last, something promising; for the first time, they seemed to be on the same wavelength.

She weakly struck the plate with the hammer.

"I take you as my husband," she mumbled, assuming that was what she was supposed to say.

The guards began to shake the bells, and Spock turned toward the assembly. She mimicked him, and they stood still like idiots as the incessant ringing overwhelmed her senses, and the dry Vulcan guards watched her melt, clearly intrigued by the phenomenon.

"Commander, I'm not feeling too well. I'm dying of heat," she whispered weakly.

"You're very red."

"Damn, that's very nice of you."

"Stop swearing."

"I'm on the verge of heatstroke, just so you know."

The bells suddenly stopped their noise.

"It is time for the spouses to seal their union," T'Pau said, rising.

Guards appeared out of nowhere, bringing a large carved stone, which they placed over the central hearth to cover it completely. T'Pau moved towards them and handed Spock a carefully folded gray silk blanket. He turned to Jo and indicated the stone.

"Lie down," he said.

"Lie down? For what?"

"We must mate."

"What? In front of everyone?!"

"Yes."

Her eyes widened in shock.

"Are you crazy or something?" she almost yelled.

A murmur of disapproval swept through the shocked soldiers.

"Johann, please," Spock said, frowning. "We have to."

"You know what? I'm fed up with your bullshit," she said, even more shocked than the guards.

"If you refuse, you will insult everyone," he warned her quietly.

"Is there a problem?" T'Pau, who had been standing there, asked.

Spock looked at the officiant.

"On Earth, mating is a very private activity. That's why Johann's reaction is so negative.

T'Pau looked at her sternly.

"We understand. But if she wishes to marry a Vulcan, she must submit to our customs."

"Well, couldn't we make an exception because this is really disgusting. Seriously," said the young woman, dazed by the heat and lack of oxygen.

The way Spock gripped her arm made her realize she better shut up immediately. A heavy silence of disapproval fell over the gathered Vulcans, and T'Pau's face turned to stone.

"I have spoken. The bride must make her choice," she said coldly.

She remained standing on the platform, unable to believe she was going to have sex in front of everyone in six hundred degrees Celsius while dressed like a clown.

"Remember that this is a Vulcan mating," he insisted.

"I'm in a nightmare," she growled through her teeth.

"No. This is real."

Jo shot him a murderous look and then sighed in disgust, knowing she had no way out. She lay down reluctantly as tears came to her eyes. Spock spread the blanket over his shoulders and lay down on top of her, covering them completely with the silk. As if it wasn't hot enough already... but at least these damn Vulcans couldn't see them anymore.

"Try to calm down. You're way too emotional."

"Oh... I'm terribly sorry," she spat as he positioned himself between her legs.

With some difficulty, he joined with her, doing only the bare minimum to establish a connection. She waited for something psychotic to happen, but nothing did.

"What are you waiting for?" she whispered.

He seemed even more embarrassed than she was, and Jo gave a sly smile.

"Don't tell me you're going to stall out in front of everyone."

He gave her a strange look and closed his eyes to concentrate. After a minute, she felt the connection becoming more dynamic as he finally enveloped them, pressing their energy bodies together. She immediately sensed that he was worried about her. Realizing he had at least a bit of pity, she felt somewhat reassured. He placed his hand on her cheek, and just like during the mission, they found themselves in an incredible void where they no longer felt or experienced anything.

When they came back to their senses, they were alone. Spock turned on his side and took a moment to collect himself, then stood up and began folding the blanket, which he handed to her. She sat up, dazed, and looked at him blankly.

"What do you want me to do with this?"

"It's the wedding quilt."

"Where did everyone go? Why didn't they stay to watch us like perverts?"

"The wedding is over, and they left us alone so we could be devoured if that was the fate chosen by the ancient gods."

"What? What the hell are you talking about?" she said, getting up, troubled.

"It's just a tradition. Species capable of attacking Vulcans never come this close to the cities."

She got up but immediately felt disoriented and almost fell. Spock caught her and looked at her gravely.

"It's heatstroke."

"That's a surprise!" she said, as if he were directly responsible.

She pushed him away roughly, and he took out his communicator to request that they be transported back to the Enterprise. They disappeared and rematerialized in the transporter room.

"Damn ... I'm seeing triple."

Despite the visual distortion, she couldn't miss Kyle's stunned look as he manned the console. She had forgotten she looked ridiculous dressed as a Vulcan and suddenly realized that her friends were going to make a huge fuss.

"Fuck it..." she sighed.

It was then that she felt her thighs were soaked. Oh yes, the infamous Vulcan fire hose. She had forgotten about that. She realized not only was she going to make a mess everywhere, but her dress was short enough for everyone to see what was going on. She closed her eyes, thinking it was the last straw.

"Get out of here, Kyle," she said, looking at him as if she were going to kill him.

"Stone? Is that you...?" the controller asked, hardly believing his eyes.

"GET OUT OR I'LL KILL YOU!" she screamed.

Spock gave a nod towards the controller, who left, stunned.

"Johann, you should..."

"AND YOU! Don't you dare call me by my name," she growled furiously.

"We're married," he reminded her.

"I know, I've got your mess dripping on me, you poor jerk!"

"You're unwell," he said, as if that explained her anger.

He tried to pick her up to carry her to the infirmary, but she slapped him.

"Don't touch me!"

He looked at her seriously and moved toward the console.

"An infirmary chair, to the transporter room," he ordered.

Jo did her best to wipe herself with the wedding quilt but collapsed on the floor, completely dizzy.

"I don't want to be seen like this," she said weakly. "Everyone is going to laugh at me."

Spock didn't seem very moved by her aesthetic concerns and approached to help if needed.

"Commander, I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone," she confessed with an oddly glossy look.

"You have heatstroke," he reminded her.

"I swear it doesn't change anything, and I don't want your fucking kid! It's just a big pile of shit!" she screamed.

"You're hurting yourself."

"No, you're the one hurting me. It's just you," she murmured, leaning against the ground. "… Just you."

It was then that the transporter room started spinning in her vision and everything went dark.